Perilous Pranks (Renaissance Faire Mystery) Read online

  She glared at me. “I hate you. I’ve always hated you. I wish you were blue and dead instead of me.” She tried to smooth back her red hair that was streaming over her shoulders. “But too late for that. I’m the one who’s dead. Now find my killer or you’ll be sorry!”

  “Will that make you rest in peace or something? Will you vanish and stop haunting me?”

  “Perhaps. I’m not sure yet. I can tell you one thing. You will never know a moment’s peace until you find out who killed me. I need to know. I need revenge.”

  My legs felt wobbly. I wanted to drop down on the hot cobblestones and not get up again until she was gone. I blinked my eyes several times, but she was still there when I opened them. How was this possible?

  “Okay.” I smiled and curtsied at the two visitors that were dressed like Snow White, and Prince Charming. Their children were dressed like three dwarfs, complete with beards. “I’ll find your killer. I was looking into it anyway. I don’t know about the revenge part. Maybe you could haunt them and that would take care of it.”

  “Jessie?” Chase came up behind me. “Who are you talking to?”

  “Wanda,” I whispered. “She’s come back.”

  He looked at the refection of him and me in the big mirror as he put his arm around my waist. “I don’t see anyone else. Wanda is dead. She’s not coming back.”

  I squinted hard. There was no sign of Wanda anywhere. “I didn’t imagine it. At least I don’t think I imagined it. She came into the apartment after Detective Almond left with our swords. She was furious.”

  Chase didn’t seem to comprehend what I was trying to tell him. “Detective Almond took our swords? I can’t believe he didn’t say anything to me about it. Are we working together or what?”

  “Now he thinks I killed Wanda because I wanted her cottage for us and our babies.”

  Chase looked blank. “Babies? Is there something you need to tell me?”

  “I’m not pregnant with even one baby right now. He was planning our future for us.”

  Was that a sigh of relief I caught from him?

  “You want to have kids at some point, right?” I asked in case there had been a miscommunication.

  He kissed me. “You know I want to have kids with you. Maybe not right now, but sometime. We don’t have to live in Wanda’s cottage.”

  “That’s what I told him.”

  We started walking past the Dungeon. The boys I’d scared were long gone. I hoped Wanda was too. I hoped she was a figment of my guilt. I hadn’t meant for her to die. It wasn’t my fault that someone else had killed her.

  “Maybe not, dearie,” she whispered near my right ear. “But you’re gonna help me find the knave who did it.”

  Chapter Seven

  I jumped away from that side, my back against Chase’s sturdy frame. “Did you hear that? She’s not gone yet.”

  “I didn’t hear anything, Jessie.” He glanced around. “Is she standing next to you now?”

  “No. She whispered in my ear.”

  Lovingly, he said, “This has been a strain. You should rest.”

  I laughed. “Like I can rest with her shoving her big blue face at me all the time.”

  “Maybe we should go have a talk with Madame Lucinda.”

  “Madam Lucinda?” I searched my brain. I thought I knew everyone in the Village. “Who’s that?”

  He tucked my arm through his, and we continued walking. “Madame Elizabeth retired. Madame Lucinda is taking her place.”

  “The fortune teller? How is she going to help?”

  “Everyone says she’s really amazing. If Wanda is haunting you, maybe she can help.”

  I was sure Madame Elizabeth didn’t have any special powers—I didn’t think her replacement did either. I’d spoken with the old Madame a few times. She mumbled a lot—it was difficult to understand her. Maybe that was why very few visitors ever went to her small, purple and gold tent close to the Honey and Herb Shoppe.

  I was always surprised when I left, and came back months later from the university, that the fortune teller was still there. Adventureland could be ruthless when it came to cutting out exhibits that didn’t pay. For some reason, that had never happened to the fortune teller.

  Maybe that was her real magic.

  As we reached Madame Lucinda’s tent with its bright gold dragon flag flying, Chase got a call about a big food fight happening at The King’s Tarts Pie Shop at the other end of the Village.

  “I have to get over there. That new pie shop owner has been a handful.”

  “I know. You miss the sexy sisters, right?”

  “At least they knew how to treat their customers.” He smiled and kissed me. “Go in and talk to Lucinda. I don’t know if she’s amazing or not, but Hephaestus down at the Pleasant Pheasant swears by her.”

  I grinned back at him. “So she’s young and attractive then.”

  “Just try her. Who knows? Maybe she can see Wanda too.”

  I almost didn’t bother going inside once I saw Chase cut through the alleyway between the museums. I didn’t need a phony Madame with ‘powers’. I needed the police to finish their investigation into Wanda’s death, tell everyone that I was innocent, and re-open the museum. If all that happened, I’d be just fine.

  “The only way you’re going to be fine is to get justice for me.” Wanda popped out of nowhere.

  That was enough for me. I ran into the cool, shaded interior of the purple tent.

  I didn’t see anyone for a moment. My eyes were still adjusting from the bright sunlight. As I got used to the darker space, I began to make out a small table with a crystal ball in the center of it.

  The room was filled with strange and unusual artifacts—antique knives, charms, carved wooden sticks. One of the most prominent was a dog-sized green dragon with glowing yellow eyes. It was perched on a shelf as though it might fly away at any moment.

  It was so lifelike—I reached to touch it.

  “Good day, and welcome, young woman.” A stooped gray-haired woman in a purple robe greeted me in a cheerful voice. She walked slowly, painfully, across the room and stopped before she reached me.

  “Good grief! What is that dead blue creature that has attached itself to you?”

  I grabbed her hand in excitement and gratitude. “You can see her? Can you make her go away?”

  “From here, yes.” She lifted her hand, and Wanda screeched as she flew back out of the tent as though pulled by invisible wires.

  “Yes! Does that mean I don’t have to see her again?” I was in awe at what Madame Lucinda had done. Amazing wasn’t the word for it.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. When the dead become part of our lives, we are the only people who can make them go away.” She was staring at the space beside me rather than at me. “In this case, I’d say she needs you.”

  I slumped down in one of the chairs at the table and the crystal ball lit up. “You don’t understand. She made my life miserable while she was alive. I’m pretty sure that’s what she wants to do now that she’s dead.”

  Madame Lucinda slowly sat opposite me. “Trust me, Jessie. Wanda needs your help. She can’t move on until her killer has been brought to justice. She thinks you’re the only one who can do this. Maybe it has something to do with her being blue. Maybe it’s a return for that indignity. What is it you all call that type of dishonor here?”

  I sighed. “A prank. Turning Wanda blue was a prank. It would’ve gone away in time.”

  She patted my hand on the table. “She’ll go away in time too. Never fear. Even the strongest haunting can only last so long.”

  “How long is that? Days? Weeks?”

  “Oh, usually not more than a hundred years. If you’re still seeing her after that, you’re probably only glimpsing a shade of her.”

  “A hundred years? I’ll be dead then too. Isn’t there anything you can do for me?”

  “I’m afraid not. Wanda and you are bound together until you find her killer. It’s as simple as that.
”

  That wasn’t the news I’d wanted to hear. I gave her a couple of dollars. She refused, and said that the next time I came I could bring her something silver. I walked to the front of the tent and glanced toward her with one last question.

  The dragon was now perched on the table, close to where I’d been sitting. Madame Lucinda was stroking its long neck and it was making purring sounds like a cat, but much louder.

  Forgetting the question and everything else but the need to escape, I ran out into the sunshine. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.

  Of course, that wasn’t a real dragon. This was the Renaissance Faire! Things like that happened here, but they weren’t real.

  “Right. Well, that was a bit odd, wasn’t it? Where are we off to first?” Wanda fell in step with me, although her feet didn’t touch the cobblestones.

  I didn’t jump this time. I was making some progress.

  “Okay. I get it now. Because my prank was the last thing you experienced, I have to make it up, like karma, by finding your killer.”

  “I think you’ve got it finally. You always were a little thick, Jessie.”

  “Good day, Lady Jessie.” A handsome, well-dressed lord from the castle tipped his hat to me and smiled.

  “Good day, Lord Simon.” Wanda curtsied a little and acknowledged him.

  “Good day, Lord Simon,” I repeated so he could hear it.

  “I am dreadfully sorry about what happened to you this morning.” He took my hand in his gloved one. “Terrible bit of luck there.”

  “It’s about time someone said it,” Wanda returned. “I have been maligned, you know.”

  “Thank you for your sympathy, my lord,” I replied.

  “On a lighter note, I received an invitation to your upcoming nuptials to the Bailiff. Good show! Looking forward to it.”

  I nodded modestly, as was proper, and Lord Simon went on his way.

  “I don’t believe it!” Wanda lashed out. “I’m standing here, dead, and he wishes you well on your wedding.”

  “He can’t see you,” I reminded her. I wish I couldn’t see you.

  “This is some serious mess you’ve gotten me into.”

  “Me? You’ve been nasty to everyone for as long as I can remember. Everyone hates you—hated you. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

  She glared at me—I’m talking big dead face, open red mouth, and evil green eyes. “That’s just too bad for you, isn’t it? If the fortune teller was right, the only way to get me off your back is to figure out what happened to me. You’d best start figuring.”

  I was getting used to her shock value. I barely trembled at her terrible face. “Okay. As I was saying, we have to figure out who killed you. What’s the last thing you remember before you . . . um . . . died?”

  “Don’t be shy about it.” She raised her head and screamed. “I’m dead.”

  Her voice was a hideous shriek that was heard above the racket made by daily life in the Village with ten thousand visitors. It frightened the seagulls perched on the top turrets of the castle, not something easily done.

  I noticed a few people in the crowd passing by turned and stared as though they could hear her. Just a few of the lucky ones like me.

  I decided to take this conversation off of the cobblestones. I walked behind the Dutchman’s Stage where a raunchy puppet show, with naked puppets wearing crowns symbolizing them as Queen Olivia and King Harold, was taking place. It was very funny, from the laughter of the crowd.

  I sat on a carved wood bench. Wanda kind of sat beside me.

  “Look, I’m sorry you’re dead,” I told her, only half lying. “You were a great pranker, and probably a good health professional. For some people. But we have to work together to find out what happened to you. What do you remember last? Was anyone with you this morning?”

  She seemed to think about it, rolling her eyes around until only the whites of them were showing. “The last thing I remember is realizing that you’d found a way to turn me blue. I took off my enchanted bracelet before the dye could reach it and threw it on the floor. I was very angry and already thinking of all the terrible things I could do to you during your wedding.”

  “Wait a minute. Enchanted bracelet?”

  “That’s right, dearie.” She tossed her head and her neck gave way, leaving her head dangling to one side. Her smile only made it worse. “I saw you staring at it when you were around me. Everyone did when they saw it. They all coveted it, including you. It was spelled for me years ago by a passing sorcerer.”

  “Wanda, I know you may think that what you’re saying makes sense. And maybe it does from your vantage point, being dead and all. Like maybe you think you look good with your head hanging off like that and your eyes all white.”

  She straightened her head and her eyes were kind of normal again. “Sorry. I didn’t realize. Is that better for you, love?”

  “Yes.” I smiled. “Thanks.”

  She totally lost it at that point. It was like her whole body started falling apart. Her eyes were rolling around and her tongue was hanging out.

  “It’s too bad for you that you have to see me this way. I don’t care. I’m barely forty, and I’m dead. Suffer.”

  “Barely forty? In your dreams.”

  Her hands came toward me like talons. “Some nerve you have speaking to me that way. If I weren’t a ghost, I’d rip your face off.”

  I admit my heart bumped a little at that moment. Apparently she couldn’t rip anything off. She could threaten. She could scare. But she couldn’t gouge. I was starting to understand her parameters.

  “I know you hate me. I pretty much hate you too. Let’s get through this, shall we? You were blue except for your enchanted bracelet, which you threw out of the shower. What happened next?

  Chapter Eight

  “I turned off the water and started to get out of the shower myself.” Wanda frowned. “I don’t know what happened after that. Someone was there. I can’t remember who. I felt a terrible pain in the center of my chest. I thought I was having a heart attack. Then nothing.”

  No matter how I felt about Wanda, it was hard not to be moved by the sorrow in her voice. I was going to have to adjust my attitude toward her. It wasn’t her fault that she was dead. She might have been annoying in life but certainly didn’t deserve to be murdered.

  “Did you have anyone there with you the night before you died?”

  Her face took on a dreamy quality—well as much as her horrible countenance could anyway.

  “Yes. It pains me to leave him more than anything.” She smiled and pointed toward the Field of Honor. “He’s the queen’s new champion, Sir Marcus Bishop, late of Atlanta. When he kisses you, you know you’ve been kissed. He’s so tender and kind. I’m sure some of that is his age, as he’s under thirty. But some of it is just him. His eyes are so blue, and his lips are so sweet, and . . .”

  “I get it.” I stopped her before she went on to any other body parts. “Maybe he’s the one we should see first.”

  “But he left me late last night, well before I was murdered. Marcus certainly had nothing to do with what happened to me.”

  “Let’s go and talk to him anyway. Maybe he saw something. They should be finishing up the last joust. I’ll head that way. You try not to talk to me when other people are around. I don’t want everyone to think I’m crazy.”

  Her laugh was vicious. “Too late for that, sweetie. The only reason anyone tolerates you here is because the Bailiff loves you. Remember that in future.”

  That was depressing. I didn’t expect anything else from her. It was one reason, out of many, that I never spent any more time with her than I had to. She always ruined my day.

  “What about Shakespeare—Pat?” I asked before we left the quiet spot behind the stage. “He was there right after I found you this morning. Now he’s vanished.”

  “He was always a coward. He was probably sneaking a peek at Marcus and me. I wouldn’t worry about him. I would
appreciate it if you found my enchanted bracelet. The sorcerer who gave it to me—another excellent lover—said it would give me immortality.”

  “Guess he had that wrong.”

  “Or the killer was able to take my life because I’d removed my bracelet. Think about that, Jessie. I’m going to freshen up. I’ll meet you at the field.”

  When she was gone, I took a deep breath. It felt good to be alone.

  But I was getting a handle on this. Wanda was dead. I was helping her. I understood what I was supposed to do. All I had to do was figure out who killed her, and everything would be fine.

  I was hurrying past the Monastery Bakery, the delectable smells of coffee and fresh cinnamon rolls enticing me to stop, when I heard a psst sound coming from behind some bushes. I got off of the cobblestones and went to investigate.

  “Is she here?” Pat/Shakespeare asked in a trembling voice.

  “What are you doing back there? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  He peeked out from behind the greenery. “Is she here? Have you seen Wanda?”

  I knelt on the grass and glanced around before I answered. “You mean dead Wanda?”

  His voice, usually melodic and smooth, was a gasp. “The ghost of Wanda.”

  “Yes. I guess she’s appeared to both of us.”

  “She’s hideous. Terrifying. I have to get away from the Village. I’m trying to keep her from following me.”

  “Good luck with that. I’ve spent way too much time with her today. She wants me to help find her killer. Did she ask you to do that too?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know why she appeared to me.”

  “You might as well get out of there. If she wants to find you, she’ll find you. She’s a ghost. She can go anywhere and do anything. She stuck her head through my door.”

  He wept, covering his face with his hands. His little triangle-shaped beard quivered. “You have to help me get away from her, Jessie. I have a bad heart and arthritis. I’m not a young man. I can’t take the strain.”

  “I don’t know anything I can do to help you. I can’t get rid of her either. Maybe since she’s following me, she won’t bother you anymore.”