Back Room Bookstore Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1 - 12

by Susan Harper

  Mona and Monica looked frightfully alike apart from their hair and eyes. While Monica was a strawberry blonde with brightly-colored eyes, Mona had jet-black hair and a purplish tint to her dark eyes. Not to mention Mona was a fan of darker clothes, which made her look all the more witchy. She and her familiar, a black raven named Lenore, were getting their side of the shop ready and chasing the flying books back onto their proper shelves.

  “What’s up?” Mona asked, kicking a few harpies out of the building. Mona didn’t give Monica time to answer; Monica was sure she was reading her aura, something a powerful witch like her twin sister was rather good at. “What’s wrong?” she changed her question, throwing down the basket and hurrying over. “What’s troubling you?”

  “I just had a bad dream last night,” Monica said. “About Mom and Dad. I dreamed about the explosion. I haven’t dreamt about that since I was a kid. It was awful.”

  Mona’s face fell. “Monica, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I know the feeling. It gets me randomly sometimes too, you know?”

  “It was just so out of the blue,” Monica said. “I haven’t really thought much about it in years, probably. And it felt so real. Do you remember what potion they were working on?”

  “I have no idea,” Mona said. “I don’t think anyone found out exactly what it was. You know how Dad was. He was terrible about playing around with risky potion-work, and Mom wasn’t much better. They were experimentalists. When we were kids, I thought they were going to change the world with their potion-work. You take after them in that respect.”

  Monica smiled at her. “I just wish I knew more about what happened. I feel like the whole thing was just over and done with so quickly, you know?”

  “It was a brief investigation,” Mona said. “I feel like it was, at least. But their reputation for concocting unstable potions on the side was pretty well known.”

  “You don’t think… You don’t think they missed anything, do you?” Monica asked.

  “I doubt it, Monica,” Mona said. “It was just a bad dream, you know? I wouldn’t let yourself get too worked up over it.”

  “Except it wasn’t just a bad dream,” Monica said. “It really happened. I think I might go talk to Aunt Wilma and Uncle Drac.”

  “Don’t bother Aunt Wilma with that,” Mona said. “You’ll get her worked up about Dad.”

  “I’ll just bug Uncle Drac, then,” Monica said. “It doesn’t hit quite as close to home for him.”

  Mona rolled her eyes. “Fine, but you better not leave Holly alone to work her side of the shop all day again.”

  “I won’t,” Monica said, a bit offended. “I just… I need to look into this, okay?” Monica headed out, taking her broom with her. She flew her broomstick to the other side of town where Dracula’s castle resided on a mountainside. She landed in the gardens, where she had spotted him working with some rose bushes that had gotten overgrown. The sun was up, but this area of the garden was shaded enough for him to get an extra hour or so before having to retire inside.

  He smiled wildly when he saw her. “My girl!” he called as she approached, her broom thrown over her shoulder.

  “Hey, Uncle Drac,” she said, and the vampire gave her a large hug. “Garden is looking good.”

  “Tank you, my girl,” he said. “Vhat brings you here?”

  Monica sighed. She launched into a long story about the dream she had had—how she hadn’t thought much about her parents in a long time and how she was wondering what had brought it on all of a sudden. “It just got me wondering… Why did they close that case so quickly? I mean, they just wrote it off as Dad and Mom having an accident with one of their potions. I can’t help wondering if maybe there was something more going on?”

  Dracula’s face fell. “You should… You should go talk to Mueller.”

  Monica stared at him. Mueller was a warlock, and he was the Head Authority of Wysteria, similar to a police chief. “He wasn’t head authority then,” Monica said.

  “He vas the head detective on the case,” Dracula said. “I do not know if he knows anything, but he might vould be able to tell you more.”

  Monica felt as though he knew something but simply did not want to be the one to tell her, so she took his advice. She flew out to City Hall, where the authority office was. She had to wait around a bit as Mueller was out working a case, but he arrived within the hour, looking surprised to see her sitting outside his office. “Monica? To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.

  “I need to talk to you privately,” she said.

  He looked a bit concerned, but he nodded his approval and invited her into his office, where she settled down in a seat across from his desk. Mueller sat and gave her a friendly smile. “So, what can I help you with?”

  “I want to talk to you about an old case,” Monica said.

  “Which one would that be?” he asked.

  “My parents,” Monica said, and the man went a bit red in the face. “I didn’t think about the investigation when I was a kid. I thought the authorities were just working quickly. But now that I’m an adult and I have had experience working alongside law enforcement, I realize just how unrealistic it would be for that case to have been ruled an accident so quickly. I think you lot were calling it an accident before I even left the property. I know you were a new, up and coming detective when you were given the case. Can you tell me why the case was closed so quickly?”

  Mueller was staring at her. She could tell he was having some sort of inner dialogue. After a moment, he sighed and pulled out his wand. He tapped it on his desk twice. “Delila and Wilfred Montoya case file,” he said, and a moment later, the door flew open and an old file came zooming into the room, landing promptly on the desk. He flipped it open and stared at a page for a moment. He sighed and turned it to face her.

  Monica leaned forward. She jumped for a moment when she realized he was showing her a picture, worried for a moment he was about to bombard her with pictures of her parents after being blown up, but that was not the case. It was of the crime scene—what was left of their home. A single wall with a very obvious Cinur symbol painted above the fireplace. Monica blinked several times; she had never seen this picture before. “That’s a Cinur symbol,” Monica said flatly, referring to the hidden codes used by the terrorist group Remembrance that had only come back in the past year or two.

  “Yes,” he said. “Nearly ten years before Remembrance started to resurface. I was heading the case, and the head authority at the time gave me the order to rule this as an accident and to drop the case. I wrongly assumed they were putting more experienced detectives on the case to work it off the books, but in reality, they were just trying to stop panic from breaking out. They didn’t want Remembrance to gain any traction for what they believed to be an isolated incident—a single person trying to make a statement. They were worried if it got out, it might encourage other people of like minds to reach out to one another. Afraid it would encourage more attacks.”

  “So you just… You just dropped the case? Lied? Said it was an accident?” Monica demanded.

  “I was young and stupid,” Mueller said. “But now it doesn’t matter, does it? Remembrance is back. They flourished anyways. I’m sorry.”

  “My parent’s murder was covered up, and all you have to say is sorry?” Monica asked.

  Mueller shifted uncomfortably, and she could tell he felt bad. “You can take the case file if you’d like. But the trail is cold. Has been for years. I would know.”

  “How would you know that?” she asked.

  “Because as soon as I became head authority five years ago, I reopened cases like this,” he said. “Because I knew it was wrong. Because I knew you deserved answers. But when I wasn’t able to find out the truth, I thought… Well…”

  “You thought you would keep your mouth shut and let me just go on believing my parents accidentally blew themselves up,” Monica said, shaking her head. She sighed. “I’ll take the case file. Not sure what good it w
ill do now, but I’d still like to see what you found.” She took the file and stood up, ready to storm out.

  “Monica,” Mueller said, and she spun around and glared at him. “I really am sorry.”

  3

  The day had finally arrived for Monica and her friends to head off for the Romp-A-Roo finals. She could hardly contain her excitement, and though the game was four days out, the team was expected to attend conferences, photoshoots, and interviews. With them was of course Holly, Isaac, Abigail, and Mona along with the Wysteria Werewolves team.

  Coach Joanne-Jo, the sprite, had obtained a very stylish flying ship for their travels. Wysteria’s mayor had wanted them arriving in style and had paid for the extravagant ship himself after she had made the recommendation. She was currently fluttering about the deck, chattering with the team about behavior she expected from each of them when they reached their destination. Deimus, Mona’s boyfriend and team captain, was just as stressed and was repeatedly going over etiquette with Urrgah, the enormous troll who had joined the team during the same tryout season as Brian.

  “I really don’t think you need to worry so much about Urrgah as you do Bolt,” Gale, the team’s goalie and a female werewolf, was saying. Ida, the other female werewolf on the team, snickered.

  “Oh, shut up, Gale,” Bolt said. He was looking particularly hairy this evening. It was getting close to the full moon, which always put Bolt, Gale, and Ida a bit on edge. Joanne-Jo highly suspected the date of the finals was intentional. There was a lot more riding on this game than a mere victory. The Wysteria Werewolves were the most diverse team in the league; they were unlike anything anyone had ever seen in a game originally played strictly by witches and wizards.

  In addition to having a troll, three werewolves, and a mortal on the team, they also had Clowdia, a selkie woman; Trixie, a female dwarf; and finally Rosemary, the team’s only witch, who was laughing at Bolt as well but ultimately came to his aid. “He’ll be fine, you guys,” Rosemary said. “You know Coach has been drilling him about public speaking.”

  “Why is everyone assuming I’m the one who is going to embarrass us?” Bolt asked just as he started rapidly scratching the side of his head, very much like a dog scratching its neck with its hind leg.

  “I can’t imagine,” Clowdia said, and Urrgah laughed and clapped happily at Bolt’s expense.

  The team they were playing in the finals was none other than the Norbury Nymphs. Norbury was a border town with the mortal city of London, and the Nymphs were one of the oldest and most renowned Romp-A-Roo teams in the league. The team was made up entirely of witches and wizards, and they had a seven-year winning streak for the international title that the Wysteria Werewolves were going to attempt to snatch away that upcoming weekend.

  “We will arrive in Norbury at four this afternoon,” Coach Joanne-Jo was saying. “I expect everyone back in your dress robes because we will be heading straight from the ship to the gala when we arrive, so that being said, all of you head down to the bunks and rest! I do not want any of you slouching or looking sloppy this evening!”

  Not daring to disobey the coach, everyone gradually made their way down to the ship’s bunks for an afternoon of R&R. Monica found herself seated with Brian, Mona, and Deimus by one of the lounge chairs in front of a roaring fire. Isaac, who had been staring at the fire in amusement at how the room looked like the inside of a cabin, had just followed Holly and Abigail off to check out some of the accommodations the ship had for their enjoyment. “Your aura is off again,” Mona said to Monica as she cuddled up to Deimus.

  “She’s been off for a couple of days now,” Brian said. “You want to tell us what’s going on?”

  Monica muttered to herself for a moment, but they drew it out of her. She told them everything she had learned from Mueller about how Remembrance, or at least a fan of Remembrance, had likely been responsible for the deaths of hers and Mona’s parents. Mona sat frozen, hardly able to break eye contact with Monica for several minutes. “It wasn’t… It wasn’t an accident?”

  “I should report this,” Brian said. “When we get back to Wysteria, Mueller and whoever was his superior officer at the time should—”

  “No,” Monica said. “Mueller is one of the best head authorities Wysteria has ever had. He was a rookie detective trying not to lose his job. And that geezer who made him cover the whole thing up is long gone. There’s no sense in it, and he was honest with me when I showed up asking questions. I hardly had to prod him at all. I can tell he’s felt guilty over the whole thing.”

  “As well he should,” Deimus said. “What are you going to do?”

  “We’re going to find out who killed our parents, that’s what!” Mona snapped.

  “Mona… The case is nearly two decades old,” Monica said. “And Mueller suspects it was just some punk who was obsessed with Remembrance and not so much an actual member of the cult.”

  “He doesn’t know that though, does he?” Mona snapped. “He would have if he had done his job and looked into it! A Remembrance member or just a Remembrance wannabe, what does it matter? Our parents were killed!”

  Monica heard a gasp from behind, and she spun around on the little sofa she and Brian had been cuddled up on to see that Abigail had returned to the lounge. She looked distraught. “Your parents are dead because of me,” Abigail said, and both Monica and Mona sat upright.

  “What are you talking about?” Monica asked.

  “I founded Remembrance with Morganna!” Abigail cried. “If it wasn’t for that stupid group…maybe they wouldn’t… Someone really killed them? They left Cinur symbols at the crime scene?”

  “Abigail, come here!” Monica demanded, and Abigail made her way around the sofa, wiping her eyes. “Abs, that’s not your fault, do you hear me? You were just a kid, and Morganna took advantage of you. What happened to mine and Mona’s parents has nothing to do with you.”

  They elected to drop the conversation for Abigail’s sake. She was still trying to get a grip on the emotions that came with suddenly becoming a twelve-year-old girl. Instead, they elected to take Coach Joanne-Jo’s advice and rest until they arrived in Norbury. Time went by quicker than expected, and the next thing Monica knew, she was getting dolled up in a nice black and purple dress and having Mona use a bit of her wand-work to curl and style her hair. It was time for the Romp-A-Roo gala.

  Monica and Brian walked arm-in-arm, Abigail jumping around excitedly in front of them. The gala was taking place in the grand ballroom of a large, elegant hotel. Inside were all sorts of famous mystics Monica never thought she would ever get to meet. She whispered to Brian, pointing out different celebrities she knew he would be completely oblivious to as a mortal. “Sonya the Sorceress, one of the world’s leading potions experts,” Monica said excitedly. “Over there is Roderick Rosenheim, he’s a retired Romp-A-Roo player. I think he’s doing commentary for the game…”

  “Well, well!” a voice boomed nearby. A handsome wizard came sauntering up to them dressed in fine black dress robes with silver cufflinks. “I was wondering when you lot were going to make it to the party.”

  Deimus stepped forward, his face very serious. “Oldar, am I right?” Deimus asked.

  “Oldar is the team captain of the home team,” Mona whispered to Monica and Brian.

  “That’s right,” Oldar said, and Monica waited somewhat excitedly to see how this interaction would go down. Much to her pleasure, he stuck his hand out for Deimus to shake. “Excited to be taking you lot on in the finals,” Oldar said. “Hold on, mate, let me rally the troops.” Oldar turned and began to wave frantically toward a table of witches and wizards who were dressed nearly identically to him, the ladies in matching black dresses and silver jewelry.

  The opposing team made their way over, all looking quite excited to meet them. The Werewolves team had on looks of relief that the opposing team was being so friendly; they had experienced a bit too much prejudice thus far in the league from teams who didn’t like the idea of non-
wizards playing the game. Gale, feeling bold thanks to the kind reception, asked, “So, which of you boys is goalie?” she asked. The team had one more wizard than witch, and Romp-A-Roo required an even number of female and male players plus a goalie.

  The tallest of the men grunted. He had been standing a bit back from the others and had hardly uttered a word. He seemed to be sizing Gale up now, and he did not look impressed. Gale, though, didn’t seem to notice. The music had started, so she held out a hand. “How about a dance? Did I hear Oldar say your name was…Krulin?”

  “I don’t dance,” he retorted, eyeing her hand like it was harboring something infectious.

  “Ignore Krulin,” one of the female players said. “He’s…old-fashioned.”

  Gale’s cheeks went red. Brian cleared his throat. “And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

  “Ignore what I said,” the witch insisted and then offered a hand to Bolt. “I wouldn’t mind a dance. Come on, the press is here. They’ll eat it up.”

  Bolt smiled wildly. “Of course…er…”

  “My name is Udali,” she said, and it instantly became quite clear to everyone on the Werewolf side just how pretty she was. She had gorgeous, ginger hair that fell past her shoulders, her backless dress showing off her perfect figure, and her eyes were painted a dark shade that made her seem somehow more mystical than any other witch in the room. Bolt was obviously pleased with himself to have been asked to dance with her.

  Oldar cleared his throat. “Gale, I’d be happy to dance with you,” he said, clearly wanting to keep the peace after Krulin’s refusal. She smiled and went with him onto the dance floor.

  “Come on, Deimus,” Mona said, dragging him off. The other members of the team partnered off with some of the Norbury Nymph players, and Monica went with Brian. She grinned to see that Isaac had gotten himself a dance with Holly; their relationship was still fairly new despite their more or less lifelong friendship.

  As Brian was swirling her around, she caught a glimpse of Krulin dancing with Rosemary, who looked a bit uncomfortable. The song ended, and most of the team started making their way over to their table. “Are you all right?” Brian asked Rosemary, evidently also having noticed how uncomfortable she had looked dancing with Krulin.