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

by Susan Harper

  All of the centaurs turned toward the strange onocentaur. The boy crossed his arms. “I don’t know,” he grunted.

  “Sure you do, Eli,” the other older boy said. “Don’t be an ass.”

  All the other children laughed, and the onocentaur bucked up at the boy.

  “Okay!” Monica shouted. “That’s enough.”

  The laughter had attracted the attention of one of the adults a short distance off, and the man came trotting over. “Robert!” Monica called, recognizing the man. She was not particularly familiar with the nearby centaur clans, but Robert was unusually social for his kind. He frequented downtown Wysteria.

  “Monica, good to see you,” Robert said, bowing his head politely. “What’s all this ruckus?”

  Eli pointed a finger at the boy who had taunted him. “He said it again!”

  Robert glared at the older boy. “Go home,” he snarled, and the angry, fatherly tone chased the children off rather quickly. Only Eli remained.

  Eli looked rather upset, but he attempted to hide his hurt feelings with frustration by crossing his arms and pouting as though he was more angry than anything. “Why do you play with them if they’re going to pick on you like that?” Robert asked.

  Eli’s face turned a bright red. “They’re my friends.”

  “Eli, why don’t you go back home as well?” Robert suggested in a much friendlier tone than what he had used with the other children.

  Eli huffed and trotted off, but Monica could tell the child was still quite hurt. She watched curiously as the boy headed back toward the herding grounds, eventually heading up to one of the smaller homes at the edge of the woods. “He lives here with the centaurs?”

  “We have a handful of onocentaurs here. The onocentaurs are a bit…superstitious, very old ways of thinking compared to us. His ears, I’m sure you noticed that little birth defect. They consider it a bad omen and usually do not keep children like that. He was adopted by an older couple in my herd,” Robert explained.

  “That’s terrible!” Monica cried. “I didn’t realize.”

  “It’s less common now than when Eli was born. Most onocentaurs have become much more open-minded these days,” Robert said. “But don’t worry about Eli. He does well with his peers most days, but children can be cruel. For now, is there anything I can help you two with?’

  “We’re looking for an onocentaur named Max. He was at Dracula’s party,” Mona said.

  Robert smiled. “Yes, I know Max. Good man. Helped old Drac out of a bind once when his carriage steed died during a long travel. Max pulled his carriage—something most of us wouldn’t have done. It’s considered insulting to be treated as a horse, but he didn’t mind. I would have left Drac in a ditch, personally, and told him to fly home and return to gather his carriage later. Drac’s been real good to Max ever since.”

  “I don’t suppose you could point us in the right direction?” Monica asked. “We really need to speak to him.”

  “Of course,” Robert said, pointing toward the woods at the back of the herding grounds. “His herd is just beyond those woods.”

  “Thank you so much, Robert!” Monica exclaimed, and soon the sisters and their familiars were heading off on their brooms again.

  Monica had a bit of a sick feeling in her stomach when she thought about the young onocentaur, Eli. She really didn’t know much about the social relationships and traditions of centaurs and onocentaurs. She had learned a bit in her prep school during mystical creatures studies, but she had not specialized in the subject. “Could you imagine giving up your child because they’ve got funny-looking ears?” Monica questioned as she and her sister flew.

  “That’s not really our place to judge,” Mona insisted. “All mystics are different. The onocentaurs are just a bit more superstitious than your typical four-legged mystic.”

  Eventually, they were flying over a large herding ground. The homes here were much smaller and more rugged than what they had seen at the centaurs’ herding grounds. The homes of the onocentaurs resembled barns, and they had much more farmland. “Look! I see Max!” Mona called, pointing to a large field where an onocentaur was pulling a plow.

  The two of them landed rather abruptly, causing Max to jump in surprise. “Sorry,” Monica said as the man touched his chest as though he was having a heart attack. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Quite all right,” Max said, wiping his brow.

  Monica glanced toward the small homestead near Max’s farm, and she spied a woman onocentaur slowly making her way toward them. She walked as though she was quite uncomfortable, but as she came closer, Monica quickly saw why. Her donkey belly was hanging low; she was pregnant. “Max?” the woman asked, looking at Monica and Mona timidly. “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s fine,” Max assured her. He turned back to Monica and Mona. “Everything is all right, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, we were at Drac’s party the other night,” Monica explained. “Dracula is our uncle.”

  Max smiled brightly and unhooked himself from the plow. He stretched his back and headed closer to them, sticking out his hand to shake. “A pleasure,” he said. “Monica and Mona, am I right?”

  Mona smiled as well. “You know us?”

  “Drac talks about you girls all the time,” Max said.

  “So, you know our uncle fairly well, then?” Monica asked, and she could see the pregnant onocentaur relaxing a bit.

  “I helped him out once, and he’s returned the favor many times over,” Max said, his head suddenly jerked to the side. “Oi! Modestine! I’ve done told you to leave that snake alone! You’re gonna get bit!”

  Monica glanced around Max to see a girl onocentaur playing in the dirt. The onocentaur child laughed and ran over to Max and the pregnant woman. “Hello, there,” Monica said, smiling at the girl.

  “My daughter, named for her mother,” Max said, smiling at the girls. “Hoping for a colt this time around.” He winked in his wife’s direction, and the woman puffed up somewhat excitedly.

  “Would you like to know?” Mona asked. “I know a clever little charm that could tell you.”

  The woman, whose name was evidently Modestine, lit up excitedly. “Never had a witch offer to do nothin’ for me before,” she said. “What say you, Max?”

  Max grinned. “I don’t know… Do you want to know, dear?”

  “Yes!” the little girl cried, her hooves kicking up the dirt as she jumped excitedly.

  The woman laughed and agreed with her daughter’s sentiment, so Monica dug around in the dirt for a moment, eventually standing up with a bit of it in her palm. “It’s a silly little charm, really,” Monica said, taking Modestine’s hand and having her cup the dirt. “All you do is spit in the dirt, and I’ll do the charm. If it turns into a blue topaz, you will be having a girl, but if it becomes a gray chalcedony stone, then you will be having a boy.”

  “Oh, this is so exciting!” the woman said. She spit into the dirt, and Mona waved her wand over the woman’s hand.

  There was a quick flash of light. Each of them looked into Modenstine’s palm to see whether she was holding a blue or gray stone but were rather stumped to see a green emerald instead. “What…what does that mean?” the woman asked.

  “Oh!” Mona said. “Um… Well, emeralds are a fertility stone.”

  “And what does that mean? Are we having a boy or girl?” Max asked.

  “Well,” Mona said, trying to stifle a bit of laughter. “My best guess is that you’re having one of each.”

  Modestine cupped her hands over her mouth, and the little girl began giggling excitedly. “Twins!” Max exclaimed, and he seemed nearly nauseated from the excitement. He kissed his wife on the cheek, and he patted his daughter’s head. “My word, you ladies have made my day!”

  Modestine clapped. “I must tell my mother! Wait until she hears this story about a couple of witches coming to visit you and telling us this exciting news! Oh dear, I have so much more to do before t
hey get here now that I know we’re having two!” She kissed her husband’s cheek, and soon she was carting their daughter off to go run some sort of nursery-prep errand.

  Max laughed, a beaming smile on his face. “You two just made her very happy. Are you certain we are having twins?”

  “It’s a very easy charm,” Mona said. “Hard to mess up.”

  “She’s very skilled at charms,” Monica said. “As am I, and the message was very clear. Congratulations, Max.”

  He really did look incredibly proud by this bit of news. “So,” he said, drawing his attention from his wife and daughter, whom he had been watching as they walked off toward the homestead. “What is it you ladies wanted to ask me?”

  It seemed almost silly now after seeing this side of Max. It was hard to imagine him as any sort of killer. “We were wondering if you could tell us about your relationship with Penelope,” Monica said at last.

  “The witch who was murdered?” Max asked. “Can’t say that I know her particularly well, though she was not very kind to me that night at the party. The centaurs don’t mind having me around, but there are some who still think of us onocentaurs as lesser versions of our centaur brethren. It’s true that we are a bit more traditional and old-fashioned, but is a mere difference between a donkey and a horse really what bothers people? Honestly!” He rolled his eyes. “She made a rather cruel comment to me. Saying something along the lines of ‘it must feel good to be running in these circles for someone like you.’ Something like that. Making sure I knew that I didn’t belong with everyone else at that party. But Drac and I are friends. He invited me, and so I came. And the centaurs I accompanied were perfectly fine with me being there. We toasted to our herds together.”

  “I’m glad to hear the centaur and onocentaurs get along well,” Mona said.

  “It wasn’t always that way,” Max said. “But things are different now.”

  Max certainly didn’t seem like he had any sort of vendetta against Penelope over a few choice words. The sisters each seemed content on leaving it at that, but Monica couldn’t help but think of the poor onocentaur, Eli, they had met earlier. “Max, might I ask you something…a bit personal?” Monica began.

  “Certainly,” he said.

  “We stopped by the centaur herding grounds before coming here, and I met an onocentaur there. His name was Eli,” Monica said. “Robert, a centaur who lived there, told me that he was adopted by a couple in his herd…”

  “Eli, the little fellow with the donkey ears?” Max asked.

  “Yes, that’s the one…”

  “You’re concerned about him?” Max sighed. “Yes, I know the boy. I’ve met him a few times.”

  “I don’t mean to sound like I’m judging… I just want to understand,” Monica said. “Why someone would give their child up over…something like the shape of their ears.”

  “A perfectly viable question,” Max said. “Onocentaurs have always been viewed as second-class centaurs, my dear. Anything that brings attention to our donkey-halves has culturally been something to be ashamed of. That’s changed a good bit in recent days, but…not everyone has changed with the culture. Eli’s birth parents were...very traditional. Gave him up the moment he was born.”

  “Were?”

  “Yes, were,” Max sighed. “Lightning struck their barn about two years after Eli was born. Took the whole family out. Eli would probably have been dead with the rest of his biological family if he had remained with them. A lot of my fellow onocentaurs around here took the accident as an omen. That it was time for a cultural shift. You don’t hear of too many onocentaurs giving up their children over things like ears or buck teeth anymore.”

  “Thank you for answering my question,” Monica said.

  “Thank you for asking,” Max said. “Eli’s a good kid. He’ll be just fine. If there is anything else I can do for you ladies, please, let me know. I know Dracula is in some trouble, so anything that I can do to help, don’t be afraid to ask.”

  Monica and Mona thanked Max before mounting their brooms. The two of them headed back to Back Room Books, eager to check in with their aunt to see what had conspired since she had departed with Holly.

  8

  Monica excitedly rummaged through her closet that evening. Abigail was seated on her bed, completely uninterested in Monica as she sifted through her various outfits. “Can you at least pretend to care?” Monica asked as she pulled out a blue-and-white-striped top.

  “You look fat in stripes. There, I helped,” Abigail said, yawning and resting her head on her front paws.

  “You are so mean!” Monica huffed, but she put the shirt back in the closet. After having returned to the Bankstown side of Back Room Books, she had found her Aunt Wilma manning the shop as promised. She had been seated with Officer Brian of all people, the two of them sharing some coffee. Thankfully, Brian hadn’t noticed Monica magically appear within the closet very near to the coffee machines where they sat. The man had thought she had merely been out running some errands for the shop. He believed that Wilma was merely in town visiting, and the two were catching up.

  Then, in a manner oh-so-very typical of her aunt, she had told Brian to take Monica out on another date that evening because, “my niece deserves to be spoiled by a handsome fellow like you.” It had been rather embarrassing at the time, but Monica was glad Brian had excitedly agreed. It was about time the two of them went out again. They had not been out together since they had solved the murder of a local clown.

  Once the shop was closed and Monica had filled her aunt in on what all had conspired since they’d split up, Monica had rushed home to get ready for her outing with Brian. “Okay, how about this?” Monica asked, revealing a white lacy top.

  “Sure,” Abigail said without looking.

  Monica reached out and grabbed the top sheets of the bed, yanking them out from under Abigail and making her fall off the bed. “Come on, Abigail, you have to meet me halfway here. A witch’s familiar is supposed to be her best friend, her companion!”

  Abigail stretched her back before jumping back up on the bed. “I’m sorry you got stuck with me, but come on! I’m running low on steam here, Monica. I’ve been at this for over three hundred years now, and I’m on the tail-end of my sentence. I’ve been through a number of witches, and I’m positively burnt out. And I really hate it here. I don’t like being among mortals, and you drag me away from Wysteria to the dullest town you could have possibly imagined.”

  “All of that is your fault, you know?” Monica said, putting her hands on her hips. “You’re the one who got yourself into a mess with the Sorcerers’ Council for your misuse of magic on mortals. Can’t you try to make the best of it? It would probably make your sentence go by a little faster, you know?”

  Abigail grunted. “I suppose.”

  “Well, then, tell me what you really think,” Monica said and held up the top. “Nothing wrong with actually trying to be friends, right? We’re stuck with each other now.”

  Abigail sighed. “If it will get you to stop pestering me…” Abigail observed the lacy top with a bit of scrutiny then nodded with approval. “It would look good with a silver necklace.”

  “Thank you. See, was that so hard?” Monica asked as she changed. She looked at herself in her vanity mirror and went digging around her jewelry box for some silver jewelry. She then held her wand up to her head and cast a spell so that she wouldn’t have to worry too much about up-doing her hair. Her hair curled itself ever so slightly, and not a single strand was out of place. “Perfect,” she said, satisfied. “I’m supposed to meet Brian at the shop. Do you want to—”

  “I would really rather just stay here and sleep,” Abigail said. “I’m starting to feel more and more like a feline than a witch these days. I’m always eager for a nap.”

  Monica snickered. “If you say so. Don’t tear the house up while I’m gone.”

  Monica headed out. The town would be bustling quite a bit that night, so she elected to leave he
r broom behind. Last thing she needed was to be spotted zipping through the skies toward the bookshop. However, with anticipation for her date, the walk seemed to take twice as long as usual. She wound up having to do a spell on her nice shoes once she got to the shop as they had gotten a bit scraped up. “Maybe I should consider getting some sort of mortal vehicle…” she muttered to herself, but the idea of driving a car had her a bit on edge. She had driven Brian’s patrol car once, but the entire time she had white-knuckled the steering wheel and had no idea what the laws of the road were. She knew that to drive one of the mortal’s motor vehicles also required what they referred to as a license, and Monica was not so sure she was up to the task of obtaining one. She decided she would look into her options, but she was not going to decide on anything too concrete just yet.

  Brian pulled up in front of the shop in his off-duty vehicle, a beat-up old truck that he affectionately referred to as his baby on occasion. He hopped out and hurried over to her. He was dressed in a nice pair of jeans and a blue button-up, his hair was neatly combed and styled, and he had on the biggest grin she had ever seen as he hooked her arm into his and escorted her toward the passenger’s seat. “I’m surprised you agreed to go out on another date with me,” he admitted as he opened the door for her.

  “Well, if Aunt Wilma tells me to do something, I usually do it,” she joked as he started up the truck, driving away from the shop.

  He laughed. “Glad I have your aunt on my side, then,” he said. “So, when am I going to get the chance to give your twin sister a better first impression than being passed out in the bookshop after being knocked out by you and dragged across town?”

  Monica snickered. Poor Brian still believed that he had merely been in a peculiar mood, but really, Monica had mistakenly overdosed him on a confidence potion, setting off a string of events that eventually ended with him trying to make a move and her shoving him back. He’d hit his head on a coffee table, and Monica had had to drag him across town in his patrol car to the shop until the potion wore off. “I’m sure you will get to meet her eventually. Meet her again, that is. Though, I’m not sure if it counts if you’re unconscious.”