Treacherous Toys (10 page)

“I know where you’re going with this,” Chase said when we were alone again. “You think Gaskin killed Chris to get his job.”

“Not really. But that could be part of it.” I leaned across the table closer to him, hoping to prevent anyone overhearing our conversation. “Livy had an affair with Chris. It was years ago.”

“Father Christmas Chris?”

“Yep. Gaskin was directly hired by Livy, not Adventure Land. He’s even staying at the castle. Chris didn’t stand a chance. They were both out to get him.”

Chase drank some beer and shook his head. “Okay, Sherlock. Why would Gaskin need to take Chris’s job, especially this time of year when there are thousands of Santa jobs out there?”

“Elementary, my dear bailiff.” I told him about Chris catching Gaskin stealing money from the Santa Fund. I also explained my theory about Livy possibly wanting to kill Chris. “You know, the whole scorned woman thing. Of course, we’d have to find out if Chris was the one who broke up with Livy. So Livy and Edgar both could have had a motive to kill Chris. I think it’s time to call in Detective Almond. Or should I say
Bailiff
Almond.”

I couldn’t resist telling Chase about Almond being the first bailiff.

“Please tell me there were pictures.” He laughed.

“Nope. I wish. But I’ll enjoy seeing his face when I tell him.”

“You seem to have the Father Christmas case all sewn up,” he said. “It sounds legitimate, although if your theory about Livy is correct, she’d have to spend the rest of her life killing off everyone she’s ever been with. I’ll give Detective Almond a call in the morning.”

“There’s something else.” I told him about Chris and his first wife being the first king and queen. “Did you know that?”

“No. That was before my time. But Roger probably knows all about it.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I don’t know if it has anything to do with Chris’s death, but it’s a good story. I’d like to hear the rest of it.”

“Me, too. Just be careful how hard you push, Jessie. The person who killed Chris may still be here at the Village. Let’s not get him riled up before we find out who he is.”

The rest of the evening was filled with talking to old friends who stopped at our table. I was surprised that so many residents would pay to eat here when they could eat free at Peter’s Pub or The Pleasant Pheasant. Maybe it was just a fad and would wear off quickly.

The Tornado Twins—Diego and Lorenzo—were kicked out of the tavern for bringing squirt guns in. Of course, that was their thing. Ginny Stewart, the owner, even spit on them as her wenches threw them out the door.

“Those two never learn.” Ginny, always in the same green gown, bent close to Chase so he could have a good look at her enormous bosom. “Let me get you some cheesecake, dearie. I know you work hard out there for us. You deserve some cheesecake.”

“Thanks,” Chase said. “But maybe not tonight.”

“I’ll bring the girl some, too, if you like.” Ginny sighed as though it was a difficult offer to make.

“That’s okay,” Chase insisted. “Next time.”

“All right. But if you find yourself with a craving for…cheesecake, you know where to find me.” She kissed his cheek and moved on.

“That woman,” I muttered. “Someone needs to trim her sails.”

From the table behind us came a voice I always hated to hear. “She pushes the whole meaning of
trollop
a bit to the edge, eh, Ducks?”

Wanda Le Fey was sitting close enough to touch me. A long shiver went down my spine when I realized she was there.

“Hello, Jessie, Chase.” Master Archer Simmons nodded. “It’s good to see you both.”

“We need to get out of here,” I whispered to Chase.

“The food isn’t here yet,” he reminded me.

“Wanda is almost sitting on top of me. You know what that means.”

“You’re paranoid, Jessie. You’ll be fine.”

“Then switch sides with me. She can’t hurt me if she can’t touch me.” I couldn’t believe he was accusing me of being paranoid about Wanda. Surely he remembered all the things she’d done to me over the years. It isn’t paranoia when you
know
someone is out to get you.

“Let’s just eat.” The food had arrived, and Chase didn’t want to move. “Eat fast and we’ll leave before she can do anything too terrible.”

I did exactly that. I was finished with my cheese and bread and had drunk the last of my beer long before Chase had finished his chicken. “Are you ready yet?” I asked him, mindful of the side of me near Wanda.

“I was hoping to have another beer. I’m not driving. I think it would be okay.”

“If you hurry.” I held up my hand to attract a serving wench to the table.

“Jessie, you make too much out of Wanda’s sense of humor. It’s a little odd sometimes, but she has a good heart. She’s always there for anyone who gets injured.”

Yeah,
I agreed silently.
There to misdiagnose and mis-treat
.

It took another five minutes for Chase to finish eating and drink most of his second beer. Already the big dinner crowd was dwindling, heading back to their homes around the Village. I kept hoping Wanda would leave, too. Each peal of her wacky laughter made me jump. I knew she was up to no good.

“Okay.” Chase finally gave in. “I’m done. Let’s go home.”

He walked toward the door where Ginny was taking cash or Lady Visa. I started to follow him but couldn’t get out of my chair. I tugged at my long skirt. It didn’t appear to be stuck anywhere, but I couldn’t stand up.

Chase came back after paying the bill. “I thought you were in such a big hurry to leave.”

“I can’t get up,” I whispered to him. “Something’s wrong.”

“Aw, what’s wrong, sweetie?” Wanda asked in a fake solicitous tone. “Cat got your tongue? Or does the chair have your butt?”

At that point, she let out a horrible laugh. Her cackles could be heard across the restaurant. I’d have bet even the pirates in the caves under the tavern could hear her.

And then I knew—I was the victim of one of the oldest pranks in the book. At some point, Wanda had glued my gown to the chair.

I’ve been through many embarrassing moments in the Village. But nothing compared to having to sit there while Chase and Wanda cut the skirt from my gown, exposing
my chemise and loose-fitting bloomers (not so much Renaissance correct but necessary), while a tavern full of people watched.

I protested Wanda’s aid since she was responsible for the prank, but Chase said he needed her help. What was I going to say?

After I was freed, I stormed out of the Lady of the Lake with one thing in mind—revenge. Residents of the Village loved to prank each other. I’d done my share of it, too. It’s possible some of my pranks were worse than what Wanda had done. There
was
that time that I had the portable toilet dumpers collect one of their toilets with a pirate inside. That was a good one.

In all fairness, the pirate had already pranked me. He’d had it coming.

Not so, this case. I studiously avoided Wanda and would never have pranked her, mostly because I was afraid of her. But not anymore.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do to her in return for her prank, which would be all over the Village by morning, but it would be good. It would be something that would live in Village prankdom history for a long time.

“Wait up, Jessie.” Chase ran out of the tavern after me. He was laughing. “Don’t take it so hard. It could’ve been worse.”

“I asked you to switch sides with me. She would never have pranked
you
that way.”

“Probably not, but I’ve had my share of pranks. Everyone has. And you’ve pranked plenty of people, too.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, walking as fast as I could across the King’s Highway in my underwear. “And I’ll make sure to get her back. But do you know what Portia is going to say when she sees this gown tomorrow? She’s not going to care
that I was pranked. They’ll probably take the money for it out of my salary.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll pay for it.”

I’d have found his offer more comforting if he hadn’t been smiling when he said it. “This isn’t funny, Chase.”

“It is, you know. I’m sorry but it’s funny.” He tried to put his arm around me and I shrugged it off.

I noticed the light was still on in Christine’s basement workshop. I needed some space, and I was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind me stopping in to tell her my news—even if my bottom half was clad only in Renaissance underwear.

“I’m going to talk to Christine,” I told him. “I’ll see you later at the Dungeon.”

“You’re going in there like
that
?”

“I don’t think she’ll find it as funny as you do. See you later.”

“Jessie. Come on. It’s just a prank. It’s funny.”

“Later, Chase.” I frowned at him as I opened the basement door. I wasn’t sure if he could see me, but it felt like the right thing to do. I hated to be mad at him for what had happened, but he didn’t have to be so cheerful about it. He could’ve immediately helped me come up with a suitable response.

Christine looked up from her work painting toys as I banged the door closed. “Jessie?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

“It’s late. Were you planning on working? What happened to your gown?”

I sat on one of the small wooden chairs across the worktable from her. She was wearing faded old jeans and a paint-spattered T-shirt that said Santa Rules! Her glasses had some paint flecks on them, and there was a blue streak on her cheek.

I explained what had happened to my gown. She shook her head but didn’t smile. That made me feel better.

“Sometimes those pranks get out of hand. The members of the Santa Fund are always pranking each other, too. One time, Chris’s beard was dyed pink through the whole Christmas season. One of the other Santas had rigged a balloon with pink dye in it and it burst in Chris’s face when he was blowing it up for an event. He was lucky his eyes weren’t affected. He lost three jobs because of that. It took a dozen washes, and then we still had to dye it white again.”

I had to admit, that was a pretty good prank. I didn’t laugh because she obviously took it as seriously as I took my recent run-in with Wanda. I realized I wouldn’t have been as upset if one of the Tornado Twins or Friar Tuck had pranked me. Maybe this was a good time to get over my fear of Wanda once and for all.

“I found some interesting information from the Santa Fund,” she told me. “It seems that I was right—Edgar was hired to be here at the same time as Chris. No one hires two Santas for the same gig. It’s just not done.”

I told her that I’d discovered the same thing in the Village records. “I know you said it had been a while since Chris and Olivia had…been involved, but Edgar was hired by the queen to be here. He’s even living in the castle. There’s something fishy about that.”

Christine stopped painting a cute Ferris wheel. “Are you saying you think Olivia plotted with Edgar to kill my husband?”

“I don’t know yet. We should go and talk to Livy first thing tomorrow morning. What do you know about Chris’s ex-wife, Alice?”

She wiped her hands slowly on a towel. “I don’t know. Not that much. She was long gone by the time I met him,
and we were married for seventeen years. He only spoke of her briefly. Let’s talk to her if you think it will help.”

I knew I was holding back information, but I didn’t know if Chris’s being here twenty years ago meant anything yet.

“Chris was killed, Jessie. I want justice for him. It seems the only way that’s going to happen is if you and I find that justice. I really appreciate your helping me.”

We didn’t say much after that, and I got the feeling that she wanted to be alone to sort through everything. So much had happened so quickly. She was handling all of it much better than I could have.

“I guess I better go home and change clothes,” I said, getting up. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Don’t worry. We’ll find a way to make all of this right.”

She smiled but didn’t speak. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, making the blue paint run down her neck. I didn’t tell her. She could deal with it later.

The Village was dark and quiet when I stepped out of the lighted basement. It would be easy for me to get so caught up in trying to solve the mystery of Chris’s murder that I’d lose sight of the emotional impact my efforts might have on Christine and the children.

He was gone and his family was left to fend for itself, no matter who had done the deed. Finding his killer wouldn’t bring him back. But I hoped that by learning the truth and helping to put the killer away, I could bring some kind of peace to the family. Still, it was going to be a long, hard road for them either way.

Once the Village closed and the visitors went home, the area became like a small neighborhood of people who knew each other very well. True, there were the newbies who were lost for the first six months or so. But many of the
residents were like family. They kept each other’s secrets, fought, and pranked, but in the end, they belonged to the Village and this unique lifestyle.

The large stadium lights situated throughout the Village could essentially turn night into day, but they were only switched on in emergencies. That left the open parts of the Village between the residents’ housing and the shops dark. But as I walked by the Village storefronts, lights still shone from some of the many windows. At Fractured Fairy Tales, assorted characters were rehearsing for the next day, and at the Monastery Bakery, the monks were making bread dough for the morning rush.

I waved to Mrs. Potts at the Honey and Herb Shoppe as I passed her window. She was busy baking her famous ginger cookies.

Some acrobats were practicing in the grassy area behind the Dutchman’s Stage while a group of tiny terriers were learning their tricks for the show. The smell of roasting potatoes and grilling meats from the Three Pigs Barbecue wafted down the cobblestones.

The sights, smells, and sounds of the Village were as familiar to me as my own face. No matter how insecure I felt about the idea of living here full time, it was getting harder to leave and go back to that other life at the university.