Chapter 35
Relief. That was her just first emotion, it overwelmed her, she stumbled and felt Mart take her arm gently. She was relieved to see him, still looking a little tired and bruised, but clearly ok. (gorgeous in fact) On the heels of relief (and visual satisfaction) came anger, how could he just up and disappear like that? Didn't he know she - er -people would be worried? Why didn't he call...his Dad? Yes, why didn't he call his dad?
"Wow, Di, you were right," Trixie exclaimed as they converged on Tempest, "Great job!"
Di told herself firmly that Trixie really wasn't patronizing her.
Tempest was understandably bewildered to see them, but he greeted them with his usual politeness. He looked at Di first, but his smile seemed equally warm for Mart and Trixie, not that Di was noticing or anything. "Whoa, Bob Whites everywhere! Trixie! Mart! Di,um,Ana! I thought you were in Colorado Springs. Is my Dad back? Did you come here to see me? How could you know I was here?"
Di found herself disinclined to answer, since Tempest was back to calling her Di-um-ana. Trixie was hanging back too, which was so completely foreign to her nature that Di fought back a surge of jealousy. Trixie was in love with Jim, Di knew that without question. Of course, when Tempest found out they were engaged, he would be hurt, maybe badly hurt. She caught herself staring at Trixie again, with narrowed eyes, and hastily looked away. Mart, who had been behaving goofy all morning, was left to answer.
"Well, we didn't know you'd be here, we found out about a shop that your Mom might have some connection to, we were really just going to poke around. Didn't expect to find you here after your super secret exit from the Glen Road Inn yesterday."
Di expected Trixie to explain, but Trixie was still silent, looking almost pleadingly at Tempest. Desperate to hide her anger, Di pretended to look around the Renaissance Faire. Actually under other circumstances, Di would have been enchanted, the place looked like a fairy tale village come to life. Most of the crowd was dressed in Renaissance costumes, from simple peasant costumes to elaborate gowns like what she'd seen in Ella Kline's shop: gorgeous velvets, ribbons, lace, gold trim, heavy jewelry. There were spreading trees, little stone walls, open air stalls. There were kids laughing as they rode on a hand-powered carousel and the air was filled with the delicious aroma of cinnamon and vanilla. Di felt her bad mood lifting. Tempest was safe, and if he wasn’t paying Di any particular attention, he wasn't mooning over Trixie either. Instead, he was listening intently to Mart, who was explaining the strategizing, verifying, planning, and assigning that had gone on far too long after Di made the connection between TC, the chess set and the Renaissance Faire. Tempest looked terribly cute when he was serious.
She shifted her attention from Tempest’s adorable furrowed brow to a bubble floating by. The air was suddenly filled with them: enormous ones bobbing casually, small ones darting around like bees. The effect was almost magical and when a puff of wind blew, the wind chimes from a nearby shop sounded like faerie music. Her heart grew lighter as a girl about her age walked by in the exact same costume Di had worn as TC's assistant. The Renaissance Faire was so obviously TC's kind of place, that Di burst out, "TC! Is she here with you? Is she ok? Mart found out she was at the Glen Road Inn and that you were being followed!"
Tempest's smile suddenly looked real. "She's here, she's fine."
Trixie looked disconcerted. "She's here? Now?"
Mart stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned, "Um, have you called your father? I guess the case is solved."
Tempest stepped out of the way of a little boy chasing a bubble. "I thought he was in Colorado. I left a message at the hotel for him to call, but he hasn't yet. He did come back with you, right?"
Trixie answered (before Di could), "We got in around 5:00 am, maybe he's just resting. Honey is going to call him with an update, but -"
Di took advantage of Trixie flinching away from a persistent bubble to add, "We think Judson was working with the guy who owned the jewelry, Sheldon Clive. The guy who followed you yesterday is also working with him. That's why we were worried, you know, worried about TC, that is. She's really ok? Where is she?"
Trixie barely missed a beat. "We've heard so much about your Mom, Tempest, she sounds like an awesome lady, but I never heard she was invisible."
Nice to see Trixie had relaxed enough to make a joke, Di thought, as she felt her smile stretch wide enough to show her molars.
"She's only invisible when she wants to be, right now she is with a whole bunch of old English, um what do you call them? Revelers?"
Di and Trixie both started to speak but Mart said loudly, "Revelers, merry makers, waissels, fair goers, mirthful throng…"
Di glanced at Mart sharply. It had been a long time since Mart did his thesaurus impression. He only did it nowadays when he was nervous… was he picking up undercurrents? He grabbed Trixie by the arm. "Well Beatrix," (another old habit he had long discarded; calling Trixie by her real name) "I believe you owe me big time for being your guide. Having served you well in transporting you to Sterling Forest, I now demand my reward. The Renaissance Faire is a cornucopia of gastronomic delights and methinks the time is nigh for a feast, sponsored by the Belden Wheeler Detective Agency."
Trixie was now glaring at Mart. (with good reason, Di had to admit) "Do I really have to feed you this second, Mart? I have to …"
He almost literally hauled Trixie off, mumbling something about "You can thank me later Trix…"
Di stared at the bubbles. Mart knew her pretty well, it must have been obvious to him that she wanted to be alone with Tempest. Torn between gratitude and humiliation, she could think of nothing to say. Tempest too was giving a good imitation of a stone wall.
They watched a mom-type lady snap a picture of the kids on the carousel (It really was a lovely thing, painted bright yellow with delicate flowers and butterflies on it) As it stopped and the shouting children hopped off, Tempest finally turned to her and she suddenly felt jumpy. "Di, there’s something I - " There was a long pause and then he said,
"Want to blow some bubbles?"
That wasn’t exactly what she expected, perhaps it wasn’t what he meant to say. Demurely she agreed that their first priority should be blowing bubbles, not talking about TC, stolen jewels or, er, certain developments in Trixie’s life. Di glanced sideways at Tempest as a smiling, costumed girl with curly hair gave her a large bubble wand; a 12 inch stick with a tangle of wire at one end. Tempest’s was different: a stick with a hoop at the end. Looking as serious as if bubble blowing were an Olympic event, he dipped the wand in a wooden bucket of sudsy water.
Di dipped her own "wand" and waved it with great vigor, only to spray Tempest with little droplets. He grinned and she was unfairly reminded of him in the hotel room after his shower. In spite of the smile, he looked vulnerable. She should tell him Trixe was engaged; help him get over it, er rather, get it over with. She opened her mouth, took a deep breath and inhaled the enormous bubble he’d just produced.
"Blech!" was her romantic, sympathetic utterance. He laughed outright and the constraint between them was gone, although so was her chance to break the news to him. Still she felt better when Tempest said, "It was nice of Mart to be so tactful. Is it obvious that I have a lot to tell you?"
He waved his wand easily back and forth, sending big, lazy bubbles high into the treetops as he told her about TC coming to see him skate, about rainsticks, about sneaking onto trains and busses, and about Merrie Ellen.
She was silent after he finished speaking, feeling that the bright sunshine and children’s laughter was almost out of place with all the suspicions growing in her mind. "So you think Ellen has the jewelry?"
"Mom doesn’t think so, but, darn it, Ana, who else could have had it? If Clive had it, why would be spend all these years trying to find Mom? Why would he have Judson break into her cottage, try to kidnap her – you?" He carefully placed his wand in the bucket, moved closer to her, touched her forehead gently. She leaned against his palm, inviting further caresses. The wind chimes rang out again and Tempest’s hand dropped.
Di jabbed her bubble wand in the water, but when her violent swishing produced a cluster of bubbles, she couldn't restrain a smile of triumph. He didn't seem to take much pleasure in the stream of bubbles blowing in his face; his scar was white against his tan as he said, "Mart said you're the one who figured out where we were, Di."
She tossed her wand back into the bucket. "Not really, it was Trixie, as usual. Getting engaged to Jim doesn’t interfere with her crimesolving,"
it was a stupid thing to say. It was a stupid time to say it. It was a stupid way to say it. She should have broken the news gently, she could have comforted him. But why was he calling her "Di" instead of "Ana"? Now he was probably just disgusted by her jealousy. Guilty, she sneaked a peek under her lashes at him.
His eyes were narrowed. He didn't look heartbroken exactly or shocked. Actually he looked slightly dangerous, even with a bubble perched in his hair. And still he was saying nothing! By God, she would get him to talk!
"Guess you don't get a second chance after all!" Idiotically, she clapped her hands over her mouth as if she could take the words back.
Finally he made a small sound, kind of between a laugh and a snort. He took her hand (a little too late!) and led her to a wicker bench under a tree. Waiting for the blistering retort she deserved, she snuck another glance sideways. If anything he looked nervous. And determined. He swallowed and touched the blue veins on her wrist very gently. When he finally started talking, his sentences were short, unemotional at first. She wouldn't say he relaxed as he continued, she could feel how tense his body was, but somehow she could tell it got easier for him as he continued.
It was not exactly how she had dreamed it, but in a way it was a more powerful declaration than him simply saying, "I love you."
When he stopped talking, he was no longer looking at her, his eyes looked blind; he was obviously seeing a cold, misty ice rink, obviously feeling the barrel of a gun pressed with bruising force against his knee. She tightened her hold on his hand and he shook himself slightly
She found her voice and typically, said something stupid, "It's not fair that you don't remember the Olympics, you were so good, so happy."
He actually laughed a little. "Well, I can't say I don't agree, maybe it will come back to me. Someday. In a way, it’s only fair. I probably wouldn't have won if I hadn't been so fired up to keep busy and try and forget the whole mess."
She wanted to protest, but it was not the time. No, it was time for more straight shooting: "You have never told anyone about this." It was a statement not a question. Or maybe an accusation.
"I told Dad that night. Most of it. Trixie and Bob know, too, of course." He may or may not have felt her tense up, but he added haltingly, "And now you know. You're the only one I have told everything to. I mean, about, well, everything, the nightmares and all that. But I am over the worst of it now.
"You are still having nightmares," she protested unhelpfully.
Yes, a little." He finally looked at her directly and his smile was twisted. "I figured I must have been doing some talking in my sleep too. Did I happen to mention Trixie?"
She mumbled a shamed yes and stared fixedly at the sunbeam dancing across the road. Coming directly toward her was some mistrels, a man in green plucking at the strings of a zither or a lute or something, the girl singing softly
He holds her in his arms,
Would you? Would you?
He tells her of her charms,
Would you? Would you?
They met as you and I,
and they were only friends,
but before the story ends...He'll kiss her with a sigh,
Would you? Would you?
And if the girl were I,
Would you? Would you?
And would you dare to say,
let's do the same as they?
I would, Would you?
And would you dare to say,
let's do the same as they?
I would, Would you?Tempest moved closer to Di, although they were already pretty cozy on the bench. He brushed her hair back and spoke earnestly.
"I can't say I didn't have an attraction to Trixie last year. And yes, it made it harder, knowing she saw me being a total coward with Julie." She started to protest, but he covered her lips with two fingers and spoke fiercely. "But when I knew she was engaged, when I saw that she really was committed, I put her out of my mind. You've got to believe that. I've had a year and a half, you know - "
She almost slapped his hand away and exclaimed, "More like a minute and a half! You just found out! They only got engaged last week!"
"Hey, don't mess with a guy who had a head injury, ok? I do remember that much, they had a big party at Christmas, she was wearing a diamond ring, she told me she really was happy. "
"Oh my God, Tempest, they didn't get engaged there, that party was to celebrate Trixie going back to the detective agency!" As soon as the words were out, she wished she could take them back, but he had to know the truth.
He looked stunned. His lips moved. Then a burst of laughter and he threw his arms around her.
She got onto her knees and turned his head till he was looking right into her eyes. He was smiling, his eyes unclouded, and she smiled back. It dawned on her that it was ok for her to say it in so many words. So she did. She meant to say it in clearing ringing tones, but it turned out a husky whisper worked just fine.
Chapter 36
Mart had been acting like a village idiot all morning, she should never have let him drive them up, but Trixie had foolishly thought this would be a great chance for Mart and Di to revive their old, er, comraderie. Now she was stuck with him. In spite of his claims of hunger he was leading her past stalls selling all kind of tempting treats, winding his way through the dustry streets with such confidence it dawned on her he must be a frequent visitor to the faire. Why didn’t I know that, she wondered crossly. Why didn’t he say so, she wondered even more crossly. Going to a Renaissance Faire was such a, a, a, Mart thing to do, she should have figured it out.
Mart eventually dropped her arm which was good, and starting acting even stranger than ever, which was bad. ,Why was he pausing to stare with genuine fascination at a shop’s display of velvet hats and caps trimmed with lace and ribbons? Darn it, she was wasting time. She had already wasted time, feeling so timid with Tempest. But Di had been so unnerving and - Trixie shook herself and forced her mind back tot he matter at hand. What on earth had Annie had been doing for the last two weeks, heck, for the last twenty years? Where was the stolen jewelry and why, assuming Annie hadn't taken the stuff, why was Clive was so eager to find her? It was up to Trixie Belden to find out!
Before she could sneak away, Mart found what he was looking for, a white lace bonnet kind of thing. Before she could dart away, he'd placed it on her head and said, "Lace for Milady!"
Trixie opened her mouth and let him have it. Mart listened politely as she let loose a few weeks of frustration and angered her further by nodding approvingly once or twice when she mentioned certain brothers who couldn't think beyond their next meal. She was running out of breath and wrapped it up, "… you to interfere in my case. Bill Smith wants us not just to find Annie, but to clear her name, remember? So, dear Twin, will you please let me get back to my job?"
"Sure Trix, in just one minute...or two. Give Diana a chance. She's closer to this whole situation than you." Trixie was as puzzled as she was angry, especially at his next words, " And anyway, I was hoping - I want your opinion on something." He took the little white cap back and placed it carefully back in the display.
"My opinion? On what to eat? In a hat shop? I’m not sure I’ll be much help."
"In sooth, Lady Beatrix, I find that perambulating among chapeaux assists my cogitations." He strolled toward the back of the shop and picked up a velvet cap with little pearls in it and studied it as he added, "I've been wanting to talk to you for a while; actually since Sheila and I broke up. Can you spare one minute from your Case of the Missing Puppeteer to, to, well let me bounce some ideas around?"
Ashamed, Trixie interrupted without thinking, "Oh Mart, is it because, because Honey and Brian - I mean because me and Jim- I mean, You're not thinking of - well, are you?"
He adjusted a mirror on the shelf and placed the hat on his own head. "It's a good thing I'm you're brother, or I wouldn't begin to understand that sentence. But since I AM your brother, I will merely confirm your suspicions. The love in the air doth indeed maketh me consider romantic possibilities, both old and new."
She barely breathed. Mart was completely serious under the goofy hat.
He took it off and placed it gently back on the shelf. "Geez, Trix, when I saw her again, it was like, I wondered how I could be so blind. She's such a, a fine person. People think of her as timid or weak, but you know something, Trixie? She's brave, determined, and no one ever seems to realize how smart she is; you know, they just judge on her appearance." He kicked at the corner of the shop and added in a low voice. "I spent years judging her on her appearance. And then, just the other day, it was like I saw her for the first time."
It was more than Trixie had even hoped for. "Whoa, Mart," was all she could manage.
He relaxed slightly and pulled a few bills from his pocket, handed them to the shopkeeper, who actually curtsied. Then with a flourish, he "crowned" Trixie with a wreath of dried flowers and curling ribbons. "So, my question for you is, do you think I should pursue this? It won't seem too sudden for her or anything?"
Trixie laughed with delight "Uh, no Mart, I don't think it would be too sudden." Feeling strangely shy with her brother, she fiddled with the long blue ribbons, but told him firmly, "Mart, I think she’ll be very happy."
He put the beaded velvet hat back on, then tipped it politely. "Well, Lady Beatrix, now that we have that settled, I am ready for my feast. We’ll have a turkey leg or two and then rendezvous for council of war with the gallant Tempest, the beauteous Diana and the elusive Annie"
Wondering why he was not eager to get back to "the beauteous Diana" and start wooing her, Trixie started to suggest retracing their steps when suddenly his blue eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped.
She turned and found herself sputtering half completed sentences. Walking down the High Street of the New York Renaissance Faire was Bob. He passed the hat shop with his head held high, his steely Private Eye gaze, and his athlete’s swagger, but the effect was ruined by the fact that he was gnawing at a caramel apple with great enjoyment.
In unison, Trixie and Mart bolted from the shop.
Unfortunately, a cluster of people gathered around some streetplayer interfered with their hot pursuit. Some guy and girl, minstrels, she supposed, were singing a tra-la-la type song and strumming a mandolin. Trixie ground her teeth in frustration. Although she wanted to shove rudely through the crowd, she pasted an appreciative smile on her face and wove her way through gently. Unfortunately, the mistrels were in reality strolling players and they were strolling the same direction Bob had gone. The tune followed her and Mart,
He married his wife in the mouth of June
Risselty-rossilty, now now now.
He carried her off in a silver spoon.Risselty-rossilty, hey bom-bossety
Nickety-nackety, retrical quality
Willaby-wallaby, now now now.
She combes her hair but once a year
Risselty-rossilty, now now now.Trixie stepped on somone’s toe and whispered an apology, glad that Bob was tall enough to be visible through the applauding crowd. The applause died away as the minstrels began another verse.
With every pull she sheds a tear.
Risselty-rossilty, hey bom-bossetyNickety-nackety, retrical quality
Willaby-wallaby, now now now.She’d lost sight of Bob. Drat! Ahead of her was a convenient stump and she climbed up for a better view. A blond curly head was moving past a sign that pointed to the Mud Theater, whatever that was. "I see him,"she told Mart and they pressed onward, the strolling players strolling and playing behind them.
She sweeps the floor but once a year
Risselty-rossilty, now now now.
She says her broom is much to dearRisselty-rossilty, hey bom-bossety
Nickety-nackety, retrical quality
Willaby-wallaby, now now now.
She churns the butter in father's old boot
Risselty-rossilty, now now now.
And for a dasher she uses her footRisselty-rossilty, hey bom-bossety
Nickety-nackety, retrical quality
Willaby-wallaby, now now now.
The butter turned out a grisly gray
Risselty-rossilty, now now now.
Risselty-rossilty, hey bom-bossety
Nickety-nackety, retrical qualityWillaby-wallaby, now now now.
The cheese grew legs and ran away.
Risselty-rossilty, hey bom-bossety
Nickety-nackety, retrical quality
Willaby-wallaby, now now now.The song was winding down (she could only hope) the crowd was dispersing, revealing not just Bob, but Honey, Jim and Brian as well. As Trixie struggled for words (and breath) the minstrels launched into song one more time
The cheese still sits upon the shelf.
Risselty-rossilty, now now now.
It you want any more, you can sing it yourself.All five Bob Whites glanced at the players, but it seemed they were (finally) out of rossity tossity verses. They clapped, the stolling players bowed and strolled off, and the Bob White huddle could begin. No one seemed to want to begin, however.
Trixie noticed in a corner of her mind that they were right by a rather cool looking pirate ship. A swinging sign identified the area as "Kid’s Kingdom" and it had in addition to the ship, a very pretty swinging dragon ride, and a bunch of benches facing a brightly painted stage. She watched two little girls in matching pink costumes making a game of hopping from one bench to another as she drew in enough breath to as a very quiet question.
"Does anyone want to fill me in on what the heck you are all doing here?" that broke the ice and of course, everyone started talking at once. She’d had a lot of practice as a teen listening to all her friends explain at the same time. Once she got the gist of their tales, Trixie threw up her arms. "Another person gone missing! Is it a full moon? You think Bill Smith came here?"
Honey’s eyes were glittering dangerously, a rather weird sight. "I called right after you left and at first he just seemed relieved that Annie was all right. Until I told him about the chess set and the shop it came from. Then he just kind of quietly exploded. It obviously meant something to him, and I tried to find out what, but he blew me off; just thanked me and hung up. He knows something, but he’s long gone. T the desk clerk said he check out right after I called."
Brian put his arm around Honey. "And in the meantime…"
Jim laughed mirthlessly, his eyes glittering the same way his adopted sister’s had. "It was a busy morning! Heather called me from Skate Connection. She said two guys were hanging around, sounds like it was Jeff Johnson and probably Sheldon Clive, they had some story about wanting to sponsor a hockey team. The head of the hockey program showed them around. And it was totally bad luck but…"
Bob took his turn. "Amelia tells me the Internet is nothing compared the skate-mom network and she was right! Some kid’s mom saw Tempest last night at the train station and got him to sign some autographs. The kids were all agog about them and showing them off. But get this: Tempest signed them on fliers for the New York Renaissance Faire! Heather is pretty sure Johnson and Clive saw them."
Trixie was speechless for a minute than she said rather sarcastically, "Is that all" and was shaken when they exchanged uneasy glances. "There’s MORE?"
Bob looked hopefully at Honey, apparently for once willing to let someone else tell the story. Honey pressed her lips together, then said it in a voice calculated to force them all to remain calm. "Heather is really worried. She overheard Clive threatening Tempest. That’s why we all rushed here."
She hadn’t seen that one coming. Temporarily robbed of speech, she glanced round the earnest faces and saw conflict in Jim’s eyes. Must be horrible she thought absently, taking his hand, but most of her mind was focused on the threat.
"That doesn’t make any sense." she mumbled.
Bob, ever earnest, assured her, "Heather was positive, she heard it clearly, they said something like they were going to rip Tempest apart!" He added reassuringly, "We thought about calling the police, but back last year when Julie attacked him, Tempest really hated all the attention from the journalists and stuff. He doesn’t want to be rescued, you know? So we thought all of us together would be more than a match for those two. And Honey wants to get her hands on Johnson anyway…"
He probably would have continued saying untactful things but the group was gradually becoming aware of more activity, Renaissance Style. A girl was banging on a drum and bellowing in a rather impressive voice, "Puppet Show! Puppet show!" A stream of children followed her into the Kid's Kingdom, most in normal clothes, but a few in costume.
The drumming was getting louder and she realized it was more than just the single drummer, there was a big procession thingy following the kids. At least twenty people, in full renaissance regalia paraded past them. Drums, horns, it was like being in a movie. The Bob Whites backed up almost to the pirate ship’s sides and watched the pageantry. They had no choice really. But as soon as they could get out of the Kids Kingdom, Trixie vowed, they would go "rescue" Tempest Smith, whether he liked it or not!
The air was filled with the flourishes from the horns and the staedy beating of the drums. There was nowhere to move and she clenched her fists in frustration until Jim tweaked her ribbons. She couldn't hear him, but he was obviously trying to reassure her. And he was right. What harm could come to Tempest in the middle of a Renaissance Faire, for crying out out! Shouts of "Huzzah, Huzzah" rang out all around her and she succumbed to the moment, tilting her head up for a quick kiss. The shouts changed to "God save the Queen" and she opened her eyes to see a remarkable, regal woman striding briskly past. Queen Elizabeth herself, of course. It was a surprisingly thrilling moment.
The crowd was really getting into it, all except for two men. With a shock, Trixie recognized them just before they disappeared past the hat shop; Jeff Johnson and Sheldon Clive.
To Be Continued