“Why not?” Tinkie asked.
“Whoever attacked me came out of the backyard.”
“I thought I heard someone earlier,” I said, “but then I thought maybe I was just imagining things. I looked, but the hedge was so thick, I didn’t see anyone or anything suspicious.” Except for Jitty. And if someone saw that exchange, they’d believe I was completely nuts.
“Why not tell the others?” Tinkie persisted. “They may need to be on the alert.”
“I don’t want Darla worried that I was injured on her property,” Coleman said. “She has enough on her with Kathleen’s disappearance. I’m really not hurt.” He rubbed the side of his head. “I was just stunned.”
“And knocked unconscious.” I didn’t buy his self-diagnosis at all, but I wasn’t going to argue with Coleman in front of Tinkie. “What are you going to tell Darla about the mumming?” I checked my watch. It was time to put on the costumes if we were going to participate.
“Nothing. I’m ready to play Robin Hood.” He used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe at the blood on his face.
Tinkie rolled her eyes at me as she opened the front door of the inn. “If you two ever had a baby together, it would have a skull as hard as a granite slab.”
“Hurry, hurry,” Darla said as she pulled us into the house. “Get into your costumes. It’s time to perform.”
Coleman grabbed my hand and dragged me up the stairs. “Get into your costume,” he said. “It’s important if we want to resolve this matter.”
“I’d feel better if you got into a hospital gown and had your head checked out.”
“Dream on.” Coleman pulled me into our bedroom and closed the door. It was time to suit up for the evening’s festivities. I supposed we could all ignore that a serial attacker was on the loose, a woman was still missing from a boating incident, and Coleman had been attacked outside the B and B.
25
By the time we started toward Rook’s Nest, we’d already hit a bunch of homes with our Robin Hood act. We’d perfected our drama and gathered over five thousand dollars in donations for the Columbus animal shelter. Darla had not been kidding. People in Columbus had money and were willing to donate it to a good cause. With each successful performance, we grew bolder and bolder in our presentation. And the feather in our cap—the “Robin Hood Blues” duet with Cece and Jaytee—brought the house down as far as raking in donations. Rook’s Nest was our last stop, and Darla had insisted we go there. She said Clarissa had a small gathering of friends over and they were expecting to see us. Clarissa had promised a substantial donation and Darla pleaded with us to go there on behalf of the shelter animals. Though I was loath to go to Clarissa’s, the needs of the shelter animals won out over my reluctance.
“We have just one more night in Columbus after tonight,” Tinkie said to me as we clanked along the sidewalk toward Clarissa’s house. The Sheriff of Nottingham, with his armor and sword, was rather noisy. Coleman, Cece, and Jaytee were in front of us, and Tinkie let out a wolf whistle. “Nice legs, Robin! And Friar Tuck, those fat pads are very becoming.”
Despite her protestations that she wasn’t an actress, Cece had perfected the waddle. And Coleman did have great-looking legs. They were shown to advantage in the green leggings and tunic. Even better, he seemed to have completely recovered from being hit in the head.
“I wouldn’t kid too much. Coleman and Cece will get even, you know.” I thought it wise to warn my teasing cohorts.
“I’m counting on it,” Tinkie said. “Coleman’s been too quiet, and Cece is plotting something. She’s not going to leave Columbus without some kind of final flare-up!”
She was right about that. “It’s been an … activity-filled trip, Tinkie. Thank you. What a great idea. Maybe if we can figure out how to avoid mayhem, we can make it an annual tradition to travel to a Mississippi town to celebrate the holidays.”
“I’m going to ignore the snark and just say that can be arranged.”
“Excellent.”
“Has Coleman said anything about who attacked him?”
It was a curious thing that Coleman had avoided all conversation about how he’d been set upon outside the B and B. He’d hushed me whenever I tried to bring it up, saying Darla had enough woe and worry without knowing her guest had been whacked upside the head by a derelict lurking about the property. I knew there was more to his reluctance than he let on. I just didn’t know why he was so reticent to tell us what had happened.
“Coleman hasn’t said a peep. He says Darla is too stressed. That I should just let it go. He knows more than he’s letting on.”
“Maybe his brain is rattled.”
I pushed Tinkie on the arm. “That’s not very nice.”
“I meant from being struck. Coleman isn’t making a lot of sense in his conduct, protecting someone who attacked him.” She grinned wickedly. “On the other hand, he sure fills out those tights and he’s doing great as Robin Hood.”
“And you’re the perfect Maid Marian.” Tinkie’s costume was beautiful, and it suited her. Even the long chestnut wig.
“You’re pretty convincing as Mortianna. The way you’re shuffling around, dragging a foot and acting like some kind of wicked witch, predicting all kinds of dire things. You scared those children at the last house. Maybe you should take off the wig and get rid of those awful contact lenses.”
“Nah, I love to scare children. Just wait until yours is born. I’m going to teach that baby to love scary movies and stories.”
“You’re probably going to be a terrible influence. I’ve already accepted that.” She gave me a quick hug. “And it’s perfectly fine. Just watch the Mortianna act. If you come out of those bushes and scare someone like you did at the last house, they may shoot you.”
“Me?” I pretended outrage. “When Friar Tuck burst
