Murderous Matrimony(41)

Reminder to self: Have locks changed at the museum and be sure backdoor is locked. Otherwise you risk becoming the Village make-out spot.

“I’m sorry one of mine caused trouble,” Robin apologized.

“No problem. I was hoping Sofie, or one of your people, had seen something that night that could help find Dave’s killer.”

“I might know something,” Sofie muttered. “I was there in the basement with Shakespeare. There were some voices outside. I heard two men arguing. They kept their voices low, so I didn’t recognize them.”

“That’s what I was looking for. Anything else that might be helpful?”

“Shakespeare said he could tell one of the men was Master Archer Simmons. You should talk to him.”





Chapter Twelve



“Thanks,” I said to Sofie. “I’ll talk to him again.”

Why was Shakespeare keeping things from me? Was he afraid he might implicate Master Simmons, as I was? He’d been there as long as the master archer. He probably knew more about that part in his life that he wanted to keep hidden.

I thanked Alex and Robin for their hospitality. Robin did his famous laugh with his hands on his hips, and his head thrown back. I knew it wasn’t for my benefit—there had to be visitors behind me.

I turned around. They were obviously ardent fans of Sherwood. Each of them wore green outfits and carried a bow.

“I’ll walk you out, shall I?” Marion offered, slipping her arm in mine.

“We have guests in the forest, Lady Marion,” Robin reminded her.

“You can handle them,” she called back. “I need to talk to Jessie about the wedding.”

Marion was more excited than I was about the wedding. She also had more questions than I had answers.

“Jessie, you need a wedding planner. How else are we all going to know what’s going on? What if the Queen’s gown is going to clash with your wedding gown? What if Chase looks better than the king?”

We both laughed at that. Of course Chase was going to look better than King Harold.

“You know what I mean,” she said when we’d stopped laughing. “Everyone is buzzing about it. There are even pictures of your dress on the Internet.”

That was news to me. I’d been too busy doing other things to spend much time online. “Who could’ve done that?”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t know? I think it was Portia. You know how she likes to rattle your cage.”

“I don’t care.” I did, but it was too late. “Beth has already changed my gown once for the queen.”

“But would she tell you if there was any other problem? You need somebody in your court.”

I thought she was offering for a moment, but that wasn’t her agenda. “I certainly hope your wedding isn’t overshadowed by this murder. That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”

Apparently, she wanted to rattle my cage too. “I don’t think I have to worry about that. The murder of a madman at the Village isn’t going to get that much press. Wanda’s ghost might.”

“Speaking of the ghost, have you thought that she might have killed Dave? After all, she seems vicious enough. It was a cruel thing to do, wasn’t it? Why else would someone want to kill poor Dave?”

“I’m not sure yet why anyone would want to kill Dave, but I don’t think Wanda did it.” The rumors were getting more elaborate. “Although I’d rather it be her than someone else we all know.”

“I suppose,” she sighed. “Well, I’m off to do some shopping. I’m embarking on a new career, you know. I’m going to be a world famous actress!”

“Congratulations,” I muttered as she squeezed my arm and then headed toward Stylish Frocks. I wondered if Robin knew her plans.

The museum was busier when I stopped by again. It might have been because the rain was driving everyone indoors. The cobblestones and the soggy Village Green were mostly empty. I could see visitors hanging out in the Honey and Herb Shoppe too. Everyone was hoping the rain would pass before the whole day was lost.

I stood off to the side and listened as Oliver explained about weaving as he worked the loom. He told the crowd about how tapestries were first used to hang on walls to help keep drafty huts and castles warmer in the winter.

“These rich hangings were full of color and life,” he continued as his sure hands worked the loom to create his own tapestry. “We have to imagine that they brought a much needed relief to the drab world of the Dark Ages.”

Oliver’s tapestry, which he gladly showed visitors, was of a country scene with a colorful cottage. There was great detail of swans on the lake and birds in the air. Clouds hung in the blue sky. It was an idyllic world.