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

thought hard about his clothes. “He was dressed like someone with money. Maybe a lord or a king. I think he was mostly wearing red and black. Oh! And he wore gloves and matching boots.”
    I wrote what she said on one of the papers in the file.
    “Anything else? Was he dark-haired? Fair? Did you hear him speak?”
    “I heard him speak. There wasn’t anything different about it. He wasn’t British or anything like Wanda. He had dark hair, like Chase, but maybe not so long. He wore a short sword. That’s all I can remember.”
    “Thanks.” I put the stubby pencil in the leather bag tied around my waist, next to my cup for free drinks. “I’m sure this will be helpful.”
    “I hope you catch him.” She started crying again. “Apple Blossom was like my sister, only better, because my sister is completely stupid and I hate her.”
    “We’ll be in touch, Blueberry Fairy.”
    “Blueberry. Or Stacie.” She corrected her name. “Thank you.”
    She stood at the fountain again for a while and looked so forlorn that I really felt sorry for her. A few other fruit fairies joined her—cherry, peach, and orange.
    I thought about her description of the man who might have killed Apple Blossom. Too bad that description fit so many men wandering around the Village. It could even have been Chase. No wonder Detective Almond had questioned him.
    Robin Hood and his Merry Men were reenacting their daily show of chasing the Sheriff of Nottingham out of Sherwood Forest.
    I wasn’t sure what the Village personnel director had been thinking when he’d hired the new sheriff. He was short and thin, wore glasses, and apparently didn’t ride a horse, although that was usual to this skit.
    In contrast, Robin and his men were tall and brawny. They didn’t ride horses either, which was just as well. It would’ve looked as though they were bullying the sheriff if they had. The new sheriff kept running down the cobblestones toward the other end of the Village as Robin did his famous laugh and the audience applauded.
    Even when the skit was over, the sheriff was still running. It looked as though they might need a new sheriff.
    Chase was back from lunch—with Isabelle clinging to him like a side-saddle. My hopes for our continued relationship plummeted.
    “Jessie.” He was upbeat about her presence—ridiculously so. “Isabelle is going to help us with the investigation.”
    “So you’re not needed, squire.” She smiled at me. “You can go back to the stables and shine Chase’s armor.”
    “We talked about this,” Chase said to her. “Jessie is helping. She can shine armor later.”
    “But that was before I was here, baby.” She put her hand on his chest. “We don’t need her now.”
    “I need her. She’s my squire. I only have about an hour until the next joust. She stays.” His decision was surprisingly forceful.
    I really wanted to stick my tongue out at her when Chase’s back was turned, but I didn’t do it. Instead I told him what the blueberry fairy had said about her friend. He said the same thing about her description matching a hundred men in the Village.
    “Let’s take up our quest and go to Leather and Lace ,” he suggested. “Maybe they have a lead on the older man wearing red.”
    “Sounds like Santa,” Isabelle purred and snuggled up to him.
    Chase and I both ignored her, but she held his arm as we went into the Renaissance clothing store.
    It was very dark in the small building. Candles burned from sconces on the walls. It would’ve been this way if it had been the 1500s. Despite the bright sunlight outside, there were very few windows. They were mostly too expensive for small businesses or poor people.
    The owner of Leather and Lace greeted Chase with a hearty handshake. Dan Kayes was tall and muscled—not so much as Chase—but the two men were obviously friends. Dan had a massive amount of curly blond hair that matched his curly beard.
    “What can I do for you, Sir Knight?” Dan laughed.