by Susan Harper
“Yes, we do need to get you back quickly,” Monica said. “Thaddeus, is it?”
“Thaddeus is most certainly my name, and now returning home is my greatest aim. Can the kind witch and her mortal friend help me see my mission through till the end?”
“I don’t think you need to worry about Isaac,” Monica said. “He is convinced everything he saw is alien, and the pictures he’s posted online are terrible. You can let your boss know you all have nothing to worry about. But in order for you to do that, I guess we’re going to have to get you home.”
“Wait, we?” Holly asked, jumping up and down excitedly. “Are we going to the North Pole?”
Monica smirked. “Looks that way. Are you down?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I’m down!”
“Good,” Monica said. “Because something tells me that the big guy up north is wondering what happened to his missing elf.”
Holidays and Homicide
Back Room Bookstore Cozy Mystery, Book 6
1
A lovely, crisp layer of snow covered the grounds of the always lively Bankstown. Monica Montoya and her one employee, Holly, slipped out of Backroom Books, Monica’s shop, after finishing their closing duties a bit early that evening. They stood outside the front door, admiring the scenery before them that looked like something you would see on a holiday post card. “Beautiful,” Monica said. “You don’t get snow like this in Wysteria,” she said, referring to the mystic town that she, a witch, had come from.
Bankstown was on the border of the mystical town of Wysteria, with Backroom Books built around the portal that separated them. The backroom, disguised as a storage closet, really led to the other side of the store, the mystical Backroom Books that Monica’s twin sister Mona ran. Holly, Monica’s closest friend from the mortal realm, had only recently learned about the world of the mystics, and they had also discovered that she likely had some sort of mystic ancestry herself, though what exactly was still uncertain.
“It doesn’t snow in Wysteria?” Holly asked.
“Sometimes,” Monica said. “But it’s usually pretty icy. Not fluffy and, well, gorgeous like this.”
Holly checked her phone. “Okay, it’s officially closing time. So, let’s move.”
They ladies headed around the back of the shop where Monica had left her bike, which was really her broom with a shapeshifting spell. “Broom,” Monica said to the purplish bike, and it transformed itself into a usual witch’s broom. Monica threw her leg over the side, and Holly hopped on the back.
“You think your broom will ever let me take it for a spin?” she asked, and Monica laughed at the memory of the broom bucking her off—confirmation that whatever sort of mystic Holly was, it likely wasn’t a witch.
“Maybe,” Monica said. “My broom has a bit of an attitude, but I think that’s why I love it so much.”
Monica kicked off, and they zoomed up into the air. There were plenty of clouds that evening, and it was a bit dreary. Now that they had truly entered into winter, it was darker much earlier, making night flights in the land of the mortals a much safer venture. Holly held onto Monica as she zipped them across town, the two women laughing hysterically as the chilly winter wind blew Monica’s strawberry blonde hair in Holly’s face.
“So,” Monica called over the sound of the wind. “How is Isaac holding up?”
Isaac, Holly’s closest friend, had spent a few days in jail a few weeks ago after being falsely accused of a crime. He’d been cleared, but he had been a bit shaken up ever since. “A lot better, actually,” Holly said. She had been spending a lot more time with her friend in the past few weeks. “He and I… Well, we’re doing good…”
“Do I detect something there?” Monica asked.
Holly hesitated. “Maybe… I don’t know… I think…”
“What?” Monica pressed.
“Is it weird to be friends with someone for this long and to start, I don’t know, catching feelings?” Holly asked, and Monica nearly knocked them both off the broom from her jolting around in her excitement.
“Finally!” Monica cried. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that! Holly, are you kidding me? Isaac loves you!”
“Monica, keep the broom steady!” Holly insisted. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” Monica said, straightening the broom just in time for them to land in the mostly deserted parking lot of a local pet shop. “Great. They’re still open. Let’s go.”
Monica told her broom to turn back into a bicycle, and they left it parked in front of the pet shop before heading inside. They knew exactly what they had come for, so it did not take them long. They found a crate for a medium-sized dog and purchased it quickly before heading back out. There was a young man lying flat on his back next to Monica’s bike, rubbing his head. “Hey, are you okay?” Holly asked.
The boy rubbed his head and sat up slowly on the pavement. “Yeah… I… The bike…”
Monica rolled her eyes before pushing her bike away, Holly following close behind carrying the dog crate. “Did he try to steal your broom and it jumped up and smacked him?” Holly asked.
“Looks that way,” Monica said with an eye-roll.
“You really should get a chain,” Holly suggested.
“I know, but good ones are kind of pricy,” Monica said. “Maybe after the new year. Christmas is less than a week away, and I still have plenty of shopping to do.”
They jumped back on the bike once it turned into a broom again and zipped back across town. Eventually, they landed in the parking lot of Holly’s apartment complex. Monica carried the broom, and Holly carried the dog crate, up to the second-floor apartment. Once they were standing outside the door, they could hear Abigail, Monica’s feline familiar, screaming on the other side. “Sounds like she had a good day,” Monica said a little sarcastically as Holly opened up the door.
Abigail was running around, hissing and screeching at the demonic little ball of fluff that was chasing her. “Eek!” Holly yelped, jumping back as they scurried past and nearly dropping the dog crate.
“It ran out of cookies!” Abigail wailed, jumping up onto the kitchen island in time for Monica to reach out and grab the creature by its collar.
It tried to bite her, and it did manage to scratch up her arm pretty good before Holly opened up the door of the crate. Monica shoved it inside, and Holly closed the door and locked it. Both women jumped back as the creature clawed and chewed, trying to break the crate open. “What happened?” Monica asked the black cat now sitting on the counter. “I thought we left plenty of cookies for it?”
“It went through those hours ago,” Abigail said, panting. “The longer the elf is away from the North Pole, the more cookies it is going to need to keep it from going all Gremlin on you.”
“Elves… I had no idea they would be this way,” Holly said, panting a bit from the shock of the whole ordeal. “Thaddeus is getting worse every day. I don’t think we can keep putting this off. We’ve got to get him back home before he winds up escaping the apartment one day and wreaking havoc on the whole town.”
The North Pole elf, Thaddeus, had arrived around Thanksgiving. He had stumbled into Holly’s apartment after his reindeer had ditched him in town. Christmas elves, as Monica had explained to Holly, required a high level of sugar in their diets whenever they ventured away from the North Pole. “I know,” Monica said. “Which is exactly why I am going first thing tomorrow. We can’t keep putting this off. At this point, that elf if a danger to itself as much as it is to us.”
“Especially me!” Abigail moaned. “You keep leaving me to watch this little thing while you two are at the shop, and it almost ate me!”
Monica was already working in the kitchen on making another batch of cookies. Holly was watching her carefully. “So, you are going to the North Pole?” Holly asked. “As in the North Pole. As in Santa’s workshop?”
“Pretty much,” Monica said.
“You can’t possibly
expect me to stay here in Bankstown to watch the shop,” Holly said. “I know you’re my boss and all, but Santa! Are you kidding me? I have to see this for myself. I thought Santa was just a thing parents told their kids, and you’ve been telling me for the past few weeks that this is a real-life toyshop elf that’s been knocking my furniture around. I can’t miss this.”
Monica nodded. “I suppose I can call Mona and see if she could handle both sides of the shop for a few days. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. She has her boyfriend helping her out on the mystic side.”
“What all are we going to need for the journey?” Holly asked excitedly.
“Hold on a second, let me check with Mona first,” Monica said, walking over to the mirror hanging by the front door. Monica pulled out her wand, tapped the mirror twice, and said, “Mona Montoya.”
There was some swirling light, and after a moment, another face appeared in the mirror. The face looked quite similar to Monica, though this particular witch’s hair was far from strawberry blonde. It was a dark, sleek black, and her eyes shone with a purplish tint. “Monica, what’s up?” Mona asked.
“Whoa. It’s like Facetime,” Holly said, peeking over Monica’s shoulder, always very fascinated by Monica’s use of magic.
“Glad you were home,” Monica said. “Listen, we have a little problem here in Bankstown. I’m sure Aunt Wilma has told you all about Holly’s current houseguest.”
“The North Pole elf?” Mona asked.
“That’s the one,” Monica said. “Well, with Christmas coming up, I feel like we can’t keep putting this off.”
“You want to take the little guy home?” Mona asked.
“Exactly,” Monica said.
“Let me guess… Holly wants to go with you?” Mona asked, likely spotting Holly peering over Monica’s shoulder.
“That would be correct,” Monica said.
“Need me to watch the…mortal…side of the shop?” Mona asked with a bit of distaste in her mouth.
“It’s really not as bad as you think,” Monica assured her. “Holly’s part-mortal. And Aunt Wilma loves mortals.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Mona said with a groan. “How long do you think it will take you?”
“I’m sure it’ll just be a little weekend trip,” Monica said. “I really would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mind watching the shop for a few days for me.”
Mona sighed. “I suppose I can handle it. It’s awfully close to the holidays, though. I’m going to have to pull in Aunt Wilma for help because of the extra holiday traffic.”
“I know,” Monica said. “But it’s not like us keeping one of Nick’s elves locked up in a cage is going to bode well for any of us.”
“Good point,” Mona said with a sigh. “Fine. But you need to leave first thing tomorrow. Christmas is approaching faster than I think you realize.”
“Believe me, I know,” Monica said, sighing. “I still have some shopping to take care of.”
“What better place than the North Pole to finish up your Christmas shopping?” Mona said.
“Wait, there are shops?!” Holly asked excitedly. “At the North Pole?”
“Well, yeah,” Monica said. “It’s a whole town. It’s not just a giant toy factory. It’s one of the few mystic civilizations left on the mortal side.”
Holly was beyond herself. “Oh my gosh, I have to go pack!” she exclaimed, disappearing in the back of her apartment.
Monica smirked a bit. She could hear Holly thrashing around in search of a thicker winter coat. “This should be good,” Monica said, laughing and turning back to the mirror where her sister was staring at her with this rather unsatisfied look about her.
“Yeah, well, don’t spend all weekend up there if you can help it,” Mona said. “You know how I feel about coming to the other side. I know you are interested in mortals and all, but it’s not really my thing. And I do have my side of Backroom Books to worry about.”
“I know, I know,” Monica said. “I’ll be back quick as a flash, I promise.”
Mona didn’t look so sure. “I know you,” she said. “You get distracted easily.”
Monica laughed. “I suppose that’s true. Thanks, sis.”
“Of course,” Mona said, and the mirror changed back to normal.
Monica turned around. “Holly! You need help packing?” she called and hurried after her friend.
2
Mona Montoya was absolutely nothing like her sister. Sure, they were twins, but that didn’t really mean much. Mona was all witch. She preferred things in black, cobwebs were an ideal accessory to any room, and her wand skills far surpassed anything her sister could ever dream of. But there was a bit of guilt that came with that. It was common in twins for one of them to wind up with more magic than the other. There were a lot of theories that surrounded why this happened, but the most common was that one of the twins would overpower the other during their mother’s pregnancy and soak up all the magic. Mona had more magic flowing in her than your average witch, and for Mona, that seemed to confirm that she had stolen Monica’s magic long before either of them were born. Not that that could be proven. It was just an old witches’ tale. Even looking at the twins, one could instantly tell the difference. Monica was a pretty little strawberry blonde with shimmering blue eyes that made her look frightfully mortal. Mona, on the other hand, had jet black hair and her eyes glimmered an almost purple color.
It was because of their differences that taking over their aunt’s bookshop had seemed like such a wise investment. Mona could run the side for the mystics. Monica, on the other hand, was able to run the mortal side. Her sister had always had a strange fascination with mortals that likely stemmed from the fact that Monica, with her lack of magic, was an unnatural witch. Even the simplest of spells could be quite difficult. Mona had expected she would need to step in on occasion to help out with the mortal side, just as Monica had done from time to time on the mystic side. However, she hadn’t expected to find herself completely alone on the mortal side of the shop while her sister and her sister’s friend traveled to the North Pole to deliver a wicked little elf back to the man in red.
Mona was staring at the coffee machine. It made a horrible brown drink that mortals felt they needed to have in order to make it through their day. She had no idea how to work it, despite Monica having already gone over it with her before her departure. “Don’t do it,” Lenore, her familiar, a raven, squawked from where she sat on the counter.
“Do what?” Mona snapped.
“Whip that wand out just to make a pot of coffee,” Lenore said.
Mona rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t going to,” she lied. “I can figure out how to make a cup of coffee. Maybe if I’m lucky, no one will come in for coffee.”
As though the universe was just dying to prove her wrong, Officer Brian entered the shop. Monica had warned her that Brian would likely be by that morning for coffee as he usually came by before work. Mona put her finger to her lips, warning Lenore not to talk in front of this mortal man. He was looking at his phone as he entered, so when he looked up halfway toward the back, he jumped a bit in surprise. “Monica…” he began. “Did you dye your… Oh, wait, you’re Mona!” he exclaimed in surprise, then laughed at himself. “We’ve met…”
“Yes, you were unconscious after my sister smashed your head on a coffee table,” Mona said, and Brian’s face turned a bright pink color.
“Well… I’m sorry about that terrible first impression,” he said. Mona knew that the man had been under the power of a potion that Monica had accidentally overdosed him with, but Mona had a certain overprotective nature when it came to her twin. A part of her wanted him to instantly think that she didn’t approve of him, though she had not made that decision just yet. “So…err…you working the shop today for your sister?” he asked. “Didn’t realize you were in town.”
“Yes… For the holidays,” Mona said quickly. Brian certainly didn’t need to know that out of town was a simple step through a magical d
oor for her. “Monica had some things to take care of along with Holly. I believe they are sneaking out of Bankstown for a few nights to do some rather extravagant Christmas shopping.” Mona smiled slightly, her thin lips curling up ever-so-slightly in satisfaction at the quick lie she had come up with.
“Oh, great,” he said, looking quite disappointed. “So, would you mind if I got a coffee?”
“Yes, let me get something for you,” she said. “I must apologize as I’m not quite the barista that my sister is.”
Brian laughed slightly. “She wasn’t much at first either, but she picked it up quick. Plus, Holly has helped her out a bit. Just make something you’re comfortable with. I’m not too picky.”
Mona stared at the machine for a bit, wishing that she had jinxed it before the man had entered the shop. Eventually, the coffee began to drain out, and she poured him a to-go mug. “Sugar and cream?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” he said.
Mona did her best and handed him the mug. He took a sip, and Mona could tell he was trying not to cringe and forced a very fake look of satisfaction. “Good,” he said. Mona shook her head. She didn’t need him to pretend to like her coffee. “So, Mona, what do you do?” he asked. “Are you a book lover like your aunt and sister?”
“Yes,” Mona said. “I run a bookshop in Chicogo.”
“Chicago?” he asked.
“That’s what I said,” Mona said quickly. “Chicackgo.”
“Right…”
“I deal more with non-fiction works at my shop,” Mona said. “Monica has a flair for fiction.”
He smiled. “I’ve noticed. I have to ask you… I’m sure you know that Monica and I have been on a few dates.”
“I was unaware,” Mona lied with the mere intention of making him uncomfortable.
“Oh,” he said, and he instinctually looked down to avoid eye contact with her.
“It was a joke,” Mona said.
“Gotcha…” Brian said, and he sounded a bit nervous around her now. “Well, the reason I bring it up is because, well, Christmas is right around the corner. And, well, I want to get her something special. Something she’s going to like. I was wondering if you might have any ideas. I mean, we’ve only gone on so many dates, and I’m not sure what she would like. What are you getting her?”
