Newborn Pixie Cozy Mysteries Box Set

by Willow Mason

  The sisters stared at each other, communicating something in a silent language I couldn’t translate.

  “Only one person can inherit,” Rosie said at last. “And you’re the only member of the family who meets the criteria.”

  “Please say you’ll take the estate,” Posey said, grasping hold of my hands and squeezing. “We’d be desperately sad if you left now, empty-handed.”

  Although I should be happy at being the sole beneficiary of a windfall, no matter how small, I couldn’t shake the sense of guilt. Still, I could always split it up later, to ensure none of my cousins missed out.

  “How much are we talking about?”

  Rosie smiled. “Oh, there’s her collection of paintings and the jewellery—”

  “Not to mention all the money in her bank account and anything stored under the floorboards,” Posey ended off.

  “Floorboards?”

  “Part of the estate is the house she was living in…” Rosie shuffled through the papers and selected one, pushing it towards me. “Here you go.”

  The top photograph showed a two-storey house with roses climbing up the red brickwork. Beneath it was a detailed list of the chattels.

  It would be lovely not to worry about rent for a few months. “How long had she paid the lease up to?” I asked, trying to contain my excitement.

  The twins exchanged another loaded glance. “There’s no lease. She owned the house.”

  Nobody in my family had ever owned anything. We lived from paycheque to paycheque and counted ourselves lucky if we had a small buffer saved in the bank. I’d thought perhaps she had a few months left of a one-year lease but…

  I rubbed my forehead. No, there was surely some mistake.

  “You mean, it’s a long-term rental or a rent-to-buy or something.” I didn’t pose it as a question. Obviously, there’d been a mistake.

  “No, we mean the house was hers,” Rosie said, enunciating every word carefully.

  “But she has a mortgage?”

  “No mortgage. She owned it free and clear.”

  A house. A whole house. Something I’d never even thought to dream of.

  Posey hurried to say, “There’s enough money in your aunt’s accounts to take care of the rates bills for the foreseeable and more besides.” She seemed to think the situation was one I needed to be cajoled into. “If you don’t take the inheritance, there’ll be no one to care for her cat!”

  “Oh, I’ll definitely take it,” I squeaked, pressing a hand to my chest. “Where do I sign? What do I do? How do I get the keys?”

  The twins laughed in amusement and relief.

  “There’s just one more ceremony we need to perform and then everything will be transferred into your name. Although I still have to apply for probate, with no other relatives possibly meeting the criteria, I don’t see a reason to delay the distribution.”

  “What ceremony?” My lungs strained for air as much as they had been after my run.

  “Stand up and stay still,” Posey ordered. “And whatever you do, don’t move until we finish dancing.”

  “Dancing?” My eyebrows sprang up my face in surprise.

  Sure enough, Posey shook out a couple of napkins and Rosie pulled a pair of marching girl sticks out of her top drawer. With solemn faces, they began to chant in a strange language, then circled around me, following an intricate pattern of steps.

  “Are you… Morris dancing?” I cried out as a napkin fluttered near my face. “What is this?” They looked utterly ridiculous but also so serious that I kept my lips buttoned for the rest of the dance.

  “Phew. That’s over and we remembered all of it,” Posey said, high-fiving her sister. She turned to me. “We’ll talk more in the coming days about the rest of your inheritance. But for now, let’s go to your new house and get you settled.”

  It sounded like a great idea to me.

  Chapter Three

  A long sloping drive, bordered on either side by blooming camelia bushes, led us up to my new house. My new house. My head had already grown accustomed to the phrase, but the reality blew me away.

  In real life, the two-storey frame towered above my head and the bricks, coloured in a range from pink to dark orange, seemed like they’d stood for a hundred years and would remain standing long after my death. A large bay window to one side caught the afternoon sun and reflected it straight into my eyes. The dancing glow remained, making me blink repeatedly as we headed indoors.

  “It’s a wee bit musty,” Posey said in a note of apology. “The cleaners went through after Esmerelda died, but with this place catching the sun all day long, it doesn’t take much time to need a good stiff breeze to freshen up.”

  She walked through every room, throwing open each window and door she found. With a sigh, Rosie trailed along behind her, shutting half of them before they could encourage a tornado to form inside the house.

  “This is so… so…” I trailed off, turning in circles, open-mouthed. My mother would have conniptions seeing me lost for words. In fact…

  “You’ll never guess where I’m standing,” I said into the phone a moment later, courtesy of speed dial. When she didn’t even try, I squealed, “In my own house!”

  Although it was great to share my excitement, perhaps I should have waited a while longer. The number of questions fired at me would have had me reeling if I wasn’t already in that state.

  Most of all, the pointed, “Are you staying there?”

  In the wonder of becoming a house owner, my plan to return home to Nelson had slipped my mind. For some strange reason, I’d envisioned the house in the same street we’d lived when I was a child.

  Now, the reality hit home. “Gotta go,” I said with forced cheer. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Sharing the good news?” Posey said, having made a complete circuit, leaving no window unscathed.

  Rosie popped up by her side a few seconds later. “There you are. I thought you were following us on the tour.”

  “Sorry about that.” I tucked my phone away. “Can we do another walk through?”

  Posey clapped her hands together, beaming. “Yes. Whatever you want. After all, this is your home now. I’m the one who should ask permission to walk around inside.”

  A thrill of excitement struck my belly, and I gave a clap of glee. All thoughts of the future and where I was staying disappeared in the face of the unexpected windfall.

  The house was basic, and some furnishings were tatty, but to my eyes it sang with promise. Already, I could see the changes I’d make. Brighter curtains in the upstairs bedroom. Polishing the original kauri floors instead of covering them with a death trap of rugs with frayed edges.

  I hugged myself as we came downstairs again, this time with me leading the way. A striped ball of fluff reared up from the bottom step, making me lose my step and cling to the bannister for dear life.

  “Oh, that’s Muffin,” Posey called out. “She comes with the house.”

  The fluff resolved into a tabby kitten and I clicked my fingers. “Hey, there, Muffin. It’s nice to meet you.”

  With a mew, the kitten rubbed her neck against my bare ankles, her fur warm and welcoming.

  “Do you want something for afternoon tea?”

  The kitten sat back on her haunches and nodded so eagerly that I laughed. “It’s like she knows exactly what I’m saying!”

  “The trick of it is, can you understand her?” Rosie pushed by and picked the kitten up by her midriff, giving her a few pats before setting her on the floor again. “Do you have enough money to keep yourself going for the next few days? It’ll take that long to transfer the estate funds out of the holding account.”

  I tried not to think of my current credit card balance. When it came to my statements, the bank only ever used red ink.

  “Because if you don’t,” Posey said, moving past me to the kitchen, “Esmerelda kept a stack of spare cash on the top shelf in the pantry.”

  “Oh, thank goodness.” I watched wi
th gratitude as the woman balanced on a stepping stool and stretched as high as she could go. “Esmerelda was a lot taller than me,” Posey said with a pant as she snagged the jar and backed out of the small enclosure. “Here you go!”

  My eyes boggled at the amount stuffed inside the tiny container. “Thank you so much. For everything.” Tears welled.

  “No worries.” Posey blushed with pleasure while Rosie gave a stern nod. “You be sure to tell us if you need anything. Otherwise, we’ll just schedule a time to take you through the details of the estate. There’s another part of the inheritance to deal with, but it’ll have to wait a few days yet.”

  “And, here’s the keys,” Rosie said, pushing them into my hand. “There are so many on the ring, I haven’t quite worked out where all of them fit, but I’m sure you can sort that out.”

  “I’m sure I can.”

  As the twins turned to leave, I pulled them into a bearhug, which they reciprocated. When it ended, I wasn’t the only one with moist eyes.

  “Well,” I said to the kitten once they were gone. “I guess we need to get our snack sorted. Do you want to come with me to the supermarket?”

  The tabby mewed again, and I could have sworn she said yes.

  With my car halfway across town and disabled, I was left using my own steam power to get to the shops. Luckily, Posey had left some simple instructions behind, even writing left and right at the top of the page. If only maps came complete with the same, life would be a lot easier.

  “Do you mind going inside my jacket?” I asked the kitten, deciding it was easier to hide her away than ask a staff member if she was allowed. When I didn’t get a horrified denial, I accepted it as a yes and popped Muffin into an inside pocket. The kitten was so small, there was still room.

  “Now, I feel like something sweet and something salty and something cheesy and something crunchy,” I said as I put matching snack items into the basket. “And I presume you’d like something fishy and something chicken-y and maybe something out of every packet of mine if I’m wrong.”

  I also made a stop at an aisle with cheap packets of underwear, towels, and bedsheets on display.

  If only they sold jeans and t-shirts, I’d have been set for a week.

  With the basket fully laden, I made straight for the self-serve checkouts, only to discover they were card only machines. Forced to queue for a human being instead, I decided to kill time by making new friends.

  “Hi,” I said, tapping the shoulder of the woman in front of me. Long black hair cascaded down her back and she seemed close to my age, so she’d do. “My name’s Elisa, and I’m new in town. That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing.”

  The woman appeared startled at the introduction but quickly recovered, giving a nod as her hands were full. “Thanks, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Hazel Kingston. Whereabouts are you staying?”

  “127 Eastwick Street,” I said, the address rolling off my tongue like I’d always lived there. “How about you?”

  Hazel’s light blue eyes widened in shock. “You’re kidding! Esmerelda’s old place?”

  “That’s the one.” I laughed, unsure why she appeared so surprised. “Why? Is it haunted or something?”

  “Definitely, or something,” she said with a giggle. “But you’ll never believe this. I live right next door.”

  A fluffy head poked out from my jacket, taking a good look around before retreating.

  “Is it unkind to mention you seem to have a kitten growing out of your chest?” Hazel said, turning a moment later as the checkout assistant called her name.

  “Shh,” I whispered. “She’s a secret.”

  “Oh, Georgie won’t mind,” Hazel said, flapping her hand at the staff member. “Will you, Georgie?”

  The young man squinted through his thick-framed glasses, poking them back up his face when they slipped. “I’ll have you know, I mind very much if it’s against store policy,” he said in a loud voice, then leaned over the counter to whisper, “But only if there’s someone watching.” He pointed to a large window in an upstairs room.

  His grin was contagious. Aside from the glasses, Georgie had a round face and loads of tightly curled blond hair. All he needed was a bow and love-heart arrow to become a cherub.

  “Did you hear?” Hazel asked Georgie. “This is Elisa, and she’s moved in next door to me.”

  “To your parents, you mean,” Georgie said while he scanned her groceries. “Last time I spoke to you, the plan was still to move out the first moment you could.”

  Hazel rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. But since the unemployment rate is nearing thirty percent in Oakleaf, it’s not so easy.”

  “I heard Mrs McCutcheon’s looking for someone in her sewing store.”

  “To rub her back with liniment and fetch cups of tea? No thanks.”

  “What’s the name of the shop?” I butted in to ask. When Hazel stared at me in horror, I shrugged. “If I’m staying in town, I’ll need a job.”

  “It’s the ‘Sew and Sew’ on Pebbleton Square,” Georgie supplied. “And don’t listen to this one. She expects to be promoted to CEO in her first month and sulks if she isn’t.”

  “When I start my business, I’ll be the CEO from day one,” Hazel said, putting a hand on her hip. “Then I’ll make you refer to me as Chief Hazel and we’ll see who’s laughing.”

  Georgie had already finished up her cartful and started on mine, but instead of moving on, Hazel stood at the end of the line, helping him pack my stuff into bags.

  “What type of business?”

  “The type that only exists in daydreams,” Georgie said with a wink. “If I remember my economics classes correctly, you’re missing the step named ‘raising capital.’”

  Hazel ignored him, fixing her gaze on me instead. “A fashion store,” she said with an enthusiastic smile. “I’ve always loved putting together new ensembles, even if my sewing is atrocious. And despite what Georgie is implying, I have a lot of seed money saved.”

  “Well, if you need a hand in the shop, count me in,” I said, counting out the cash to pay. “I’d be terrible at serving customers but I’m a dab hand with a sewing machine.”

  We waved goodbye to Georgie, walking out of the supermarket in step and heading for home. “Why are you bad with customers?” Hazel asked. “I would’ve thought you were outgoing enough to be a hit.”

  “Oh, I’m extroverted all right. It’s just I have a strange flaw that gets me into trouble.”

  “What flaw?” When I didn’t answer immediately, Hazel nudged me in the ribs. “Come on! Out with it. You’ve already weaselled my secret ambitions out of me. It’s the least you can offer in return.”

  “It’s embarrassing.”

  “All the best secrets are.”

  “It’s the reason I get fired every couple of months.”

  Hazel laughed. “If you’re trying to convince me not to dredge this information out of you, you’re doing a terrible job.”

  I closed my eyes for a second, loving the press of heat against my chest where Muffin snuggled. From her rhythmic breathing, I guessed the kitten had fallen asleep. “I snore.”

  “Is that all? Who doesn’t?” Hazel kicked a pebble off the footpath, sounding disappointed. “Wait. Why does that get you fired?”

  “It happens when I’m awake,” I admitted, ducking my head to hide my crimson cheeks. “Whenever I get really bored, I snore with my eyes wide open.”

  “But…” She gave a snort of laughter. “Can’t you just… Not do that?”

  “It’s unconscious or subconscious or whatever the right word is. I’m not even aware it’s happening until a boss drags me into his office and tells me to get out.”

  “They can’t fire you over something as trivial as that!” Hazel’s eyes flared with colour. “Who do they think they are! There needs to be meetings and involvement with human resources and formal warnings and stuff.”

  “Not if you do it during the ninety-day grace period,” I said in a small v
oice. “And that’s all I can get these days with a track record as grim as mine. Once the three months are up, no company extends my contract. Sometimes they ask me to leave early, even though they’re still paying me.”

  “You should talk it over with your doctor,” Hazel said, still indignant. “I bet there’s some recognised phenomenon it fits into so they can allow you special treatment.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I bet there’s not. I’ve never heard of anyone else doing it, have you?”

  “No,” she admitted. “But I’ve led a very sheltered life, here in Oakleaf. We might stream shows over the internet, but it’s no replacement for first-hand experience.”

  We parted at my gate, with promises to go to lunch together the following day. After packing away the groceries from my shopping trip, I made up the bed with the new sheets, hung my new towels in the bathroom, and laid my new underwear out on the chair in the master bedroom.

  “Lovely,” I said to Muffin, who’d trailed me around the house while I completed all of that. “Now, I think I mentioned an afternoon snack.”

  The kitten mewed enthusiastically, rearing up on her hind legs to batter my calves forward when I slowed in the hallway. “How about you go downstairs ahead of me?” I suggested at the top of the stairs. “Neither of us will get fed if you keep that up.”

  She bounced down to the bottom, then waited, staring at me as I descended. Only when my foot hit the floor did Muffin spring into the kitchen to sit in front of the pantry.

  “You certainly know how things work around here.”

  After dishing up treats for both of us, we sat together on the couch as I flicked through the channels. Apart from snow, the options were limited. Never mind. I had a good book in my bag.

  Except it wasn’t. Giving up the hunt with a dismayed hiss, I realised it must be sitting on the passenger seat in my abandoned car. Speaking of which…