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

by Susan Harper

  Brian nodded. “I think I would have to agree with you. Think I could talk you into a last-minute date night?”

  Monica smiled. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking the same thing.”

  8

  Monica and Officer Brian wound up ordering some food to go from a local restaurant, and they took the to-go boxes to the local park where they found themselves a nice picnic bench to sit at. It was a lot nicer and more private than sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant; it had a certain intimacy to it. The picnic bench they had selected was right under a street lamp—one of many that lit up the Bankstown park at night.

  “This is really nice,” Monica said, smiling across at him. “Good call, Brian.”

  “Well, I figured this was better than sitting in the middle of a restaurant people-watching,” he said with a wink as he bit into his BBQ chicken sandwich.

  “People-watching?” she asked, since she had never heard the term.

  He looked at her blankly for a moment. “You know…watching people.”

  “That sounds a little creepy,” Monica said.

  Brian laughed. “I guess it sort of is.”

  “Isn’t that called stalking?” she asked.

  He almost choked on his sandwich trying to stifle a snort. He took a sip of his drink and then shook his head. “You always manage to crack me up. Is Chicago really so different from Bankstown? You say stuff all the time that makes me wonder how different the culture is. Sometimes I think you’re from another country… I remember Isaac telling me once that you referred to a movie as a moving picture show.”

  “I suppose my vernacular is a little different,” Monica said. Obviously, Brian had no idea she was a witch from Wysteria. There were a lot of phrases and words that she was having to get used to as mortals had a very different lifestyle from what she had grown up around.

  “Tell me more about your family,” Brian said. “I know your Aunt Wilma fairly well. But I don’t know anything about your parents or your sister. Is your sister still judging me from our first encounter?”

  “Not at all,” Monica said, snickering. Poor Brian still had no idea that his unusual behavior had been caused by her accidentally overdosing him on a confidence potion. “I told her you were just having an off day. She understands.”

  Brian shook his head. “I can’t believe you didn’t kick me to the curb after that… Well, tell me more about your family. What are your parents like?”

  Monica wasn’t really sure how to explain this one to him. Her father was a wizard, and her mother a witch. They were both extremely skilled in different areas of witchery. Her mother, much like herself, had been an excellent flier. Her father had been a skilled spellcaster and potions master. “Well,” Monica said softly. “They both passed away when Mona and I were pretty young.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he said.

  “It’s okay,” Monica said. “I was…maybe thirteen, I think. There was a sort of explosion at the house.” Truthfully, her father had been working on some sort of new potion that had gone awry and had blown up half the house.

  “An explosion?” Brian asked.

  “Dad was…a scientist…” Monica fibbed. “He was working on something. I’m not exactly sure what, but whatever it was it backfired.”

  “Geez, Monica, I’m so sorry,” Brian said. “I had no idea.”

  “I’ve come to terms with it,” Monica said. “Mona and I wound up living with Aunt Wilma, and you’ve met her. Growing up with her was a lot of fun.”

  “I bet,” Brian said. “She’s a hoot.”

  “She’s nothing like an owl,” Monica said.

  “Yeah?” Brian said uncertainly. “So, what sort of stuff did you like to do when you were growing up?”

  Monica smiled, but frankly, she was not quite sure how to answer this question either. She enjoyed flying and practicing with potions. “I was into…chemistry sets when I was a kid,” she fibbed again.

  It was around this point in the date that Monica realized how hard it was going to be opening up to someone who she couldn’t share her other world with. Frankly, it was a bit depressing. She really liked Brian, and here he was honestly trying to get to know her and every other word out of her mouth was a total lie. She turned the tables on him, asking him questions about his childhood now. He painted a lovely picture. He had grown up right here in Bankstown. His father was a detective in a nearby major city; his mom was a school teacher in Bankstown. His father’s career was one for the record books, so truthfully, Brian felt like he was always trying to live up to the man’s name.

  “One day, I’m going to finish my certification to become a legitimate detective. Right now, working for the force is getting me some hands-on training in that department. It’s the same thing my old man did. He worked as a cop in the city—didn’t think he’d get much action working crime scene out this way. Guess he was wrong. I’ve been pretty busy working here in Bankstown, especially recently. I mean, Jeremiah’s case is my second case in the past month. A small town like this, never really expected to get a chance working homicide cases. But it’s on the job training, and that’s what I need,” Brian explained.

  Once the tides had been turned and Monica wasn’t constantly answering questions about a fabricated version of her childhood, the date turned out to be rather pleasant. They talked about the shop and Monica’s plans for it. They talked about the book she was currently reading. About her newfound friendship with Holly. Overall, it was a fun evening. They laughed and joked around, picking fun at each other. Talked about goals and aspirations, but soon the fun came to an end as their meals were finished and flies were starting to become attracted to the leftover bits in the to-go boxes.

  They walked through the park back toward the parking lot outside the gates, and Brian offered her a ride home, but she turned it down. “I’ve got to go get Abigail from the bookshop,” Monica said.

  “I really don’t feel right about making you walk home,” he said. “At least let me give you a ride to the bookshop.”

  “I have my bike,” Monica said. “So, I won’t really be walking home.”

  “Does your cat like riding in that thing?” Brian asked.

  “Probably,” Monica said under her breath as Abigail had yet to ride in the basket. He drove her to the station, where she’d left her bike, and she thanked him for yet another lovely evening before riding back to the shop and heading inside.

  Abigail was asleep on the back counter when she arrived, and Monica gently nudged her awake. “Come on, Abs, time to get home. We need to try to get some good sleep tonight because we’ve got a busy day tomorrow,” Monica said.

  Abigail jumped up and stretched. “Yes! Tomorrow is my hearing! I think I wore myself out thinking about what all I’m going to say.”

  “It’s going to go well,” Monica said. “I can feel it.”

  It was a clear night, and there were still some cars occasionally zipping through town, so it looked as though Monica’s broom needed to remain in bicycle form on their way home. “Can you even ride a bike?” Abigail asked hesitantly as Monica placed her inside the little black basket.

  “I did just fine earlier today,” Monica assured her, though she left out the part about her driving straight into a bush at the station. At least now she knew how to work the brakes. They zipped off, and Monica had to admit she found this new mode of transportation to be rather enduring. It wasn’t quite like flying, of course, but it was a nice change of pace. The wind blew through her hair much like when she was flying.

  As she turned the corner away from Main Street, she got a second chance to practice using the brakes. This time was much more successful, and she just barely avoided a collision with her friend Isaac. “Whoa!” Isaac said. “Nice bike.”

  “What are you doing out and about?” Monica asked cheerfully.

  “Just went to grab some coffee before heading home,” he said, holding up the to-go mug in his hands.

  “I haven’t s
een you in the bookshop lately,” Monica said. “You working on a big story or something?”

  Isaac seemed to almost roll his eyes at her. “I’m always working on a big story, Monica. That’s my job.”

  “Oh, okay. What story are you working on?” she asked, smiling.

  “You can just read it in the paper, you know?” he said, acting incredibly short with her. “I have to go. I’m sure I’ll see you around… Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t really see much of anyone these days.” He walked past her, seeming to storm off.

  Monica watched him leave, and she felt incredibly anxious by this unusual interaction. “Geez, what’s his problem?” Abigail asked from within her basket.

  “I’m not sure. That was kind of weird, wasn’t it?” Monica asked. “Did I do something to upset him?”

  “When was the last time you two talked?” Abigail asked as Monica pushed off to continue their ride back to their cottage.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe a week ago? He stopped into the shop to get some coffee before heading into work,” Monica said. “You know, come to think of it, he was kind of short with me that day too. I wrote it off as him just running late for work. Maybe I said something that upset him… I mean… I don’t think I did…”

  “You are a little ignorant of the way mortals talk,” Abigail said. “You might have said something offensive completely by accident.”

  “I wouldn’t put that past me. You should have heard me tonight on my date with Brian. He said something about hooting, and I thought he was talking about owls… I don’t think he was,” Monica said, shaking her head. “This whole dating a mortal thing is turning out to be more difficult than I initially anticipated. I feel like I’m just presenting a fake version of myself to him, and that’s no way to have a relationship.”

  “Yet another reason I try to avoid mortals as much as possible,” Abigail grumbled. “They’re difficult creatures. There’s a reason most mystics don’t intermarry with mortals. Mortals are simple and somewhat stupid creatures.”

  “I don’t think they’re stupid,” Monica argued. “They just don’t know about the mystic world. Well, they sort of do. They just talk about us like we’re mythological or something.”

  “How far do you think you can actually take a relationship with a mortal, anyway?” Abigail asked. “I am afraid you might be setting yourself up for failure, Monica. You’re only going to wind up hurting yourself in the end, you know?”

  “Aww, do you suddenly care about me, Abs?” Monica asked.

  Abigail’s tail wagged slightly from within the basket. “Maybe a little. You seem to care about me for whatever reason. I suppose eventually I’m going to have to return the favor.”

  “You are such a good kitty-cat,” Monica said.

  “Not a cat,” Abigail huffed. “And I really don’t like it when you call me that.”

  Monica pulled up outside their cottage, and she stepped off the bike, which immediately turned back into a broom, causing Abigail to fumble down onto the ground, landing on all fours like any normal cat would do, of course. “Come on,” Monica said. “Off to bed. We really do have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  9

  The following morning at the shop, Monica and Holly both were starting to grow a little anxious with all of Abigail’s constant pacing and muttering. Monica had to remind Abigail to hush twice when customers had entered the shop. She was repeating to herself over and over again about what she was going to say to the Sorcerers’ Council that evening. It was all a bit stressful.

  Once the shop had cleared a bit from their morning crowd and Abigail had settled down to try to get her morning nap in, Monica and Holly got to work on entering a new shipment of books into the computer system before they shelved them. “So, I bumped into Isaac last night,” Monica said as they worked alongside each other.

  “Oh, yeah?” Holly asked, opening another box of books. “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen him in a week. How was he doing?”

  “I’m not sure, actually. I got the feeling that he was upset with me about something, and I was wondering if he had said anything to you?” Monica asked.

  Holly shrugged. “No, he hasn’t said anything to me. Though, I haven’t really spoken to him this week much. I’ve been so busy with the shop and reading up on different types of mystics and phone calls with my old adoption agency that I haven’t really had much time for any outings.”

  “Well, next time you talk to him, maybe try to feel him out for me? I really would like to make it right if I did something to offend him,” Monica said.

  “Will do,” Holly agreed.

  Just as they were finishing up with another box of books, the door to the shop opened. Monica glanced toward the front door to see that Brian was entering. She smiled as he made his way back. “A little late for your morning coffee,” Monica said.

  “Well, I’ve got an interview set up with Jasmine, the show’s director,” Brian said. “Thought I would see if you wanted to tag along.”

  “Of course!” Monica said. “So long as you’re good, Holly?”

  “I’ve got this,” Holly assured her.

  Monica started to follow Brian when Abigail came walking by and brushed up against Monica’s leg. “You want to come, Abs?” she asked, and Abigail meowed loudly. Monica smiled. She was sure Abigail was just looking for a way to distract herself from thinking too much about the Sorcerers’ Council. Monica picked Abigail up. “You don’t mind, do you, Brain?” Monica asked.

  “So long as Abigail behaves herself,” he said, and Abigail responded with a loud meow and slight purring noise.

  They headed out, leaving Holly alone in the shop to finish shelving the new arrivals. Monica sat in the passenger’s seat of Brian’s patrol car with Abigail curled up in her lap. She could tell that Abigail was very tense, so she gently scratched her behind the ears. Normally, Abigail was quite opposed to being treated like a pet, but today she seemed rather appreciative and didn’t jerk her head away like she often did. “So, where are we going?” Monica asked as Brian started up the car.

  “We’re meeting her at the theater,” Brian said. “She’s having to rebuild part of the set since whoever killed Jeremiah destroyed the old gallows. The station took the new gallows in as evidence.”

  “I wonder what she is going to do with Jeremiah gone,” Monica said. “He played John Proctor. He was basically the star of the show.”

  “I don’t know,” Brian said. “From what I heard, it doesn’t sound like he had an understudy. They might have to delay some future performances until they can get some more rehearsals in for someone else to take his place.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible,” Monica said. “I imagine she must be very stressed right now. I mean, I’m sure she is mourning his loss as well, but trying to figure out how she is going to pull a show together without their lead actor is probably quite a mess.”

  “She did sound pretty stressed out on the phone,” he said. “I definitely wouldn’t want to be in her shoes right now. It’s a lot to try to pull off. And, as director, she’s sort of the mama bear of the group. She’s pretty much carrying the burden of the whole cast who is mourning right now.”

  “They really did all seem incredibly close,” Monica said. “Austin was especially upset.”

  “He’s pretty torn up about it,” Brian said. “I couldn’t imagine losing someone I had been friends with for that long like that. Died right in front of the poor guy.”

  “I’m guessing you don’t think Austin had anything to do with what happened?” Monica asked.

  “He certainly had the capability since he was right next to the man when it happened, but he was the one person who tried to help me get him down in time to save him,” Brian explained. “So, no, I don’t think it was him.”

  They pulled up outside of the theater and let themselves inside, where they eventually found Jasmine sprawled out center stage with pieces of a new set strewn about. She had a look of frustration about her. “Than
ks for agreeing to meet us, Jasmine,” Brian began. “I see you’re rebuilding the set piece…”

  “That was the plan,” she growled. “But someone seems to have misplaced all of my tools. I can’t find my hammer.”

  “You know, I have a toolbox in the back of my patrol car. Would you want to borrow mine?” Brian said kindly, and the woman’s face seemed to relax tremendously.

  “I would appreciate that, actually,” she said, and Brian excused himself to go get the hammer from his patrol car.

  Abigail walked around on the stage, and Jasmine watched her curiously. “Seems like a well-behaved creature there,” Jasmine said.

  “Abigail is one of a kind,” Monica said.

  “Abigail? Interesting name for a cat,” Jasmine said.

  “Named for Abigail Williams, believe it or not,” Monica said half-jokingly for Abigail’s benefit. Abigail shook her head, but she could tell the familiar was smirking a bit at this joke.

  “A Crucible fan, then?” Jasmine asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Monica said, though truthfully, she had only seen the one production. “What are you going to do about the show? Looks like since you’re rebuilding the set that you’re going to be continuing on with performances.”

  “That’s the plan,” Jasmine said with a heavy sigh. “I’m lining up some auditions. Hopefully we can find someone who can get the part down quickly so that we don’t miss too many performances. This is not going to be easy to pull off. Jeremiah played such a wonderful John Proctor. I don’t know if I could find anyone else who can play such a wonderfully conflicted individual. John Proctor is a wonderfully inspiring character. Tiffany’s performance of Abigail Williams complimented Jeremiah’s John Proctor so well on stage. She always captured the character just perfectly.”

  “I dare say not! I ought to wring your neck, you stupid little mortal!” Abigail shrieked, and Jasmine jumped up to her feet. Abigail then jumped in surprise at herself as well.

  “What!” Jasmine yelped, pointing at Abigail. “Your cat talked!”