Snow Cold Case: A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery (The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series Book 1)

by M. Z. Andrews

  The rouged apples of Janet’s cheeks squished up into her eyes as she faked a smile. “She had a tendency to steal other people’s clients.”

  “Oh, I see. Did she ever steal any of your clients?”

  Janet lifted a shoulder and gave a smarmy grin. “I always got them back.”

  “Was anyone suspicious about the way that Felicia was killed?”

  “Not that I know of. I mean, I really didn’t ask a lot of questions or anything, so they might have been. You’d have to talk to her family or her fiancé.”

  Johanna nodded, she planned to! “Did you know her family or her fiancé?”

  “I never met any of her family. I only met the fiancé once. He stopped in here to take Felicia to lunch one afternoon. I think he and Felicia both had similar personalities.”

  “In what way?” asked Johanna.

  Janet made a face. “I don’t know. It was just a sense I got. He seemed just as work-oriented as she did.”

  “Do you know his name?”

  Janet thought about it for a second. “Mmm, pretty sure it was Mitchell.”

  “Is that a first name or a last name?”

  “First.”

  “Mitchell what?”

  Janet shook her head. “I honestly have no idea. Felicia just used to ramble on about Mitchell this and Mitchell that. That’s all I remember.” She thought about it for a second and then held up a finger. “I do remember that he worked for an architectural company or an engineering company nearby, but I couldn’t tell you which company.”

  Johanna smiled at her. “Okay, that might be helpful.”

  Janet furrowed her brows. “So what’s this all about? You found her wedding dress and what? You’re trying to put together the pieces of her life?”

  “I wish I knew what this was about.” Johanna sighed inwardly, wishing she had a better reason to tell Janet, but she didn’t. She wasn’t completely sure what she was doing. “There’s just something telling me I have to find out the truth about Felicia Marshall’s death.”

  9

  T he sun hung low in the western skyline by the time Whitley and Johanna returned home later that evening. It was hardly visible behind the grey, moisture-laden clouds enveloping the city. During the train ride home, the temperature had dropped another ten degrees, making it officially cold enough to snow, but a single snowflake had yet to fall.

  Esmerelda was sitting in front of the apartment door with a scowl on her face when the two women entered. “What part of not leaving me alone with the slobber king did you two not understand?” she demanded, her green eyes flashing. She stood up and spun around so the two women could see all sides of her matted fur. “Look at me! I’m wilted!”

  Whitley couldn’t help but giggle when she saw her sister dripping with doggy saliva.

  Johanna glanced over at Rocky, who sat quietly in a corner with his head drooped low between his shoulder blades. “Oh, Rocky, did the kitty get mad at you?” she asked him tenderly.

  He lifted his eyes slightly without moving his head and let out a little whine, but refused to make eye contact with Johanna.

  She pulled off her winter coat and rushed to his side to cuddle his head. “I’ve never seen Rocky so upset,” said Johanna, stroking his head sweetly. “Were you mean to him?”

  Esmerelda hopped up on the kitchen table. “Define mean?”

  “Did you yell at him?” Johanna’s heart twisted in her chest. The thought of someone being mean to her dog lit a fire inside her belly.

  Esmerelda tipped her head sideways. “Mmm. Define yell?”

  “Esmerelda! You cannot be mean to Rocky. Do you not remember our agreement? You promised not to be mean to him.”

  Esmerelda waved a paw in the air. “No, no. Rewind the tape. I promised not to call him a flea bag or a dufus. I didn’t say I wouldn’t be mean.”

  “Well, obviously that’s what I meant!” hollered Johanna. “Rocky is very tenderhearted. He doesn’t respond well to yelling.”

  Esmerelda sat back on her two hind legs and threw her front paws up in the air in a shrug as she cast a sideways glance over to Rocky, who still sat quietly. “I don’t know. Looks to me like he responded just fine to yelling. He hasn’t tried to lick me once since I yelled.”

  Johanna gave Whitley a sideways glance. “Can you talk to her?”

  Whitley sighed. “If you want Hanna to help us, no more yelling, Es.”

  Esmerelda rolled her eyes and put her front paws back down on the table. “Oh, fine. No more yelling. Can I have dinner now? I’m starving. You really do need to get some tuna fish or something. This all liquid diet is a killer.”

  Johanna groaned as she poured Esmerelda another saucer of milk and scooped Rocky out a bowlful of food. “Come here, Rocky. The mean kitty is going to leave you alone,” she promised.

  Rocky whined as he watched the cat lapping the milk in the kitchen. His bowl sat only a few feet away from her, but it was obvious he wasn’t coming anywhere near her. With her feet, Johanna scooted the bowl over to the front door. Rocky gave her a thankful “Woof!” before burying his head in his bowl.

  Johanna spun on her heel and padded over to her computer desk, where she slid into her comfy padded seat and put on her glasses. She opened her laptop, gave her touchpad a little click and waited for it to boot up.

  “Now, we need to see what we can find out on the internet about Felicia Marshall’s murder.”

  “You figured out her first name?” asked Esmerelda, lifting her head from her saucer of milk.

  “Yes,” said Whitley sadly. “We also found out she died six years ago.”

  Esmerelda sucked in her breath. “The dress belongs to a dead girl? How creepy is that?”

  “Essy, that’s mean!”

  “I wouldn’t call it creepy,” said Johanna, navigating her computer to the internet. “It’s worrisome. I feel like this mystery we’re supposed to solve is about figuring out who murdered her.”

  Esmerelda abandoned her bowl and raced into the living room. “Wait, she was murdered?”

  “We were told by some of the people at the realty office that it was a mugging gone wrong, so it’s my guess you two were sent here to figure out who killed her.” Johanna typed “Felicia Marshall mugging” into the search engine. She clicked on the first article that popped up and read the headline. “Missing Realtor, Felicia Marshall, Found Dead in Hudson River Park.”

  “Ugh, this just makes me so sad,” said Whitley as she fell onto the sofa.

  “It says Felicia Marshall was discovered by a homeless man in the Hudson River Park,” said Johanna, skimming the article. “Her jewelry and her purse, including her wallet, phone, and car keys, were all missing. Her car was discovered abandoned a few blocks away. She was shot twice, once in the stomach and once in the chest. The police ruled it a mugging gone bad, but no suspects were ever arrested.”

  “So she was shot during a mugging and we’re supposed to track down the mugger?” asked Esmerelda. “How in the world are we supposed to do that?”

  Johanna shook her head. She had no idea how they’d piece it together either. She straightened her glasses and clicked on another link.

  “I found her obituary. There’s a picture of her.” She pointed at the professional head shot of a beautiful, put-together woman with smooth shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, and narrow glasses in a grey suit. No doubt it was one that had graced a realty billboard or the side of a bus stop bench in her time.

  “She was beautiful,” whispered Whitley.

  “Yeah.” Johanna had to swallow hard to keep from crying. Having a face put to the name suddenly made it all real for her. This wasn’t just some puzzle that they were trying to solve now. This was an actual person who had been killed. The realization that that was the woman who had owned the dress and that that was the woman who hadn’t made it to her wedding tugged at her heart. Her own fiancé hadn’t made it to their wedding day either, and it had crushed her. So much so that she’d closed up her world a
nd buried herself in her career for the past decade.

  “Ohh,” Whitley cried, bursting into tears. “This is so sad!”

  “You didn’t even know her,” snapped Esmerelda, but Johanna could hear a little less sting in her words.

  “I didn’t have to know her!” Whitley bawled. “I have a heart!”

  Johanna shoved down her own pain. They didn’t need two blathering women in the apartment. She had to stiffen her resolve in order to focus on the facts of the case.

  “Girls, her parents were Gene and Dawn Marshall, and her fiancé was Mitchell Connelly.”

  Johanna typed both into the computer. After a little bit of clicking and scanning, she announced, “I found an address for a Gene and Dawn Marshall in Brooklyn. I’m pretty sure it’s her parents. But there are lots of Mitchell Connellys in this city. I have no idea which one would be him.”

  Whitley wiped her eyes on the sleeve of the long-sleeved UCHS t-shirt that she’d borrowed from Johanna and sat up. “Look up ‘Mitchell Connelly engineer’ or ‘Mitchell Connelly architect’! Janet said he worked for a company like that.”

  Johanna nodded at the good idea. She typed “Mitchell Connelly engineer” into the computer. A smile spread across her face. “I got a hit! There is a Mitchell Connelly, structural engineer for a company in Midtown. It has to be him!”

  “We’ve got to pay her parents and her fiancé a visit,” said Whitley.

  Johanna paused. The thought of having to face the people who had lost their daughter brought her right back to the nights she’d spent comforting James’s family after he’d been killed in the accident. It had been so painful that she wasn’t sure if she could relive that. She already felt awkward around people, never knowing what to say or how to act, but the fact that this particular one hit so close to home terrified her even more. “I—I don’t think I can…”

  “You don’t think you can what?” asked Esmerelda, giving her a look.

  “I don’t think I can meet her parents and her fiancé. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” said Esmerelda. “Unless you want to be stuck in that glass ball for the rest of your life.”

  Johanna’s stomach turned. She’d about had it with the snarky cat. She didn’t need the added pressure of a threat. “Just can it, Esmerelda. I’m tired of your attitude. Whitley and I really don’t need you to solve this mystery, you know. You’re just dead weight. I can easily return you to the antique store and you can just find someone else to feed you.”

  Esmerelda sucked in her breath indignantly. “Dead weight?! I’m not dead weight!”

  “You are dead weight. You’re mean to my dog. You’re rude to me and your sister. You haven’t contributed anything valuable to solving this mystery. Why do we even keep you around?”

  “Uh! Whitley, are you just going to stand around and let her talk to me like that?!” demanded Esmerelda.

  Whitley wrinkled her nose. “I hate to say it, but she has a point, Es. I’ve told you for years that you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.”

  “That’s, like, the dumbest saying ever. How am I supposed to know what that means?” she pouted. “I don’t even like honey or vinegar.”

  When Whitley and Johanna didn’t respond, Esmerelda leapt off the arm of the sofa and strutted off towards Johanna’s bedroom. “Whatever. I’ll just go to bed, then.”

  “You’re not sleeping on my bed,” Johanna hollered after her.

  Esmerelda just wagged her fluffy tail in the air. “Goodnight.”

  When she was gone, Whitley turned to look at Johanna. “Hanna, as much as I know you don’t want to go meet Felicia’s parents and her fiancé, I think we have to pay them a visit. We need to find out more about what happened the day of her wedding rehearsal.” Whitley glanced out at the darkened windows. “It’s already getting late, but I think we should go first thing in the morning.”

  Johanna sighed and glanced across the room at Rocky, who had curled up on his big square doggy bed in the corner. Even if she wanted to go, she couldn’t do it tomorrow. “I can’t tomorrow. I have plans.”

  “What plans?” hollered Esmerelda from the bedroom.

  “I thought you were going to bed,” Johanna hollered back.

  “What plans?” Esmerelda repeated.

  “Family plans. None of your business!” Johanna groaned. She still hadn’t gotten her sister’s mixer, and there was no way she was going to find one before the party.

  “Wait, you’re leaving?” asked Whitley, her thin voice raising an octave. “But we have so many things to figure out! We were finally getting somewhere!”

  Johanna shrugged. Her heart was heavy, and she suddenly wished she could just crawl up in a ball next to Rocky. “I’m sorry, but we’re having a Christmas party at my Dad’s house. I have to go.”

  “Oooh, I wanna go to a Christmas party!” said Whitley with bright eyes.

  In a flash, Esmerelda was back in the living room. She sprang up on top of Johanna’s desk and pointed a paw at the two women. “Listen. I was left alone with that nuisance to society all afternoon. I am not going to be left alone with him all day tomorrow too while you go and have fun at a Christmas party.”

  Johanna shrugged. “Then I’ll let you out and you can go find somewhere else to keep warm.”

  Esmerelda pawed her forehead.

  Whitley smiled excitedly. “I have a better idea! How about you take us all with you?”

  Johanna shook her head. “Oh no, I’m not taking Mean Cat and Invisible Girl to my dad’s. My sister will think I’ve gone mad. She already thinks I’m a little crazy.”

  “And she wouldn’t be wrong,” said Esmerelda under her breath.

  Johanna stared at the grumpy cat. “Isn’t there a meme somewhere that you need to go put your face on?”

  “I don’t know what that means, but I’m sure I take offense. Listen, unless you want to be stuck in a snow globe for the rest of your life, I suggest you keep us happy. My sister and I want to go to a Christmas party, so we’re going to a Christmas party.”

  Johanna grimaced. “Fine,” she sulked. “Come to my family’s Christmas party. But I’m telling you, it’s not going to be a fun time.”

  “Why not?” asked Whitley.

  Johanna rubbed her forehead. “Let’s just say my family has… issues.”

  “What kind of issues?”

  “You know, just the regular, annoyingly intrusive family stuff. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Esmerelda strutted past Whitley and Johanna towards Johanna’s bedroom, her tail batting the air. “Consider me warned. I’ll see you both in the morning. I need my beauty sleep now. I’ve got a party to attend tomorrow!”

  10

  Rocky fidgeted on the doorstep next to Johanna and yawned. His breath puffed out in front of him in a cloudy vapor mist. Around them, the small patches of grass were still a crispy white from the night’s frost.

  “Why’d we have to get here so early?” Esmerelda complained, laying her chin on Johanna’s shoulder. She’d whined so much about the freezing sidewalk on the way there that Johanna had been forced to pick her up and carry her for the rest of the trip.

  “You didn’t have to come,” Johanna whispered in her ear. Her cheeks still burned red from the train ride and the subsequent walk to her father’s house. And not just from the subfreezing temperatures, but also because she’d felt like an idiot the entire way with both Rocky and Esmerelda in tow.

  “Oh, but you positively begged us to come,” sighed Esmerelda. “And we couldn’t let you down.”

  “Very funny, Es. You’re lucky she even brought us at all,” her sister hissed from the step behind Johanna.

  “What she said,” agreed Johanna. Already stressing about the day ahead of her, she stared at the pine wreath in front of her and exhaled.

  The door in front of them burst open and a younger, taller blond version of Johanna popped out, wearing an apple-green apron with holly-red r
ickrack trim and an elf’s hat. “JoJo!” shouted the woman, throwing her arms around Johanna’s shoulders. “Dad! JoJo’s here!”

  “Hey, Mook,” said Johanna with a slow-moving smile. Her sister’s real name was Melissa, but Johanna had been only eighteen months old when her sister was born, and the name Melissa had been too difficult for her to say when she was a toddler. Mook was what had come out, and it had stuck. Both her mother and father had started calling her that, and she’d never shaken the childish moniker since. “I missed you.”

  “Oh Gawd, I missed you too,” she responded in her thick Jersey accent. She looked down at Rocky and threw her arms out wide. “Rockland Gable, give your Auntie Mook a hug!” she bellowed as he leapt up to put his enormous paws on either side of her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around her “nephew” while he lapped at her face excitedly.

  “Where’s my good boy?” called a male voice from inside the house, sending Rocky into a tizzy as he shot inside.

  With Rocky gone, Melissa finally cast her brown eyes to her sister. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you two been home lately?”

  Johanna smiled. She loved her family a lot, but sometimes, it was hard for her to come home. There were a lot of painful memories and a lot of loss associated with the Union City, New Jersey, row house she now stood in front of.

  “I’ve been busy. Books don’t write themselves, you know.”

  Melissa suddenly noticed the furry grey scarf draped over her sister’s shoulder. “Is that a cat?!” she demanded.

  “Oh,” said Johanna with a nervous smile. “Yeah, this is Esmerelda.”

  “You got a cat and didn’t tell me?” Her brazen voice carried into the house as her eyes narrowed on Johanna. “What’s going on with you?”

  “JoJo got a cat?” asked Denny Hughes now standing in the doorway. “Hey, pumpkin. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Dad.” Johanna smiled as her dad enveloped her in a bear-sized embrace.

  “So you did get a cat,” he said, giving Esmerelda’s fur a little tousle.

  “She named it Esmerelda,” Melissa chided.