Miss Frost Solves A Cold Case: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 1)

by Kristen Painter

  “No problem. I’m happy to have the company.” She grabbed a Coke for herself out of the fridge, then joined me on the couch and turned on the TV to find the movie.

  The opening credits were rolling when someone knocked on her door. She hit pause and jumped up. “Pizza’s here!”

  I dug into my bra for a twenty. “Here.”

  She took it. “I’ll have change for you in a sec.” She paid the guy, took the pizzas and we were chowing down to the visual delights of Tom Hardy in harem pants in no time flat.

  I was about to reach for my third slice when a thought occurred to me. I picked up the remote and hit pause instead. I looked at Juniper. “The pizza guy came right to your door.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Juniper answered around a bite of king pie.

  “So he’s on the approved list?”

  “Yep.” She washed it down with a slug of Coke.

  “How many people are on the approved list?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  I hit play and took my third slice in hand. Looked like I had another trip to Toly’s office in my future.

  I got back to my apartment around nine, filled with pizza and thoroughly entertained by the handsome Mr. Hardy and Juniper’s stellar companionship. I also found myself a little saddened again, knowing that this was just a temporary situation.

  Which sucked. I liked this life. Working at the store was actually pretty fun when Toly wasn’t adding tasks to our to-do lists. Shocking, I know, but dealing with humans wasn’t the nightmare I’d anticipated. For the most part, they were really nice. Most of them were so jazzed about being in a place like Nocturne Falls that their happiness was borderline contagious. And putting the right toy into the hands of a child was magical. I could see what drove my uncle Kris. And why elves wanted to work at the stores. It was a good life.

  But the best part of this whole adventure was having a friend like Juniper. That was something I’d never really expected. Or experienced. Not even with Lark. Juniper was so undemanding. What you saw was what you got with Juniper. And what you got was good.

  I felt like I was on a vacation from my real life and I didn’t want it to end.

  But the snow in the globe was spinning, and my next moves were just ahead of me, bringing me closer to the end of this surprisingly fun trip.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hi. How was your pizza?”

  “Great. We watched a movie and hung out. It was a really nice evening.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I have some bad news. Well, no news, actually. There’s no file on Toly’s granddaughter.”

  “Then she never lived in the North Pole?”

  “Never. Toly’s son never returned to the NP after college. And so his daughter, Toly’s granddaughter, has always lived in the human world.”

  Interesting. Elves that never spent time in the North Pole tended to have very different perspectives on things. “If Toly’s son is her father, her last name would be Featherstone too.” I was assuming that she’d gone back to her maiden name after such a bad divorce.

  My dad nodded. “Should be. Why? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing, really. Just thinking out loud.” I yawned without meaning to. “Sorry about that.”

  He smiled. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”

  “I will. Thanks for the info.”

  “You’re welcome. Sorry I couldn’t help more.”

  We hung up. A minute later, I was on my laptop plugging Cookie Featherstone and bed & breakfast into the search bar.

  At last Google gave me something I could use. Her B&B was called the Gingerbread Inn, and according to the website, it was currently booked for the next couple of months. No vacancy was a good sign, so Juniper was right. The place must be doing okay.

  I still wanted to see it for myself. Thankfully, tomorrow was my day off. I could sleep in a little and make some headway on my mission. Hopefully. I stretched, tired and ready for bed. I needed to visit Toly’s office again to see if I could find that list of approved visitors, but I couldn’t risk it until the store was closed and I was sure he’d turned in.

  That meant at least eleven o’clock. Ugh. I didn’t think I could keep my eyes open that long. I compromised and set my phone alarm for midnight.

  I was in bed and asleep five minutes later.

  By twelve thirty-six, I’d hit the snooze four times. I finally made myself sit up. Groggy was an understatement. Fortunately, I’d slept in my black yoga pants and a black T-shirt to make my life easier. Go, me!

  I put on my boots and my black hoodie, grabbed my keys and my phone and went downstairs for a little breaking and entering.

  Toly’s office was messier than I remembered. Who could find anything in this clutter? I sat in his desk chair and started going through his drawers, which thankfully weren’t locked. Lots of files in the first one, but none marked Visitor List or anything like that. In fact, none of the labels made much sense at all.

  I brought my phone a little closer to shine more light on the files and tried to blink the sleepiness out of my brain. What on earth was Super Fun Snaps and Lobberball?

  I pulled a file and opened it and understood immediately. These were toy designs. Stuff he was actively working on, based on the dates next to the notes.

  That made sense given the mock-ups on his shelves and the pieces and parts littering every square inch of his desk.

  I wondered if he’d submitted any of them to the company, but since I’d never seen any of them on the shelves, I guessed not.

  I propped my elbows on his desk and rested my head in my hands. This wasn’t getting me any closer to finding the list of approved visitors. And if the pizza guy was approved, Jack the Ripper could probably get in. Not that pizza guys were dangerous. To the contrary. They were right up there with tooth fairies and my uncle.

  I sighed. The missing employees could have been abducted, for all I knew. Except for Franny Isler, who I was sure I’d seen living as a human. I was also sure I hadn’t seen an elven bracelet on her.

  So what did that mean?

  I had no freaking idea.

  The elevator chimed, and like the other night, the sound put me into a state of temporary panic. I shoved everything back into its proper place and hurried around the desk to see what I could through the pebbled glass window.

  Just like last time, it wasn’t the apartment elevator. Two forms stood silhouetted by the light coming out of the restricted elevator. One reminded me of the tall, slim figure I’d seen leaving before. That one looked like they had their hand on the shoulder of the second, shorter figure.

  The pair stepped onto the elevator. It seemed as if the taller one was guiding the shorter one in, but then again, I was looking through pebbled glass and then another clear glass window in the vestibule doors. The elevator closed and they were gone.

  I started back toward Toly’s desk. Nocturne Falls employees weren’t my business. Then a creeping suspicion stopped me, and I knew if I didn’t act on it, I’d always wonder.

  I slipped out of the office, took a few moments against the door to let my head come right. I knew just standing there that my gut had been dead on, but I walked over to the vestibule anyway, pushed through the vestibule doors and sniffed.

  Unless there was a Nocturne Falls employee who wore the same old-man aftershave as Owen, he’d been the short one getting on the elevator.

  Sleeping in would have been nice, but I woke up early, determined to make serious headway into why all those employees had quit and disappeared. How was I going to make this headway? Let’s just say I had a massive amount of next-level snooping to do.

  Starting with the Gingerbread Inn.

  The employees had begun leaving around the same time that Toly’s granddaughter’s divorce had happened. I believed it was very possible that the stress Toly had dealt with on her behalf had changed him. Maybe caused him to have bouts of moodiness that had scared off the employees. And despite Juniper telling me the inn wa
s doing better, I wanted to see for myself.

  The morning was cool and a little drizzly, but the gray weather suited me just fine. I pulled together the sort of outfit I hoped I disappeared in: black yoga pants, my hooded black sweatshirt and black running shoes.

  Being noticed while snooping wasn’t my goal.

  I stuck my phone, my keys and a twenty in my pocket, but no ID. Just in case. I had another gambit I could put into play too, but not just yet. And only if I really needed to. Removing my bracelet.

  I left the bikes behind in favor of walking, but I did grab an umbrella from the stand. That felt more inconspicuous than riding a bike in the drizzle. Plus, the umbrella gave me something to hide under. And if I had to, I could ditch it without feeling bad.

  Twenty minutes later, I stopped under a tree to check the nav on my phone. The rain had petered out, but it was still gray and gloomy. Two and a half blocks to go. I memorized the route, going with one that would take me around the property, and left the umbrella propped by the tree.

  When I got to the street, I slowed considerably. It was a cute house, sort of a modern Victorian that had extra gingerbread added to it to really sell the name. Even the colors, a toasty brown with trim in white, yellow and bright blue, made it look like its namesake. I could see why it would be popular.

  A man in a khaki jumpsuit was working in the yard. I wouldn’t have thought a gardener would pick a day like today to tend to his plants, but summer was right around the corner, and what did I know about that kind of stuff?

  He hauled a wheelbarrow full of trimmings to the curb, coming right past me. He looked at me and smiled. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” I stared at him, my stomach clenching hard. I knew that face. Sure, the hair color was different, and his ears weren’t pointed, but the man in front of me was as familiar as family at this point. “Will?”

  His smile held without the slightest waver. “Sorry, ma’am. I’m Travis.”

  Like hell he was. I checked his wrists, thankful his sleeves were pushed up. He wasn’t wearing an elven bracelet. “My apologies. You look like someone I know.”

  He nodded. “I get that sometimes. Have a good—”

  “Have you worked here long? I have friends coming into town, and I was wondering if it’s a nice place.”

  “Oh, sure, real nice place. But I don’t think there are any vacancies for a while. Lots of repeat customers.”

  I pressed him again. “You sound like you’ve been here awhile.”

  His gaze shifted, like he was trying to recall. “Almost three years, I guess.”

  Which was about how long ago he’d left Santa’s Workshop. “And you like it? The owner is nice?”

  “Yep. Ms. Frye—sorry, Featherstone, I always get that wrong, I mean, I know she’s divorced and all—anyway, she’s real good people.”

  Frye? The name punched me in the gut. “Thanks. I appreciate that. You have a good day.”

  “You too.” He went back to work.

  In a haze of thought, I walked to the next block and found a trolley bench to sit on. What were the chances that Cookie’s given name was Elena and she was the Elena Frye who owned Thrifty Maids? At the very least, they had to be related. This wasn’t that big of a town. Either way, add in that one of the store’s former employees was now working at the Gingerbread Inn and looking as human as Franny Isler, and something seriously stank.

  I had to get into the Gingerbread Inn and look around. Who cared if there was no vacancy? It was a business. Anyone could go in and inquire.

  What they did after they got inside, well, that was where I’d deviate. So long as I had the chance.

  But I couldn’t risk Cookie recognizing me as one of the store’s employees. After all, she’d walked right by me yesterday. There was no way she hadn’t seen me. Fortunately, my father had already told me she’d never spent a day in the NP in her life.

  Her loss, my gain. I tugged the sleeve of my hoody back and took off the silver bracelet masking my appearance. I felt the magic leaving me like a cool breeze zipping past. I checked myself in the reflection of my phone’s dark screen.

  Yep, Jayne Frost again. It was nice to see my real face after a week of being Lilibeth. Weird, but nice.

  I took a breath and tried to make a plan, but really how could I until I got inside and knew what sort of opportunity I was going to have?

  My heart raced as I walked back to the inn. Will was gone out of the front yard. That was good. I hustled up the steps and went inside.

  The place was surprisingly quiet for a B&B at full occupancy. Especially on a rainy day when the weather didn’t make walking around or sight-seeing high on most people’s lists. Not a soul in sight, but I could hear a television. Barely. It was turned down low. If someone was watching it, they had excellent hearing.

  Just inside the door was a small front desk. A tarnished brass bell sat on the desk, but I wasn’t about to ring it.

  Beside the bell, the desk held a registry, and on the wall behind it were pegs with numbers over top of them. For room keys, most likely. Except there were no keys. That supported the full occupancy, but where was everyone? In their rooms? That sounded boring. And unlikely.

  A hall led back from the foyer and there was a door at the end, but I started with the first room I came to, sticking my head in. It was a lounge. The TV that I’d heard was in there, playing a daytime game show. The lack of volume apparently didn’t matter, because the room was empty.

  The room on the other side of the hall was a dining room. A coffee and tea service was set up on the buffet. I snuck in and put my hand on the carafe. It was warm like it still had coffee in it. Maybe breakfast had been served, but there wasn’t an aroma of food in the air.

  A swinging door adjoined the dining room to another. I put my ear to it and heard nothing. I pushed it open slightly and peeked in. The kitchen. Also empty. A few bowls and side plates sat drying on a dish rack along with a handful of silverware. Not exactly the aftermath of dishes I would have expected for a B&B at full occupancy. I mean, it was called a bed and breakfast for a reason, right?

  Maybe Cookie skimped on that part. Maybe she just did continental and only put out coffee and pastries and a little cold cereal. But for a place with no vacancy and repeat visitors, you’d think there’d be a big spread.

  I went into the kitchen cautiously, governing the door behind me as it closed so as not to make any extra noise. Through the window over the sink, the backyard was visible beyond a screened porch. I could just make out the edge of a large shed. That might be where Will had gone.

  There were three more doors in the kitchen. One that went out to the porch, one that seemed positioned to lead into the main part of the house and matched up with the door I’d seen at the end of the hall, and another, smaller door on the side. Could be a pantry. Or the cook’s quarters?

  But didn’t the owner cook breakfast? Hmm. Maybe Cookie’s room then. Which meant I really needed to get in there.

  My heart didn’t agree as my pulse sped up a notch. I blew out a breath, trying to calm myself. I’d gotten this far.

  I tiptoed to the door and listened. Nothing. I tried the knob. Locked.

  Now I wanted in more than ever.

  I slipped in Saint Nick style.

  I patted the wall until I found a light switch, then flipped it on. Even with my spinning head, I could tell the room was tiny, like an old pantry that had been turned into an office. There was a narrow built-in desk with a closed laptop on it and a few stacks of papers and files. Two wire shelves ran from wall to wall, and both held toy prototypes.

  Did Toly work over here? That made no sense. Unless this was stuff he was doing outside of the company. That could be. Especially if he was trying to make extra money to help Cookie out.

  I poked through the files. One was marked Orders To Be Filled, another said Customers, and a third was simply labeled Underweb. What the heck that was I had zero idea, but other than the Customers file, none of them made
much sense. What orders did a B&B have to fill?

  But Toly might. If he was selling his own toys. Wasn’t that a conflict of interest? I grabbed a sheet of paper and held it up to the light.

  Same watermark. Toly was definitely working here. And whatever he was doing, he didn’t want anyone at the shop to know about it.

  With my heart still pounding, I pulled out my phone, flipped through the paperwork, and snapped pics of anything that looked vaguely important. I’d figure out if any of it actually was when I got back to my apartment because all I wanted now was out of here.

  The back door creaked open. I flipped the light off and froze. If that was Cookie and she was coming in here, I was trapped. There was no window, and no other way out.

  Was this Jacque’s vision of me in a dark room in danger? I held my breath and prayed that he might be wrong just once.

  Feet stomped, like someone knocking dirt off their shoes. Then more footsteps, thankfully receding. Maybe Will coming in from the shed. Whoever it was, it didn’t sound like they’d stayed in the kitchen.

  Enough was enough. I was getting out while I could. I went back under the door and stumbled out through the screened porch. The rain was back. I pulled my hood up as I passed an old pickup parked in front of the shed. It bore the Gingerbread Inn name and phone number on the side, which was about the only spot not dented.

  I kept going, crossing into the adjoining neighbor’s property. If anyone saw me, they’d probably report me for public drunkenness. I knew I was weaving, but there was no time to rest and let the dizziness pass.

  As soon as I was on the sidewalk, I slipped my bracelet back on, happy to hide behind Lilibeth’s face again.

  It took a good ten minutes for my heartrate and my head to return to normal. I wasn’t ready to go back to the apartment yet, though. The thought of being that close to Toly and whatever he was up to just didn’t sit well with me. What I needed was to think and the thing that helped me think best was sugar.