Fatal Fairies (Renaissance Faire Mystery Book 8) by Joyce Lavene, Jim Lavene

winter.
    People loved the romantic performance. There were always tears and sighs when the couple was both dead. Not much of a romance to my mind. I didn’t want my romance with Chase to end that way.
    There was applause from the tearful visitors as beautiful Juliet and handsome Romeo were laid out together at the end. As the performance ended, the visitors began to look at their Village maps for their next destination.
    Chase waited until the couple was alone and drinking water from the canteens that were allowed in the Village. There were no plastic water bottles here—at least not for residents.
    “Warren.” Chase shook his hand. “Nice performance. How many times a day are you doing this now?”
    Sexy, dark-eyed, dark-haired Warren wiped his sweaty brow with a towel. “Too many. I requested a transfer to the castle. Who is your lovely squire?” He kissed my hand. “Hi there, cutie.”
    “Sorry,” Chase said. “Squires can’t speak unless their masters speak to them.”
    “As it should be,” Fake Juliet said in a waspish tone. “What do you want, Chase? We’re kind of busy here. Of course we would be even busier if Warren quit messing up his lines.”
    “Me? I’ve never worked with a worse actress than you, Paulette. And forget the kissing. I’d rather kiss a rock.”
    Before the couple could erupt into full civil war, I broke in. “We were wondering if you saw anything unusual the evening that the fairy was killed.”
    Chase glared at me for talking out of turn, but in another minute, there wouldn’t have been time before the next show to ask them anything.
    Warren took my hand again. “She speaks! The angel has a voice of a thousand church bells.”
    “Okay.” Chase put a stop to the effusive compliments. “I’ll punish her later. Did either of you see anything unusual?”
    Paulette drank some water and used a towel to carefully dab perspiration from her face.
    “I think she was already dead when we got finished. Warren and I thought she was sick. From here it looked like she was leaning over the edge of the fountain instead of drowning in it. Sorry we can’t help.”
    “She’s right,” Warren agreed. “Who’d do something like this with thousands of visitors wandering around the Village? He had to be cold, that’s for sure.”
    “Or sure of himself,” Paulette added. “Crazy things go on here every day. I thought Lorenzo had killed Diego the other day. Unless you were paying very close attention, anyone might have thought she was sick like we did.”
    “Wish we could help,” Warren said. “I don’t like the idea that someone was killed right in our own backyard. Have you talked to Merlin? I remember seeing him out there that day. Maybe he noticed something.”
    Chase thanked them and wished Warren good luck with his new job. We walked away as the audience was already starting to fill up again.
    “You’re not going by the squire’s code,” he reminded me.
    “You were waiting too long. They only have short breaks.”
    “I think there’s a rule against squires arguing with their masters too.”
    He grinned as he said it. He was joking, but I knew a few knights and royal personages who had very strict rules for their servants.
    “Well I’m walking behind you,” I observed. “That might be the best you’re going to get. Unless you need a massage after a joust. I’m very good with my hands.”
    It was suggestive for both a friend and a squire. His eyes darkened in surprise, and then he looked away.
    Score one for me!
    We reached the Fractured Fairy Tales Pavilion , but they were in the middle of their weird, R-rated rendition of the Goldilocks and the Three Bears. The audience laughed loudly as Papa Bear took Goldilocks over his knee.
    “We’ll talk to them later,” Chase decided. “It’s almost lunchtime. Let’s see if we can catch someone at Leather and Lace after lunch.”
    “Where are you planning to eat?” I casually questioned.
    “I always have lunch with