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

by Susan Harper

  “Well, unfortunately, there isn’t much we can do about social change right now,” Brian said. “At least we know in our time, things are better.”

  “Are they?” Monica asked, genuinely wondering. She knew Brian didn’t have the answer, but she also didn’t know that he was right. “We know what the answer to all this is: the Split. Are relationships any better if the only reason they’re better is because our kind never interact at all?” Monica sighed. “But you’re right. There isn’t anything we can do about it right now.” She took a few meaningful bites of her lunch, still not all that impressed with the old, chewy meat that she had been served.

  “Well, you know what we talked about,” Brian said. “What about you ladies? Find anything useful?”

  “Maybe,” Monica said. “We did go talk to Cornelius. I don’t think he had anything to do with what happened to Edward, but I do know Edward was taking money from the company. Cornelius seemed to know about it, though. I’m not sure if it was serious enough for him to want to kill him. From the way Cornelius spoke, they were friends, good friends, who came from nothing together to create their business. The way he talked about Edward, he respected him as his business partner.”

  “Still, money can change people. Especially if someone is messing with your money,” Brian said.

  “True,” Monica said. “But someone seems to be trying to frame Alexander or some other wizard. I don’t think Cornelius is the type. He says he even hires mystics from time to time—a rather revolutionary mindset for someone in Boston in the sixteen-hundreds. He likes Alexander. I don’t think Cornelius would want to frame a wizard. There’s not motive there for him. Whoever did this wanted everyone to think it was a mystic.”

  “I agree someone was trying to frame Alexander,” Brian said. “Maybe Cornelius doesn’t have it in for mystics, but he might have just thought it would be an easy way to get people’s suspicions off him. Might not have been anything personal—just an easy scapegoat.”

  Monica nodded. She had to agree with Brian. She didn’t think Cornelius was responsible, but in the moment, blaming a mystic would have been the easiest thing for anyone in that situation. She sighed and at last pushed the food away. It was not appetizing at all. “I say we go talk to Alexander,” she said. “I’m not too keen on just sitting around waiting on Roderick to figure something out. He’s got too much going on.”

  Brian also pushed his plate away. “I never thought you would ask. This food is disgusting.”

  Monica smirked, and the two of them hurried out of the inn. They headed downtown, walking through the streets of a city both so foreign and so familiar, and started asking around about Alexander. Eventually, they learned that he owned a small flat just a few blocks away, so they headed that way. Sure enough, the small street was mostly occupied by mystics—a handful of goblins, some wizards, and a family of fairies living in a tree growing on the street corner. The streets were poorly manned, and several of the windows were boarded up. “It’s like they’ve forced all the mystics into one area of the city,” Brian said. “And then just let the place fall apart.”

  “It’s like a ghetto,” Monica said, and that was exactly what it was. Monica shuddered thinking about how bad things were going to get before they got better, how bad they already were here.

  They arrived at one of the nicer looking flats on the corner, and Monica spied Alexander through a ground-level window. She got his attention with a simple wave, and he sighed and exited his home. “Brian and Monica,” he said kindly. “Let me guess, Authority Roderick is looking for me? I told him I wasn’t going to leave town. I know better… Any chance he is going to be returning my wand to me anytime soon?”

  “Once the case is over and done with,” Monica assured him. “You know he was only taking that from you to protect you. If the officers thought he wasn’t taking you seriously as a suspect, they wouldn’t have let him work the case.”

  “I know,” Alexander said with a sigh. He seemed resigned to his fate of being wrapped up in an ongoing police investigation in which his word wouldn’t be taken at face value simply because of what he was.

  “You work in investments as well, don’t you?” Brian asked.

  “I do,” Alexander said, straightening his suit. “Though I don’t partner with Edward and Cornelius. I own my own firm.” There was a tone of pride in Alexander’s voice.

  “You do well for yourself?” Brian asked.

  “Fairly well, yes,” he said.

  Brian glanced back across the street at the broken paths and uncared for buildings. “Why do you live here?”

  Alexander frowned. “Mystics are not allowed to live downtown in Boston,” he said. “I have to walk to work.”

  “You can’t fly?” Monica asked.

  “Broom flying is prohibited within city limits,” Alexander said. “And mystics can’t own horses in Boston.”

  “So, they force you to walk everywhere?” Monica asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “It’s what I get for living in Boston. They’re very anti-mystic here, but I make it work. I suppose when I first came here, I was foolish to think that people would change. That if they just got used to seeing us more often, that things would change. But things have only gotten worse. More and more laws making it more and more difficult to be a mystic. One of the reasons I’m pro-Split.”

  “You’re pro-Split?” Monica asked, genuinely curious. It was interesting to be in a time of such change for her community. The conversation was incredibly politically charged and hearing the differing opinions interested Monica, helped her to understand why the Split happened.

  “Looks at this dump,” he said, waving at the road. “They think we’re monsters. They treat us like dirt. You saw the way that crowd turned on me when Edward was hurt. I liked Edward. He was a friend of mine. He really was. But they all still jumped down my throat. Sarah too.”

  “You really think the world would be better if mortals and mystics never interacted at all?” Monica asked, feeling quite sad by the thought of it.

  “Do I ever,” Alexander said. “Remembrance has been attacking non-wizards and mortals. That gets the mortals all riled up, and then they come down into this street and attack people in their homes. Mortals think we’re monsters, so they treat us like it. Immortals have been at war with the mystics for generations, and now the Sorcerer’s Council has essentially ordered their genocide, and the mortals are standing by and letting it happen because at least that means the mystics are more focused on immortals than them. Our kinds just…can’t get along.” Alexander shrugged in exasperation.

  “You and Edward and Cornelius seemed to get along just fine,” Monica said.

  “Yes, there are always exceptions,” Alexander said, nodding at Monica and Brian. “Like you two. You two are together, aren’t you?”

  Brian smiled slightly. “Yes,” he said.

  “Good for you,” Alexander said and sighed heavily. “I dated a mortal girl once. Sarah, actually.”

  “You and Sarah?” Brain asked. “When we first met you two, she didn’t even seem to know you were a wizard?”

  “Because she didn’t,” Alexander said. “When she first started coming to Boston, she and I began talking. We were seeing each other quite regularly, but then she found out. Found out I was a warlock, and she broke my heart. Called me filth. Was upset by it, too. Every time I saw her, it was…uncomfortable. So, I performed a memory charm on her. Erased me from her memory. It was easier on us both that way. She hated me so much, so I thought it would be best if she just forgot who I once was to her. She started seeing Edward not too long after that.”

  “You still love her,” Brian said gently. “When we first met you, you were flirting with her. Being very friendly.”

  “I care about her deeply,” Alexander said, voice heavy with pain and sadness. “But she loathed me. You really have no idea how much it hurt. I stepped away, though. I took her memory away so that we could be cordial toward one another because it hurt to
o much to have her hate me. Having her think I was just a friend of a friend who occasionally spoke sweetly to her was much more bearable than having her look at me like I was a monster. A part of me wishes I never told her what I was, but that would have been a mistake. You cannot be with someone and keep something so important about yourself hidden.”

  “I’m very sorry you went through that, Alexander,” Monica said.

  He nodded. “Thank you… I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk about my failed relationship with a mortal girl, though, did you?”

  “We wanted to talk to you about the day Edward died,” Brian said. “Can you tell us where you were when it happened?”

  “Just down the road,” Alexander said. “I was speaking with some clients of mine. I already told the police this. They confirmed my alibis.”

  “That must be why they released you this morning,” Brian said, and Alexander nodded.

  “I wasn’t there until after it happened,” Alexander said. “Of course, I am a wizard. Which is why they are still being rather suspicious of me. They think I must have done something anyhow.”

  Monica thought about her Aunt Wilma. She was a very skilled witch who had perfected a duplicator spell. The woman had the ability to be in two, sometimes three, places at once. So, having an alibi for a wizard meant only so much if their magic was advanced enough. She wasn’t sure how advanced of a wizard Alexander was, though. He couldn’t be eradicated from their suspect list just yet, it seemed.

  10

  Monica and Brian, after speaking for a while longer with Alexander, decided that it would be best to locate Sarah. Sarah, who had been courted by Edward, could potentially be connected to the case as well, and learning she had once had a relationship with Alexander—whether she remembered it or not—certainly raised an eyebrow. The two of them headed back toward the center of town and were able to learn from Cornelius that Sarah was staying at a nice bed and breakfast not far from the inn.

  Monica followed Brian inside the bed and breakfast, though the woman who owned the building didn’t seem pleased with either of them being there. “Time travelers,” she huffed, looking at Monica’s clothes in particular. Monica wasn’t so sure how she felt about being constantly accused of being a woman of loose morals simply because she was wearing blue jeans, but by now, she was getting used to it. “Yes, Sarah is here,” the woman said. “I’ll go get her for you, but don’t you dare cause her any distress! Poor dear by herself in an unfamiliar city… Can’t believe her father let her come here on her own to see her suitor…” The woman bustled off to get Sarah, still muttering to herself about the ridiculousness of it all.

  While waiting on the woman to return, Monica and Brian settled down in front of the fireplace in the sitting area. It was a warm, cozy sort of room. Doilies covered every table in the building, and the curtains were drawn and freshly dusted, making Monica sneeze slightly as she sat herself down. “This is a cute little building,” Monica said, admiring some of the paintings on the walls of previous owners. “I wouldn’t mind staying in a bed and breakfast sometime. A mortal one. I’ve been in a mystic one before, but they’re always so dark and drab. Mortal bed and breakfasts are always so cute and charming.”

  “Your cottage back home looks like a bed and breakfast to me—a little one,” Brian said.

  “Must be why I like this place so much,” she said. “It feels homey.”

  A few minutes went by, and at last Sarah entered in the sitting room. Her face scrunched up uncomfortably at the sight of Monica, and she looked like she was going to up and leave until Brian intervened. “Sarah, we’d like to talk to you about Edward,” he said quickly. “Won’t you have a seat?” He had stood when she entered the room, keeping up with the current time’s expectations with how to act toward a lady.

  Sarah sighed and took a seat, and Brian sat back down next to Monica. “Are you lot helping Roderick and the real police with the investigation?” Sarah asked.

  Monica frowned. “Roderick is an authority. It’s the same thing as a police officer.”

  “It really isn’t,” she said.

  “Yes, we are helping with the investigation,” Brian said. “I’m an officer as well as an authority in our time.”

  “How does that work?” she asked.

  “It works, which is all you need to worry about,” Brian said, sounding more than a little exasperated with the girl. Monica tried not to chuckle. Sarah was more than a little difficult to handle. Her constant disdain for mystics was difficult to listen to, but Monica was going to make it through this.

  Sarah kept eyeing Monica. “Does she really need to be here?” Sarah asked. “I am fairly certain I made myself rather clear about how I feel about witches.”

  “Why do you hate witches so much?” Monica asked.

  “I’ve had enough problems with witches since my time in Salem,” she hissed.

  “You know that no actual witches were killed during the witch trials, right?” Monica asked. She felt her patience dwindling quickly.

  “I’ve told you, I think that Abigail Williams and Mercy Lewis were witches! Especially Abigail!”

  “Why are you so sure Abigail was a witch?” Monica asked curiously.

  “She was an evil little girl!” Sarah snapped. “I saw her performing magic, or at least…I think that’s what I saw. I was just a young girl myself when the trials were taking place. I sat in and listened to the hearings. Watched Abigail and Mercy and all the others shiver and cry ‘Witch! Witch’ while the courts carted away woman after woman to the hangman’s noose. Good, mortal women, like my namesake—dead! All dead because of that filthy witch. She must be a witch to be that evil.”

  “So you…you knew Abigail?” Monica asked. Again, her stomach flipped. There was so much about Abigail that Monica wanted to know, but it was dangerous to ask too many questions, she knew that.

  “Of course I did,” she said. “Very popular little thing in Salem. Her uncle was the town’s reverend. Poor fellow. I don’t think he ever suspected what he had living in his house. Now, Monica, I’m aware there are good witches. I’m not a fool. I know some of you mean well, but I have not had the pleasure of knowing one who is honestly kind. My knowledge of mystics is mostly from Abigail.”

  “What was she like?” Monica asked, and Brian gave her a look as though to tell her they needed to stay on task, but she wasn’t in the mood to listen to Sarah talk about Alexander and Edward. She wanted to know about Abigail.

  Sarah shrugged. “She was a bit mad, I thought. Just a bit. Her parents were killed when she was a wee little thing. She saw them killed, I think.”

  “Tell me about the trials. Start from the beginning,” Monica said. “Start with Abigail.” Monica couldn’t help herself. It wouldn’t do any harm to know what had happened, maybe it would help Monica to understand why Abigail had been so distant since they arrived in this time. Maybe it would help her help Abigail.

  Sarah crossed her arms. “Oh, very well. Abigail. Her parents were killed during a raid by some of the natives. Smashed their heads in. Abigail wasn’t quite right after that. Went to move in with her uncle, Reverend Samuel Parris. He had a daughter her age. Betty. On more than one occasion, the two of them were seen doing some questionable things. Flailing about. One of them tried to climb up a chimney, I’ve heard. Odd behavior! I saw her body contort into…odd shapes. Her head spun about! Everyone in town lost their minds, naturally. Panicked. The reverend’s daughter and niece losing their minds, they said! Abigail influenced Betty to play her maddening games with her. Well, the reverend started calling people in to look into the girls’ behavior, and that’s when Abigail started making accusations toward people. Saying she was being possessed by a witch!”

  “And that’s what started it all?” Monica asked. “Sounds like a little girl just playing a game with her cousin…”

  “Sarah Good was the first to die,” Sarah said. “And others came afterward. Over a hundred and fifty arrests. Twenty killed. All because
Abigail Williams started making accusations.”

  “It’s your people’s fault,” Monica said angrily. “If your people weren’t hunting witches, no one would have had to die.”

  Sarah leaned in, glaring at Monica. “The rest of the world is on its way to learning a thing or two from Salem.”

  “Was that a threat?” Monica felt a deep anger swelling in her chest, and she was struggling to control it.

  “No,” Sarah said. “Just a statement of fact. People are starting to realize that no witches were killed during those trials. Why else do you think the Sorcerer’s Council is after Abigail Williams? Because she’s the only real witch to have ever come out of Salem, the only one, and she turned Salem into her personal playground. Had us all killing each other like a town full of lunes. She did that to us. The witch. The vile, filthy witch. You think because I’m mortal that I haven’t heard about what the Sorcerer’s Council is thinking about doing? The so-called Split? I’ve heard about it. There are plenty of mortals who have. Why do you think no one is stopping them from hunting immortals? Immortals are far more like us mortals than the mystics. But if they need to kill a handful of immortals so that they can leave, so be it. We can’t live together in harmony. Salem proved that.”

  Sarah stood up, but Brian did as well. “We haven’t even asked you about the case,” Brian said.

  “What do you want to know?” she snapped.

  “I want to ask about your relationship with Alexander,” Brian said.

  “Relationship? What relationship?” she asked. “I barely know that wizard, and if I had known he was one of their kind, I wouldn’t have ever given him the time of day at all!” She stormed off, leaving Brian and Monica alone in the sitting room.

  “Good job,” Brian said with a slight huff. “We didn’t learn anything about the case. What did you get her all riled up for?”