Twistchapel Witch Cozy Mystery Box Set: Books 1-4 plus Christmas Short Read online

  “Do humans really think angels look like this?” asked Bart, hopping up on one of the love seats and inspecting one of the statues. “It’s just a baby with wings. I wonder if that offends the actual ones.”

  “So, what brings you to my humble abode?” asked Maggie. “New adventures?”

  “This abode is not exactly humble…” said Bart.

  “Yes, I’m on a new adventure,” I smiled. “I was actually hoping you might be able to help me.”

  “Oh, how exciting!” said Maggie, holding her hands up and shaking them. “How can I be of assistance? I’d do anything to help!”

  “Perfect! Well, I have actually heard you used to work for a company called Thompson and Thompson Industries… is that true?”

  “Thompson and Thompson Industries,” said Maggie, leaning back and smiling up at the ceiling as she slipped back into the past. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. If it wasn’t for them, I’d not be where I am today.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I was a sales representative for them for many years,” she began. “I started there a few years after college. I didn’t have much success with the first few companies I worked at for various reasons. The product was poor, the management was awful, the list goes on. When I talked with the Thompson brothers for the first time, I knew it was a match made in heaven. They were some of the nicest people to work for, even if they were a bit strange.”

  “Strange?” I asked. “In what way?”

  “Not Darren so much as Travis. There was something in his mannerisms that always seemed a tad off. That’s part of what made their products so great, I believe. Travis was always so adamant that every part of the process was done exactly to specifications. If a chair’s seat wasn’t quite comfy enough, he would have them throw it out. It drove some people insane, but I always respected it.”

  “I remember there was a fire at their warehouse a long time ago,” I said. “That must have been scary.”

  “Oh, it was,” she nodded, closing her eyes.

  “You were there while it was on fire?” I asked.

  “No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t see the factory until the next day. All of my livelihood was tied with the company, and the loss of our manufacturing plant was terrible. It ultimately shut us down.”

  “You still seem to have done okay,” I mentioned, gesturing around the house.

  “Yes, I’ve managed. After the large insurance payout that the Thompson brothers received, they paid us all a very generous severance package. I’d also been saving for years. A sale rep’s pay is never that consistent, you know, so I always needed to keep a little something extra around for the dry spells.”

  “They received insurance money?” That didn’t really surprise me. What surprised me was that there was so much that they were able to pay their employees with the extra. Was it out of pity, or was it to keep them quiet?

  “Yes,” she nodded. “They both received a pretty penny for that. It was not that surprising that they would choose to not reopen afterward.”

  “Well, also because of the death.”

  “Oh, right,” said Maggie. “Poor Jenny Fairfox.”

  “Did you know her?” I asked.

  “Not really,” she shrugged. “She was new and I didn’t really interact with too many people that weren’t involved in my day to day tasks.”

  “Did you think it was strange at all how she died?” I asked.

  “It honestly never struck me as that strange. We had these horrible doors in the office part of the building that would lock when you closed them. I couldn’t tell you how many times I accidentally locked myself in.”

  “How would you get out?”

  “Well, the key of course.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be odd that she didn’t use her key as well, then?”

  “She must not have had a key,” said Maggie. “Such a pity. I never knew the woman very well, but she always seemed pleasant to me.”

  “Did all of the office workers have keys?” I asked.

  “Yes. In fact, follow me,” she said, getting up from her seat. I joined her as she walked briskly over to the cabinet in the back of the room. She rummaged around in a few of the drawers, until, pulling open the bottom left one, there was a golden key and a bright pink cell phone. Maggie grabbed the key and held it out to me. Grabbing hold of it, I examined the beautiful key. Even after years shut away in the drawer, it shone in the light without so much as a speck of dust. The letters TTI were engraved on the head of the key.

  “Shiny,” purred Bart. “Me likey.”

  “This is a really lovely key,” I said.

  “It really is,” agreed Maggie, taking the key back. “The Thompson brothers really went all out, even with the smallest of details.”

  I glanced down at the extremely pink phone. It was covered in large rhinestones, placed irregularly.

  “What’s this phone doing here?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry?” asked Maggie.

  I reached down and picked up the pink phone. It was a model from years back, and brought me back to my late high school days.

  “The wrong kind of shiny,” scoffed Bart. “Me no likey.”

  “Oh, this?” asked Maggie, gently taking the phone from me. She looked down at it with a sad smile. “This is my old work phone. I guess I’ve been holding on to it as a sort of memento from time back at Thompson and Thompson’s.”

  “Were they all pink and covered in rhinestones?” I asked. I tried to make it sound like I was being funny, but it really didn’t make sense. Unless Thompson and Thompson was a cover for a tween shop in the mall.

  “Of course not,” laughed Maggie. “Being one of their lead reps, I was able to pick out whatever phone I liked. I wanted something to help distinguish me from the rest of the pack.”

  “She definitely accomplished that,” mumbled Bart.

  “You must have really liked working there, to keep holding on to both of these,” I said.

  “If it wasn’t for that job, I wouldn’t be where I am today,” she said, gesturing around to her home. She walked over to her trashcan and dropped the phone inside. “Unfortunately, it is probably time to move on. No use in holding on to the past, as they say.”

  I needed to check out that phone, but it would look too obvious if I did it while she was standing here. I looked over Bart.

  “What?” asked Bart. “I haven’t said anything in a while.”

  Holding my hand out to my side, out of Maggie’s sight, I slowly pushed my hand away several times.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Did you have any more questions about my time with Thompson and Thompson Industries?” asked Maggie.

  “Was there anyone that you thought gained from the death of Jenny Fairfox?” I asked, continuing the motion while looking at Bart.

  “Isn’t that what Jenny’s ghost kept doing?” asked Bart. His eyes opened a bit further as realization dawned. “You want me to create a distraction.”

  “Hmm, that’s an interesting question,” said Maggie, thinking it over.

  I gave Bart the subtlest nod I could muster, and he scurried off.

  “I honestly don’t think Jenny’s death was anything more nefarious than an accident,” concluded Maggie. “But, if you absolutely want to look into someone’s background, I would have to recommend Travis Thompson.”

  “Because of the insurance money?” I asked.

  “Yes, and his oddities. It wouldn’t surprise me if he got on Jenny’s nerves, even though she was only there for a brief tim-”

  Crash.

  “What was that?” I asked, walking forward.

  “My statue!” yelped Maggie, rushing back to the other side of the room. Bart stood on top of an otherwise barren pedestal, tail flickering about in satisfaction.

  “Now I see why cats do that all the time,” he said. “It’s fun!”

  While Maggie was preoccupied, I hurried over to the trashcan and poc
keted the pink cell phone. I’d have to check this out later.

  “My poor angel!” said Maggie, on her hands and knees.

  “I’m so sorry!” I said, coming back to help her clean up the now shattered baby with wings.

  “Please, don’t worry about it,” said Maggie, shoeing me back. “I wouldn’t want you to knick yourself on a corner. I’ll have someone come in and clean up this mess, and put in a new one.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said, pulling out my own cell phone and checking the time. “You know, I should really get going. Thank you so much for your help today.”

  “No problem at all, my dear,” smiled Maggie, getting to her feet. “I’m not sure if this particular case will turn up anything for you, but I wish you all the best.”

  “I guess we’ll see,” I said, making my way to the front door. “I know it’s a long shot, but there’s something about it that just seems fishy to me.”

  “Please do keep me posted on how your investigation is going,” said Maggie, opening up the wooden door for me. “If there is anything else you need from me, or just want to run some ideas by me, I’m always just a phone call away.”

  “Absolutely,” I said, moving past her and through the door. “Thanks again for your help.”

  I walked back down to my car as Bart pranced beside me.

  “Did you get the phone?” he asked. “We make a pretty good team, huh?”

  “Is she still in the doorway?” I whispered.

  I saw him look back over his shoulder. “Yup. Kinda creepy, if I do say so myself.”

  I didn’t say anything else until we got into the car, waving goodbye to Maggie. The woman waved back, finally closing the door.

  “Why would she throw away the phone right after I pointed it out, if she purposefully held onto it for years?” I asked.

  “Maybe she had meant to throw it out a long time ago, and forgot it was there,” said Bart. “Do you really know everything that’s inside of your junk drawer right now?”

  I could’ve lied, but that wouldn’t have gotten my anywhere.

  “You know I don’t…”

  “Exactly. So why do you expect Maggie to?”

  “That’s fair.”

  “She also pointed out a lot of suspicious things about the Thompson brothers. Maybe they were involved. It’s also still possible that the fire was just accidental, and the ghost of Jenny is just confused.”

  “I don’t know. There could be something more here, but maybe not. What was up with her staring at me as we left, by the way? A bit odd.”

  “Zoey,” said Bart, looking up at me and shaking his head. “Everything in Twistchapel is a bit odd.”

  Chapter 7

  The next day, I sat in my office staring down at the rhinestone covered phone.

  “So it won’t turn on?” asked Bart.

  “No. I finally found the right charger for it, but it still won’t work.”

  “Do you think it’s just too old?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. I’ve never been terribly good with technology,” I admitted.

  “Maybe take it to a repair shop?”

  “I might,” I nodded. “I guess it couldn’t hur-”

  Knock knock.

  “Come in,” I said, putting the phone back in my pocket.

  The door opened and Jimmy Ralin walked in.

  “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something,” he said, looking around.

  “You’re not,” I said. “I was just looking over some numbers.”

  “Weird, it sounded like you were talking to somebody.”

  “Oh, I was probably talking out loud. I do that from time to time.”

  “Right, people say that.”

  “People say that?” I asked. I really needed to be careful about talking to Bart in public.

  “Yes. Eric, particularly,” said Jimmy, a little too eagerly.

  “It’s not a bad thing,” I laughed. For a brief second Jimmy looked disappointed. “I guess I’ve just been doing it more than I used to. Please, have a seat.”

  Jimmy came over and sat down on the couch where Bart was, causing the familiar to hiss and scurry over to the other side. I smiled at my employee, waiting for him to begin. He nervously picked at his finger and stared at the wall behind me.

  “Looks like you’ve still got that… interesting… flower wall paper going on,” he said nervously. “Really pretty.”

  “Yeah, I keep forgetting to try and paint over it,” I said.

  “Either way, a good decision,” he smiled. “You really have done a great job with your store. I really admire how great of a business owner you are.”

  “Ugh,” whined Bart. “I hate this kid. He’s just trying to butter you up.”

  “Thank you, Jimmy,” I smiled. Even though I knew Bart was right, it was nice to get some positive reinforcement from time to time. “So, is there something in particular I can help you with?”

  “Y-Yes,” said Jimmy, clearing his throat. “While I think you are a great owner, I’ve noticed that you’ve been missing a lot of work recently. N-Not that it isn’t okay! You’re the boss, so you can come and go as you please.”

  “You’re right,” I nodded. “I have been gone quite a bit, and it isn’t fair to you guys. What were you thinking?”

  Jimmy cleared his throat again. “I believe you should consider hiring a manager to help you watch over the store while you’re away. It doesn’t even have to be that high paying of a job, but I’m sure you’ll get some great applicants.”

  I tapped my fingers on my desk as I thought it over. It wasn’t a bad idea, and I had honestly thought about it before. I’d be able to get more done, both inside and outside of the Market, if I had someone helping me out. My main worry was someone would see me talking to myself on the cameras, or worse, accidentally casting a spell. I guess I could always just keep them from seeing the security camera footage.

  “That’s not a bad idea, Jimmy,” I said. “I’ll think about it and let you know what I decide.”

  “R-Really?” he stuttered, sitting up a little taller. “That’s all I’m saying, is to just think about it.”

  “In the mean time… are you good with computers and stuff?”

  “Computers and stuff?” he grinned. “Yup. I was in the school’s AV club!”

  “Perfect,” I said, bringing out the pink phone again. I placed it in front of him. “This phone has stopped working for some reason. I can’t even get it to start when I charge it. Could you try and get it to work again? That’d really help me out.”

  “Sure, I can try and take a look,” he said, picking it up and looking it over. “I didn’t really take you for being into this kind of design, but I’m really digging the, uh, rhinestones. Very artistically placed.”

  “He thinks it’s yours,” snickered Bart.

  “It’s not… you know what? Thanks,” I said. It wasn’t worth getting into it. If he thought it was my phone, he’d probably worker harder on it anyway.

  “No problem. I’ll let you know what I can make of it,” he said, getting up and heading for the door. “Let me know if you need to bounce ideas around for what responsibilities the manager should have!”

  “Will do,” I said with a smile.

  “You’re not actually considering hiring him as a manager, right?” asked Bart as the door closed.

  “I don’t know. He’s right, I have been gone a lot. Having a manager might not be a horrible idea.”

  Ring. Ring.

  I picked up the office phone. “This is Zoey at Foster’s Market, how can we help you today?”

  “Miss Foster, this is Charline, one of your cashiers.”

  “Yes, Charline, I know who you are,” I sighed. “How can I help you?”

  “A customer would like to talk to you if you have a minute.”

  “Sure, I’m on my way out,” I said, hanging up the phone. I looked down at all the work I still had left to do as I got up from my chair. “Even when I’m at work, it hardly seems lik
e I can get anything done.”

  I walked up to the cash registers to find a familiar old man talking with Charline.

  “Mr. Thompson,” I smiled, reaching out a hand to him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Travis, please,” he smiled shaking my hand gently. “I needed to pickup a few items and remembered running into you the other day, so I figured I'd come say hello. Once again, nothing but stellar service throughout the store.”

  “I’m happy to hear that,” I said.

  “Did you ever manage to find your boyfriend?” asked Travis.

  “My boyfriend?”

  “He’s probably talking about that detective,” said Charline. She turned to Travis. “He comes in here all the time, asking if Zoey’s around. On the off chance she is, he always says not to bother her, and just goes about his business. Some may find that sweet. Not me, mind you, but some.”

  “What?” I asked. Drake was asking about me?

  “I didn’t know the new detective had a ponytail,” said Travis.

  That’s right, I told him Mr. Ponytail was my boyfriend. Maybe I should stop lying…

  “He doesn’t,” said Charline suspiciously. “Miss Foster, are you stringing two different men along?”

  “No, it’s not like that,” I said. “I-”

  “Your total is $12.50, Mr. Thompson,” interrupted Charline. “I don’t want to rush you, but we can never know when another customer may come up and need my services. I hate to be a stickler, but it is only fair to the other, potential customers.”

  “My apologies, let me go ahead and pay,” he smiled, digging in his pocket for his wallet. As he pulled it out, his keys fell to the floor.

  “Allow me,” I said, bending down and picking up the keys. As I did so, I noticed a golden key marked with TTI on it.

  “What’s this key?” I tried to ask nonchalantly. “It’s very pretty.”

  “Oh, that one? It is, isn’t it,” he smiled. “I’ve kept it to remind me of the old factory. It stands for Thompson and Thompson Industries, a furniture company my brother and I started a long time ago.”