Even Witches Get the Blues (Wicked in Moonhaven~A Paranormal Cozy Book 1)

by J. D. Winters

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Copyright © 2016 J.D. Winters

  Cover Copyright © 2016 DoorKnock Publishing

  Cover images from Shutterstock.com

  First Edition May, 2016

  Even Witches Get the Blues

  Wicked in Moonhaven 1: A Paranormal Cozy

  J.D. Winters

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  My Mailing List!

  Also in the Cozy Mystery Series

  ABOUT AUTHOR

  Chapter One

  At first I didn’t even realize anything was missing.

  I woke up in the stark, bare motel room just off the freeway, a place I later found out was about fifty miles north of San Francisco. I got up, took a shower, yawning and trying to hum a little, washing my hair like I always did, then drying it with the skimpy towel on the rack, and didn’t think a thing of it.

  It was just another morning. I went through my routine, putting on makeup, combing my long, honey-colored hair into ringlets so it would dry with a curl, still half asleep but motivated by a sense of urgency. It was time to get up and get on my way. I had things to do.

  It wasn’t until I opened the little closet looking for fresh clothes that it hit me. The closet was empty. Not a thing in there. Where were my clothes?

  My heart began to thump a little faster in my chest. Something was wrong. I looked around the room. All I saw were the t-shirt and jeans thrown out on the chair, and a pair of sneakers on the floor. They must have been what I was wearing when I got here.

  But wait. When was that? I thought hard but I couldn’t remember….

  My heart was pounding now. Something was definitely wrong. This felt eerie. I pulled on the jeans, shrugged into the t-shirt, and grabbed my cell phone from the rickety little desk against the wall, scrolling for calls or texts or something…anything. A contact. Information. But there was nothing. The phone didn’t feel familiar. It said it was mine, with my number.

  At least, I thought it was my number. Was it? Was Haley Greco really my name? It was on my phone, and once I’d grabbed the leather purse lying on the floor beside the bed, I hunted inside and came up with a wallet holding one credit card and a driver’s license with that same name on it. But…? Did that seem right? Why couldn’t I remember?

  And that was when I realized what was missing.

  Every one of my memories.

  All gone.

  Now I was gasping for breath, panic pounding in my brain. Wait. This wasn’t right. What could I do? I…I needed help. I needed someone. Who could I turn to? Where could I go? There had to be somewhere, somebody.

  Wait. Calm down. Think this out before you do something stupid. There had to be someone I could call, but the only way I would find the right name was if I took it easy, kept panic at bay. I needed someone, someone who understood what was going on here.

  I just needed to think. Who? Who?

  Maybe the motel office. That was it. I should go to the office. They would have something about me, surely. You had to sign in, didn’t you? You had to pay.

  I grabbed the room key off the little desk and stepped out, looking up and down the area. It was a typical motel parking lot, stretched out along the road for quick access. Scruffy pines lined the entryway, and a dead maple tree stood at the end of the lot, looking like a very large scarecrow. A strange calm seemed to lie like a blanket over everything. There was no one in sight. And then a sound, harsh and loud, made me jump almost out of my skin.

  “Caw! Caw!”

  I clutched my hand over my heart and tried to catch my breath. Looking up, I stared right into the dark black eyes of a huge, ugly raven. That wasn’t going to do me any good. I glared at it, took a deep breath and started quickly toward the motel office, half running, desperate to find someone who could help me.

  I reached it and threw open the door, rushing in, and then coming to an abrupt stop. There was no one there. A radio had been turned on. It was playing old-fashioned country songs. “Jambalaya.” Hank Williams, wasn’t it? Okay, if I could remember that, I could remember anything. Right? I just needed some support. Some information. I was going to be alright.

  “Hello?” I called. “Anyone here?”

  I listened hard. No answer. There was a bell on the check-in desk with a little sign: “Please ring for service”. I rang. The sound seemed to echo up and down the hallway, but no one came. And Hank Williams was still singing.

  I rummaged with the papers on the desk, but nothing made any sense and I couldn’t find a register. By now I was shivering uncontrollably.

  I went back outside and looked up and down the parking strip. Only one car was parked there-a blue compact with a luggage rack. It was parked right in front of the room I’d come out of. Was it mine?

  I walked back slowly. We were far enough off the highway that I couldn’t even hear any cars. Was that a bad thing? What was this, a ghost town? If so, was I…was I the one who was a ghost?

  My teeth were chattering. I folded my arms across my chest and closed my eyes.

  “Calm down,” I ordered myself. “Stop acting like a baby. There’s got to be an explanation. You need to stay calm.”

  I took in a deep breath, then another, and finally I began to get hold of myself. I went back into the room and glanced around, my gaze catching on a manila envelope I hadn’t noticed before. I hesitated, but only for a moment. I was going to open it. I had to see what it had inside, and yet, I hesitated. I had no idea what it was and I wasn’t so sure I really wanted to know. Still, I had to take a chance.

  But first, I stood very still, listening, sensing everything I could gather in, trying to figure out where I was and why this was happening to me.

  Why was I so all alone? Where was everybody? Scenes from all the science fiction movies I’d watched in my childhood, tales of civilization being wiped out, stories of people all alone when the end came--all came flooding back. At least I could remember them. But what about me? Why couldn’t I remember anything about myself?

  We weren’t far from the ocean. I could smell it in the air. But as I looked out for landmarks, I noticed a morning bank of fog was rolling in. Pretty soon it would be even more eerie here. I had to go.

  First, the manila envelope. I pulled open the metal tag and slipped out the papers inside. The first thing was a deed to a café in the town of Moonhaven.

  Moonhaven. I rolled the name around on my tongue but it didn’t speak to me of any significance. And the café. Its name was Greco’s Diner. My name was Greco, or so the phone said. I looked on the deed. Yes, there was the name, Haley Greco. Maybe that really was me.

  There was a ring of keys as well, and one of them was the same make as the car out front.

  Okay. I somehow knew I was meant to take
those keys and start that car and go to Moonhaven and do something with this deed. I didn’t seem to need a list, or written instructions. It was like I’d been born knowing this.

  Okay, so let’s go.

  I pulled my few effects—toothbrush and hairbrush and bottle of shampoo—into the canvas bag I found next to the bed, and headed out.

  The raven was back, sitting on the branch of a tree across the parking strip. This time he didn’t make a sound, but he watched me as I loaded up my car and started out. And then he flew off—strangely enough, in the same direction I was going to take. Odd, wasn’t it?

  “Just a coincidence,” I muttered to myself. “Has to be.”

  The car took off and headed for the highway. I know that makes it sound as though the car was driving itself, and that was exactly what it felt like. I had my hands on the wheel, but the car didn’t seem to need my guidance. It knew where it was going.

  I struggled with that. I’m not usually quite so easy to push around. At least, I don’t think I am. But this was so odd, so scary, I wasn’t ready to fight it yet. Not until I knew a little more about what was going on.

  A sign along the side of the road said “Moonhaven 45 miles”, but it only seemed a minute later when we turned off the highway and took a left, crossing over and heading toward a small town that filled a pretty little valley a few miles from where a rugged cliff overlooked the Pacific Ocean.

  Small, neat farmhouses with picture-perfect flower gardens began to appear as we cruised into town. The town itself was laid out along nice parallel lines, each cottage and bungalow cute and colorful—like a movie set. In fact, the general look was so adorable, I was beginning to have my doubts. Was this place for real?

  We came to the center of town—the car and I-- and the street opened up to make way for a large town square, filled with beautiful trees and rolling grass lawns, with a meandering stream down the middle, and sashaying walking paths cut through on bridges to the other side. My head was on a swivel. For a few moments, I had to wonder if this was some sort of doll set and I’d just wandered out of reality and into Let’s Pretend Land.

  But then real life came back to shake me out of the dream. We pulled up in front of the only ratty looking building in sight. The engine turned off by itself, leaving me to gape at the front of something called Scotty’s Sports Bar and Grill. The place looked decrepit and badly maintained. The paint job might have been left over from pioneer days and one window must have been broken, because a page from an old newspaper and duct tape were all that was visible from my angle. All in all, it was a mess and not at all inviting.

  I pulled out the deed from the manila envelope and looked at the address of the diner I was supposedly owner to. Sure enough. This was the same address. I sighed and sat back, as though waiting for somebody to give me one good reason why I would want to claim this joint.

  “Caw.”

  Startled, I looked up, and sure enough, there was a big black raven. As I watched, he stretched out his wings and rustled the feathers at me, then cawed again. I looked into his big, dark eyes. They looked almost human. I shook my head. Was it the same bird? Not likely. But birds did seem pretty forward around here.

  I looked past the raven, out into the town square. People began to emerge, real human beings. That was something of a relief. Somehow, somewhere, there was going to be an explanation for all this. At least, I certainly hoped so.

  In the meantime, what to do next? I supposed I’d better go into the bar and find out who Scotty was and whether or not he knew I owned this restaurant. Something told me this was going to be an unpleasant surprise to the man—or maybe he knew more about this than I did. But for some reason, I knew it had to be done.

  I got out from behind the wheel and looked at the place again. Why on earth would I want it? Oh well. Time to find out.

  As I mounted the steps to the front door, the sound of heavy metal music played loud came wafting my way. It seemed early for that. But how did I know if this was early morning for those inside? More likely, they just hadn’t gone to bed yet.

  I pulled open the screen door and went in.

  There were three or four men hanging around, along with a waitress and a man behind the bar. It reminded me of a scene from an old Western, where the good guy (that would be me) comes into the saloon and the men at the poker table and the fellow behind the bar and the lady waitress all stop whatever they’re doing and turn to stare at the newcomer. I only wished I’d worn my six guns.

  “Are you open for business?” I asked, not directing the question at anyone special, just a general sort of query.

  A young guy in a backward baseball cap laughed out loud and a dark-haired, handsome man took one look at me and turned away, heading for the door. Only the man behind the bar took the responsibility to answer me. About mid-thirties with a definite beer belly and a permanent sneer, he looked me up and down. I looked him right back and made sure he noticed. He looked like one of those guys who had once been popular in high school, but had lost the theme since then, and was trying to get it back with too much dope or alcohol.

  “We don’t open until 3 in the afternoon,” he told me with a shrug, as if trying to show me my “attitude” would never compare to his “attitude”. And he was probably right, but I wasn’t going to let him see me admit it. “I’m just here with some of my friends,” he said insolently.

  His eyes narrowed as though he felt he’d issued a challenge and was waiting to see how I was going to handle it.

  I held his gaze, but it wasn’t easy. I mean, I could pretend attitude, but I couldn’t really carry it off for any length of time. I had a feeling that the real “me” was something of a wimp. Oh well. Hard to know, since I couldn’t remember.

  “Are you Scotty?” I asked. “The Scotty of the infamous Scotty’s Bar and Grill?”

  His sneer went nastier and he leaned on the counter. “Who wants to know?”

  But before I could answer, one of his buddy’s leaned toward him and said in a loud whisper, “Scotty! What the hell? Don’t you see who this is?”

  Everyone in the place stared at me harder and I waited, kind of interested myself in what identity they were going to come up with.

  Scotty shook his head as though trying to come out of a stupor. “Wait, wait,” he muttered, still staring. “No, it can’t be.”

  The only other woman in the room, a slender lady who might once have been pretty, but now was looking a little faded around the edges, took a step toward me and said, “Haley. Is that really you?”

  I looked at her but her face didn’t register with me. I had to admit, it seemed I must be this Haley person, but if I was, it wasn’t doing me much good.

  “Why the shock?” I asked carefully, hoping to get some information without revealing things from my side of the fence.

  She half laughed and shook her head. “Why honey, they said you were…I mean, there was that accident. They said you….”

  I swallowed hard. I guessed it was time to face it. This town and its people were complete strangers to me, but they didn’t see it that way. They thought they knew who I was. Crazy.

  “They said that I was what? Dead?”

  There was an audible gasp through the room. I even felt a shudder go through me. It wasn’t something I wanted to hear either, but the evidence did seem to be stacking up. They were all surprised to see me walking upright. I could see it in their eyes.

  “As you can see, rumors of my death were premature.” I looked from the woman to the man who seemed to be Scotty. “And I’m wondering what you’re doing in my café.”

  Wow. Another shiver went through me. I had no idea what I was doing here, and the things that kept coming out of my mouth didn’t seem like me at all. But this was happening anyway. Kind of scary—and yet sort of thrilling at the same time.

  “What are you talking about?” Scotty growled, looking shocked and angry at the same time.

  I pulled out the deed and waved it at him. “My na
me, my place,” I said calmly. “Signed on the dotted line.”

  “Hey!” Scotty came across the counter more effortlessly than I could have imagined with that beer belly, and landed right in front of me, his jaw out, his hands in fists, his eyes blazing. “Your mom and dad took off and left the place empty. There was an auction and I got it. So don’t come around here trying to take what’s mine. I got this place fair and square. I’ve got the real deed.”

  The girl was pulling on his arm as though he were a Doberman on a leash. “Come on, Scotty,” she said urgently. “Calm down. Why don’t we all have a drink and talk…..?”

  “No.” He yanked himself away from her, scanning the room desperately. “Hey, where’s Crocker? He was here a minute ago.” He turned back to me. “Never mind. No, I’ve got the real deed. I’m going to find it and I’m going to show it to her.” He waved a finger at me. “I know what her game is. She can’t get away with this.”

  Turning like a lumbering bear, he stormed off into the back. I looked at the others, not sure what I should do about them. Talk to them? Ply them for information? They didn’t look particularly talkative right now. I decided to ignore them. Instead, I looked at the woman and ventured a smile.

  She smiled back, but looked nervous, so I didn’t push it. There was not much time anyway, because Scotty was already coming back.

  “Here you go,” he said, waving an official looking paper at me. “My deed. This place is mine by law. The mayor’s office made sure of that. You can go beg for a hearing or something if you think it will make you feel better. But the mayor’s office is on my side. So pound sand, pilgrim.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever you think you have there, I know the truth. It’s a phony. I’ve come to get my café back and I’m going to win in the end. You might as well get used to it.”

  Fury suffused his face. “Get out,” he yelled at me, pointing toward the door. “Get out now!”

  I looked around the room. The other men, though bleary eyed and bedraggled and a bit worse for wear, looked just as mean and just as crazy. They began to form a half circle behind Scotty. I could see there was no way I was going to win this argument at this time. I was going to have to come back later with reinforcements.