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

by Susan Harper

  It felt like an eternity before the paramedics arrived, and they continued to try to revive Jeremiah. The actors from the show as well as the director and a number of stagehands were all standing far up stage, many sobbing violently and others with their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open. “This is bad,” Monica whispered. “This is so bad.”

  The next thing Monica knew, the paramedics were covering Jeremiah with a tarp and calling for a coroner. “He’s dead,” Holly said breathlessly. “We just witnessed an accidental hanging… I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Glad I was on the floor during that last scene,” Abigail said. She had crawled up under Monica’s feet during the last scene to take a nap, unwilling to sit through much more of the performances that she claimed to be a mockery of her life. “Can’t say that I would have wanted to see that.”

  “This is terrible,” Monica said.

  Other officers arrived and were quick to escort everyone from the audience into the lobby. Some officers remained behind to keep the crowd calm until they could assess the situation. Monica stood in a corner with Holly, Abigail tucked away in her satchel and mumbling the entire time. “I told you we shouldn’t have come,” Abigail muttered. “I told you, and now we’re going to be stuck here all night while cops interview and interrogate people.”

  “It wasn’t a murder, Abigail,” Monica said. “We’ll probably be here an hour tops, okay? It was just a terrible accident. Jeremiah probably slipped off the stand. It was a terrible decision by the director and set design, really.”

  “This wasn’t my fault! This wasn’t my fault!” a voice wailed, and Monica spun around in time to see a couple of officers escorting the show’s director through the lobby. The director was a short, slightly stout woman with enormous red, curly hair.

  “Chill, lady, we’re just taking you in for questioning,” one of the officers said.

  The woman looked pale as the officers gently pushed her through the lobby and out of the building. “What was that about?” Holly asked. “Why are they taking in the show’s director?”

  “I don’t know,” Monica said. “But I’m going to find out.” She passed her bag and Abigail off to Holly before slipping out of the lobby and back into the auditorium. She was almost immediately stopped by another officer.

  “Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” the man asked and held out his hand to stop her from going any further.

  “It’s all right, McInnis, she’s with me,” Brian called and waved Monica over.

  “Thanks for that,” Monica said as she came and stood by Brian in front of the stage.

  “Of course,” he said. “But you really shouldn’t be coming in here. What’s up?”

  “Why are they taking the show’s director away?” Monica asked. “She’s not being arrested, is she? This was just an accident, right?”

  “That’s what it looks like right now, but the chief told us to bring her in for questioning. She may be charged with negligence related to this case,” Brian said. “As director, she was the one who wanted an actual noose on stage and wanted to have our deceased put in danger just to give it a more authentic feel. The actual script doesn’t even call for a noose. The final scene takes place inside someone’s house, and Proctor is supposed to leave the house to go to his hanging, but the director decided to add it in for dramatic flair. The whole idea was very dangerous.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t think he would have gotten hurt,” Monica said.

  “I’m sure it was a mistake,” Brian assured her. “But that doesn’t change the fact that a terrible decision has resulted in someone’s death tonight. He was just following her directing.” Brian glanced back toward the stage where some of the actors were still standing. The body had already been moved and was on its way to the local morgue. “The acting troop is pretty shaken up by this. They must have all been pretty close, and they were all livid about us taking the director down to the station. She hasn’t been arrested yet, but I’m sure this is going to turn into a gross negligence case.”

  “Well, that’s just awful,” Monica said. “I saw the director run out on stage when you pulled him down. She looked horrified by the whole thing.”

  “Yes, she’s very upset about Jeremiah,” Brian agreed. “But she should have thought this through a lot better. I mean, a noose! Seriously? And turning the lights off with a guy’s hands bound too… It was just a terrible idea all the way around. I’m sorry you had to see all of that, Monica. It was a rough display, I know. Why don’t you head on out to the lobby? I’m sure we’re going to be releasing people very soon.”

  Monica nodded and followed his instructions, meeting up with Holly and Abigail again. She had only returned for a few minutes when the police were at last releasing the audience members back out into the streets. Monica and Holly hurried quickly to Holly’s car, and they eagerly escaped the crowded parking lot. “Well, that was certainly a night I wouldn’t mind forgetting,” Holly said. “What did Brian tell you when you went to talk to him?”

  “That the director was probably going to get a gross negligence charge for having her actor put a noose around his neck,” Monica said.

  “Oh no!” Holly exclaimed. “Well, it was a pretty bad idea of hers. But that’s just awful. I’m sure she didn’t mean for anything like this to happen.”

  “Well, I told you two we shouldn’t have gone,” Abigail said.

  “Shut up, Abs,” Monica said. “It would have been an enjoyable night had Jeremiah not have gotten hurt. You’re just grouchy.”

  “Oh, boohoo. Abigail is so awful!” Abigail groaned. “She is such a Debbie Downer because she didn’t want to go see a play that reminds her of the worst period of her life! Boohoo! I’m just so awful, aren’t I? Just terrible, terrible, grumpy old Abigail.”

  Monica rolled her eyes. “Abs, like I’ve said before, everything that has happened to you was your own fault. You got people killed, and now you are suffering the consequences.”

  “I was twelve!” Abigail exclaimed. “Twelve years old, ladies! And I got a several centuries’ long sentence. Tell me how that is fair. I was alone and trying to avoid a bunch of crazy people coming after me. Do you have any idea what it was like growing up in Salem, Massachusetts as a witch during that time? Women weren’t even supposed to make eye contact with men in public lest they be accused of witchcraft. And that was mortals! Imagine being an actual witch! And I was an orphan!”

  “You’ve told me before you did it for fun,” Monica scorned. “Don’t you come at me with the sad little orphan card.”

  “Of course, some of it was for fun,” Abigail said. “But that town was just so boring! Do you have any idea how long Sunday sermons lasted back then? Hours of just staring blankly ahead trying not to make eye contact with anyone. And all we did was work! And I was living with my uncle, the mortal preacher who didn’t know his little niece was a witch! Could you imagine if I tried to get out of going to service? No, definitely not. The strictest house in Salem, I tell you!”

  Holly shook her head as she pulled down the street. “Okay, Abigail, we won’t take you to any more showings of the Crucible, all right? You are such a whiner.”

  “You would be too if you were forced to spend your days as a cat, completely stripped of the thing that makes you who you are—your magic!” Abigail complained.

  “Give it a rest,” Monica said. “I’m just glad that tonight is over. I’m ready to go home and get some sleep.”

  “Me too,” Holly said, and before too long, they were pulling up in front of Monica and Abigail’s cottage. “I’ll see you two in the morning.”

  “Thanks for the night out,” Monica said as she and Abigail unloaded from the car. Monica watched Holly drive off before she and her familiar headed inside. “You really were quite a bummer tonight,” Monica said, closing the front door behind her.

  Abigail hopped up on Monica’s couch. “I told you I didn’t want to go, but you two dragged me there anyway.”

&nbs
p; “I know you went through a lot, Abs,” Monica said. “I get it. You lost your parents and wound up living in the middle of one of the most anti-witch towns ever. It doesn’t really excuse what you did, but still… I can sympathize. But you’re here now. You’re my familiar. Why don’t you try to make the best of it for once instead of acting like a little twerp?”

  “Twerp? Really?” Abigail asked. She huffed and curled up on the couch. “You just don’t get it. Not really.”

  Monica sighed. “I guess not. Well, I’m going to bed. I’ll just see you in the morning. You sure you want to sleep on the couch again? You know you can sleep at the foot of my bed.”

  “I’m fine,” Abigail grunted. “You know I’m not a cuddly little familiar, Monica.”

  Monica shook her head and headed back to her bedroom, eager for the day to finally be over.

  4

  Monica and Holly arrived at the shop around the same time the following morning. Abigail was in a much better mood, and she quickly located her hiding spot in the reading loft to take her mid-morning catnap. Holly went right to work on getting the coffee machines up and running while Monica sifted through the classics section to pick out her next read of mortal literature. She had decided to try to rummage through as many of the classics as possible as a good way of introducing herself to what mortals enjoyed reading. If she was going to be working the mortal side of Backroom Books, she was going to need to know more about her clientele. Learning what they considered great works of classical literature was a good place to start. She had already read Dracula, a story based on her Uncle Drac, but she had found it to be an extreme exaggeration of facts, so this time around, she was trying to avoid anything that might be based off the world of the mystics.

  While Monica was trying to decide between Peter Pan and The Sound and the Fury, the front door opened. It was Officer Brian, right on time for his morning coffee. He came dragging his feet into the shop looking as though he had had a long night after the two ladies had departed from the theater. “You look like you need an extra espresso shot in your coffee this morning,” Monica said as she went and stood by the coffee station.

  “Yes, please,” he groaned.

  “Everything all right?” Monica asked as she got to work on his drink.

  “Not really,” he said. “We took the show’s director in last night for questioning, and she tried telling us that the gallows had been made of a soft plastic material painted to look like wood. That way, if Jeremiah had tripped or something along those lines, the whole thing would have just broken and fallen down. She swears up and down that she didn’t put Jeremiah in any danger. But when I went to look at the actual gallows that were used, it was made of wood. Talked to several members of the set crew, and they confirmed the director’s story. So, that means the prop was replaced with something sturdier. I was prone to believe they were just trying to protect the director at first, but we found the plastic set piece out in the dumpster behind the theater.”

  “Wait… So, someone replaced the set piece with something that wouldn’t break?” Monica asked.

  “Exactly. There was a safety precaution added in in the event something went wrong. If Jeremiah had tripped or something, the whole thing would have come down with him. Except someone replaced the prop,” Brian explained, eagerly taking the coffee Monica had just finished creating for him.

  Holly came scurrying over, looking quite alarmed by this bit of news that Brian had just presented them with. “So, does that just mean someone was trying to make the set look more realistic?” Holly asked.

  “Possibly, but very unlikely. Someone brought in the new prop, and I think Jeremiah might have been pushed when the lights went out.”

  “Oh my goodness! Now you’re all looking at this as a murder, aren’t you?” Monica asked. “That’s just terrible. Who would want to kill that nice man?”

  “I don’t know,” Brian said, taking a sip of his coffee. “But I intend to find out. I’m about to head back to the theater. It’s now a crime scene, and I’m going to have to hope and pray it hasn’t been traipsed through too much. We had been too quick to write this thing off as an accident, but now we know better. Someone killed Jeremiah.”

  “Are you heading there now?” Monica asked.

  Brian nodded. “Yeah, the chief wanted me on this first thing this morning.”

  “Let me go with you,” Monica said.

  Brian frowned. “I don’t know about that, Monica.”

  “Aww, come on!” Monica pleaded. “I helped you solve the Darren Walker case, didn’t I?”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Brian said. “But I can’t just start bringing a civilian to crime scenes.”

  “I can behave,” Monica assured him. “You said so yourself, I’ve got a natural gift for this sort of thing. Let me help.”

  Brian thought for a moment, but eventually, a smile crept across his face. “Are you good to leave the shop?” he asked.

  “I’ve got this,” Holly assured him. “Abigail and I will keep the place in one piece.”

  “You and the cat?” Brian asked.

  “She’s a smart cat,” Holly said.

  Monica laughed slightly, but eventually, she had Brian convinced to let her tag along. She excitedly hopped into the passenger’s seat of his patrol car after a quick farewell to Holly, and soon they were on their way to the theater. “I can’t believe you want me to drag you off to a crime scene,” he said. “Seems like you would find something like this boring.”

  “Are you kidding? I enjoy spending time with you,” Monica said.

  “Oh yeah?” Brian asked with a grin. “I figured this was just for you to do some research for that book.”

  “What book?” she asked.

  “The book you’re writing,” he said, and Monica’s face turned red.

  She had needed his advice for a crime that had taken place on the other side in Wysteria, and she had told him that it was for a murder mystery book she was writing. “Oh, yeah, that… I don’t know…sort of got stuck. Put it aside for now,” she said.

  “Maybe I can help?” he suggested.

  “I’ll think on it,” Monica said. “Not sure if I’m ready for anyone to read it yet.”

  Thankfully, Brian dropped the subject once they arrived at the theater. There were a few patrol cars already set up in the parking lot, and Brian flashed his badge at one of the officers at the doorway as they entered. Soon, Monica was standing with Brian on the stage. The noose was still swaying from the gallows where it had been the night before.

  “So, you were here in the auditorium when the lights went out,” Brian said. “Did you see anything?”

  “Not really,” Monica said. “I was in the back of the theater. I saw Jeremiah go up the stage, the noose was put around his neck, and he acted as though he was going to step off the platform. Lights went out. They stayed out for a second. People started clapping, and when they came back up, I saw him swaying by the noose and kicking his legs…” Monica shivered. “It was really terrifying. That’s when one of the girls started screaming, and, well, you know the rest.”

  “Who all was on stage?” Brian asked.

  “Pretty much everyone who hadn’t already been killed off,” Monica said. “They were all standing around the gallows. Their characters were there to witness the hanging, I guess.”

  “Anyone could have pushed him or pulled him off the platform, I suppose,” Brian said, circling around the platform. “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have been difficult to jump up there and give him a quick shove. How long were the lights out?”

  Monica thought. She closed her eyes, bringing her mind back to the night before. She imagined the final scene. The lights going out. Then she counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. The lights came back on. “Less than ten seconds, I’d say,” Monica said.

  “That would have been quick,” Brian said. “But, still doable. Jeremiah was a pretty big guy, but I imagine he could have been thrown off balance pret
ty easily with his hands tied and with the lights out. He wouldn’t have seen it coming.”

  “Wait!” Monica said, jumping a bit in her excitement. “There was someone already up on the platform with him!”

  “Who?” Brian asked.

  “His name was Austin. He was playing the character Danforth. He was the one who put the noose around Jeremiah’s neck. He was standing right next to him when the lights went out. He could have pushed him without drawing any attention to himself from anyone on stage.”

  “Good point,” Brian said. “We should interview him first. I just need to find out where he is. I’m going to call the director and see if I can get their contact information from her.” Brian stepped aside, finding a private place to talk on his phone in the wings.

  Monica used this time to look around. The set itself had been pretty simple. Mostly props with very little background pieces. The most complex-looking part of the entire set had been the gallows for the final scene. The court scene had been mostly benches. The simplicity had done nothing to deter the authentic feel of the performance, though. Monica had felt as though she was in Salem. A part of her sympathized with her familiar. She had just been a little girl, after all, when she started pointing fingers at everyone. She didn’t have anyone else in town to help her. And, of all people, she wound up living with a mortal relative who knew nothing about mystics and was in fact a preacher. Abigail had escaped the town once the trials had started to die down, and the Sorcerers’ Council had caught up to her years later when she was older. From what Monica understood, Abigail had actually tried to fight off the Sorcerers’ Council during her arrest, which was probably a big part in their decision for such a lengthy sentence.