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

by Susan Harper

  “Abigail!” Monica wailed.

  “Oh, sorry. I just…couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Tiffany couldn’t adequality capture my character if her life depended on it!” Abigail insisted, and Jasmine practically screeched in surprise.

  Monica reacted quickly. This wasn’t good. She pulled out her wand and pointed it right at the shocked Jasmine and called out, “Memoria culpa!” She was repeating the memory charm she had seen both her aunt and sister do, a charm she had never attempted before. A light erupted from the tip of her wand, hitting Jasmine, and the woman fell over asleep.

  “You waved your wand too rapidly,” Abigail scolded.

  “You talked in front of her, you nitwit!” Monica yelped. She hurried over to Jasmine, shaking her awake.

  Jasmine sat up, rubbing her head and yawning. “Did I doze off?” she asked. “I just had the strangest dream…about your cat…”

  Well, that charm didn’t work, Monica thought. “Um…yes, you fell asleep. You must be exhausted.”

  “Oh, I am,” Jasmine said, rubbing her eyes just as Brian entered back into the auditorium to loan the woman a hammer.

  “You all right, Jasmine?” Brian asked.

  “I just dozed off on your friend here,” Jasmine said, taking the hammer. “It’s been a stressful and sleepless couple of days.”

  “I imagine so,” Brian said. “We will try not to waste too much of your time. We just would like for you to tell us what you can about Jeremiah.”

  Jasmine smiled. “Of course. What is there to say other than he was one of the most wonderful actors I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with! A natural-born talent, that one. You should have seen his last audition! I re-watch it over and over again.”

  “Re-watch?” Brian asked.

  “Oh, yes, I record all auditions,” Jasmine said. “Allows me to go back and watch them for when I’m casting.”

  “Do you have everyone’s auditions on tape?” Monica asked.

  “Why, yes,” Jasmine said. “You’re welcome to borrow them if you think it could help.”

  Brian shrugged. “You never know. Yes, we’d love to have them.”

  “They’re here at the theater. I’ve got a back office here,” Jasmine said. “I’ll get them for you before you leave.”

  Jasmine more or less helped to confirm most everything people had already told them about Jeremiah and his relationship with the rest of the cast and crew. Everyone loved him, and he got along with everyone—even his ex-girlfriend. They helped Jasmine finish putting up the gallows. She smiled approvingly and commented that once she painted the plastic, it would turn out looking like authentic wooden gallows. “This is how the gallows I had originally made were,” she said. “It wouldn’t take much pressure from the noose to cause the whole thing to collapse. It was a safety precaution.”

  “We know this wasn’t your fault, Jasmine,” Brian said. “We found your original gallows broken to bits inside the dumpster out back. Someone changed your design and put Jeremiah in danger.”

  “I just can’t imagine who would want to ruin the show and hurt someone as loving and kind as him,” Jasmine said, shaking her head. “Let me go get those tapes for you.” She disappeared for only a few minutes, returning with a large box full of videos. “I hope you have a VCR. My video camera is old school.”

  “I think there’s one at the shop in the top of the storage closet,” Monica said.

  “Would you mind if I borrowed your shop’s loft to watch these tapes? You have a television set up there, don’t you?” Brian asked.

  “I do, and of course you can,” Monica said.

  They thanked Jasmine for the interview and for the tapes before leaving the theater. Monica carried Abigail and Brian’s hammer while Brian carried the large box of tapes. “This looks like a lot of material to go through,” Brian said. “Looks like it’s going to be a long afternoon.”

  “I don’t envy you,” Monica said as they loaded up into the car.

  “Wait, you mean to tell me you’re not going to watch all of these with me?” Brian joked, and Monica laughed.

  “Well, I suppose I could watch a few of them with you,” she said. “You really think you might find something on those tapes?”

  “Probably not,” Brian said. “But you never know. I’ve got to start somewhere, and so far, just interviewing people about Jeremiah hasn’t really gotten me any further than I was starting out.”

  “That’s true,” Monica said. “Well, here’s hoping. Maybe I should pop some popcorn or something, and we can pretend we’re on a movie date or something.”

  Brian laughed. “I suppose that could work. Do you have any popcorn at the shop?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” she said. Monica had started buying popcorn in droves ever since Isaac and Holly had taken her to her first movie experience.

  10

  Monica felt her eyes becoming rather droopy after Brian put in yet another audition tape from Jasmine’s collection. She hadn’t realized how popular the local theater must have been with the absurd number of people who had auditioned to be a part of this particular production. They had watched Jeremiah’s audition first, and it had been excellent. He had blown Monica and Brian away, but now they were sifting through the less-than-excellent auditions of people who had not quite made the cut.

  The two of them were curled up on the beanbag chairs in the bookshop’s loft where a small television was set up for people’s viewing pleasure. Most people used this area as a reading nook, but because the shop did have a small DVD section in a corner of the shop, Monica’s aunt had set up the television back when she had owned the shop. More often than not, Monica had used the area to put in children’s movies to distract the children of parents who wanted to do their book browsing without a child complaining at their side nonstop.

  Today, however, it was being used for official police matters, though it felt more like a date in which a couple had made a terrible selection on what they had chosen to watch. Monica had even popped some popcorn and poured them some soda, and the smell of the popcorn made it almost feel like they were at the movies. It was past closing time now, and Monica could hear Holly working hard at closing duties down below. Checking the time on her phone, she knew it was almost time for them to go meet with the Sorcerers’ Council—which meant she was going to have to do something about Brian. She wasn’t exactly sure how to explain to him that she needed to dip out for a bit to go talk to the mystic courts about reducing her cat’s magical sentence. Just as she was trying to think up a viable excuse to dip out, she felt his head land on her shoulder.

  Oh my goodness, he’s asleep! Monica blushed slightly. The videos were quite boring, and it had gotten a bit dimmer in the shop as the late evening sun had nestled in behind some clouds. It had been a long few days, so clearly the man was quite exhausted, but this presented a good opportunity. Slowly and carefully, she slid out from beneath Brian’s head and lowered his head onto the beanbag chair she had been seated on. She felt herself go warm. He looked so precious sleeping sprawled out on those beanbag chairs. She scribbled him a note that she had gone to get more snacks in the event that he woke up before she quietly made her way out of the loft.

  “He’s sleeping,” Monica whispered to Holly and Abigail, who were already waiting for her by the back door.

  “Good,” Holly said. “I was wondering how we were going to sneak out of Bankstown without him noticing.”

  “Let’s just get a move on before we are late,” Abigail insisted, and the three of them crossed over the threshold.

  Mona had already left for the evening, which saved Monica from having to spend time explaining what it was they were up to. “She sure is closed early,” Abigail said.

  “I think she has a date with that wizard who works for her,” Monica said. “She was sort of hinting at it.”

  “Figured she hired him as eye candy,” Abigail teased as they exited the shop.

  The sun was just barely hanging over the horiz
on in Wysteria, making a blue and pink tint across the sky as they walked through the streets. Several other shops were starting to close up on Wysteria’s main strip, and evening pubs and restaurants were bustling. A number of vampire-owned shops would be opening soon as well.

  “How do we get to the Sorcerers’ Council?” Holly asked excitedly.

  “The train,” Monica said. “They’re located just outside of Wysteria’s borders.”

  “No flying, then?” Holly asked.

  “It’s a pretty good distance for us to do a two-person flight,” Monica said. “I left my broom back at the shop. Not sure if it could handle carrying both of us that distance.”

  Holly seemed very disappointed, but she seemed eager to take a train ride nonetheless. Once they arrived at the station, Holly expressed her disappointment at how normal it all seemed. “What were you expecting?” Abigail asked. “It’s just a train.”

  “I suppose I was expecting some sort of secret entrance,” Holly said.

  “Why would the entrance to the station be secret?” Monica asked.

  “I see I am going to have to introduce you to Rowling,” Holly said.

  “A friend of yours?”

  Holly slapped her own forehead. “You own a bookshop.”

  “I’m aware. Does your friend own a bookshop as well?” Monica asked.

  “You know what, never mind,” Holly said, laughing slightly. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, I want to focus on this meeting!”

  “Same!” Abigail exclaimed. “I hope this goes well. I really do.”

  “I’m sure it will,” Monica assured her as they boarded the train. They found themselves their own cart, and after several minutes, the train began to move rapidly through Wysteria’s countryside. Holly stared out the window bright-eyed as she got glimpses of the mystic world she had not yet seen.

  “Unicorns!” she cried excitedly when they saw a herd running about in a field.

  “Yes, yes, it’s all very exciting,” Abigail said sarcastically. “Now, what exactly are we going to say to the Sorcerers’ Council? Do you have anything planned out?”

  “I do, as a matter of fact,” Monica said. “I’m going to be speaking to them first, and I’m going to talk about how you saved me from Renfield. I think that is an excellent example of your character.”

  Abigail seemed to almost smile behind those whiskers of hers. “I suppose that was…heroic, wouldn’t you say?”

  Monica picked her up and sat the cat in her lap. She began to scratch her behind the ears, and she actually heard Abigail purring. “Yes, I would say it was heroic. You could have gotten hurt going up against that lunatic.”

  “Renfield was that weird…changeling-vampire hybrid thing, right?” Holly asked, still distracted by the view through the window.

  “Yeah. He was Uncle Drac’s changeling counterpart, and after Uncle Drac got bit by a vampire, the changeling part of Renfield couldn’t handle the shift. Made him all crazy,” Monica said. “He went after me, and this brave little kitty-cat jumped at him to get him away from me.”

  “Aww, you do have a heart!” Holly teased.

  Abigail huffed, but she didn’t stop purring. Monica could hardly remember a time when Abigail had purred happily. It was a rare occurrence. Another fifteen minutes or so on the rapidly-moving train, and soon they had arrived at their destination. When they exited the station, Holly stood with her jaw hanging wide open at the enormous, glistening building before them. It looked almost like a cathedral with its gothic architecture and white marble exterior. The steps leading up to the main entrance were quite a workout, and the golden doors on the front of the building opened on their own as the women and familiar entered.

  There were mystics everywhere, from ghosts and ghouls to witches and goblins. Holly looked like a child in a candy shop as she spied a number of different creatures she had never seen before bustling about the courthouse. “I’ve got a meeting scheduled for tonight, I’m telling you!” a man standing thirty feet tall shouted at what at first glance appeared to be a doe sitting behind a counter. She wore glasses on the end of her nose and was dressed in a suit as she typed with her hooves on a computer.

  “I’m sorry, Edgar, but it clearly says right here that your meeting with the Sorcerers’ Council is not until next month,” the doe-woman said, her large deer head peering carefully at the screen from behind her enormous spectacles.

  “Honestly!” the giant snapped. “Fine! Fine! Huge waste of my time!”

  “Edgar, you take fifteen steps, and you’re here. The only person whose time you’re wasting is mine. Now, off with you!” the deer-woman snapped, and the giant stormed out of the courthouse.

  Holly was practically giddy looking at the strange creature behind the counter. The deer woman’s eyes darted in their direction, and Monica hurried straight up to the counter. “We have a hearing for Abigail Williams,” Monica said.

  The deer woman typed on the computer with her front hooves. “Ah, yes. Monica Montoya…and Holly… I don’t have a last name for you, dear?”

  “Holly Harp,” she said.

  “Yes, the…mortal hybrid?” she asked. “Interesting… Yes, Abigail Williams, they should be ready for you. Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?”

  The deer-woman swiveled in her chair and stepped down. She walked on her hind legs, a clipboard under her front leg like a woman carrying something under her arm. “This way,” she said.

  They followed the deer-creature down a series of hallways and up a magical elevator that went so fast Holly fell over from the surprise. “Honestly,” the secretary huffed as they were let off the elevator.

  Down one more long, dark hallway, and then the deer-woman stood outside enormous double-doors painted gold. “Wait here until they call you,” she said, then trotted off.

  Several minutes ticked by, and then the golden doors opened. “Abigail Williams and company!” a booming voice called. The three of them entered an enormous, circular room.

  They were expected to stand in the center of the large room, surrounded by elderly mystics looking down at them from their pedestal seats. There were several of them. At the forefront of the room were four witches and two wizards, the leaders of the council. All around the rest of the room were the elected officials who represented other mystics. A mermaid whose pedestal seat was essentially a giant fish bowl. A shapeshifter, clearly of the dragon clan. A centaur woman. A dwarf, a serpent-like creature, a giant who just barely fit in his seat, a fairy, a werewolf currently in his humanoid form, and a various number of other mystics all staring down at them.

  The witch at the front of the room spoke from behind a desk, a crystal ball in front of her. “Abigail Williams, your witch has written us requesting a hearing to discuss a potential reduction in your sentence. We are all quite aware of your crimes against the mortals. Your actions resulted in the deaths of twenty persons and the wrongful accusation of over two hundred mortals. Do you deny this charge?”

  Abigail sighed, sitting upright as she spoke. “No,” she said. “I do not deny it.”

  “Good. That just saved us some time,” the witch said. “The council at that time sentenced you to five centuries to serve as a familiar. Twenty-five years for each life lost during the trials. At your first hearing, the council permitted you to reduce from that sentence the few years you spent in hiding after the trials. This would leave…one hundred and seventy-five years left to your sentence as it stands. Is this correct?”

  “Yes,” Abigail said.

  “Now, Miss Montoya, you have written us under the idea that you believe this sentence should be reduced,” the witch said. “Care to tell us why you feel this way?”

  “I feel the council who originally sentenced Abigail failed to take into consideration the predicament that she was in,” Monica began. “Abigail was only twelve when the Salem Witch Trials began. She acted out of desperation. As an orphaned witch in a town like Salem, a town full of anti-witch hysteria, Abigail had to do
what she could to save herself. She had no one to turn to after the death of her parents, and the only adult responsible for her was the town’s preacher, her mortal uncle, who knew nothing of Abigail’s mystic heritage. She had no one to turn to, and when whispers of witchcraft spread throughout Salem, she had to fend for herself. While this most certainly does not excuse what she did, it does offer us a bit of insight toward why she acted in the way that she did. She has served over three hundred years toward her sentence. I feel that she has grown greatly as a mystic and deserves a second chance at a hearing.”

  There were some mumbles between the council as they whispered to one another. The witch in front banged a gavel to get their attention. “Can you present any evidence that Abigail has, as you put it, changed?”

  “Yes,” Monica said. “Abigail saved me from Renfield very recently. She is a hero, and I feel at the very least this deserves some sort of reduction.”

  The witch pressed her hands against the crystal ball, and soon they were all watching the incident unfold as Abigail leaped on Renfield to defend Monica. Some of the council seemed pleased with this. “Perhaps her good deed does warrant a slight reduction?” the mermaid spoke, and Monica could see Abigail perk up quite a bit. “Five hundred years was quite a heavy sentence for a minor, wouldn’t you agree? Abigail, how old were you when the council caught up to you in Boston? Remind me?”

  “Seventeen,” Abigail said.

  “Yes, see?” the mermaid said. “Her crimes were committed at the age of twelve. The end of the trials resulted in her running, and she spent the rest of her childhood on the run. The only lenience the council of that day gave her was allowing her to reduce five years from her five-hundred-year sentence—the five years she spent in hiding. Abigail has served three hundred and twenty years almost to the day. Another one hundred and seventy-five years seems to be a bit excessive.”

  “Three hundred and twenty years would only be sixteen years per life lost!” the centaur shouted from across the room. “I daresay you should look at the life expectancy and grant her a year for each year of a life that could have continued.”