Miss Frost Ices The Imp: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 2)

by Kristen Painter

“How about that,” Deputy Blythe said. “On my way. Over and out.”

  Birdie put the radio down. “Like I was saying, your cat being able to talk isn’t the only strange thing that’s happened this morning, but then, this is Nocturne Falls. You just never know in a town like this.” She sighed. “I’ll reach out to Francine and see what I can set up. Leave me your number, and I’ll call you when I know something.”

  I pulled out one of my brand new business cards and handed it over. Right there under Jayne Frost, Manager was my cell number. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”

  “I’m happy to help. My nephew, Charlie, loves to visit your shop and seeing you is a good reminder that I haven’t taken him in a while. I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”

  “Soon, then.”

  Greyson and I said good-bye and were back on the sidewalk a few moments later. I turned to him as we headed for the store and my apartment. “What if this doesn’t have anything to do with the box? What if whatever caused that woman to turn blue is behind Spider’s new language skills?”

  He seemed to think that over for a second. “Could be. But the reverse could also be true. What if the reason Spider can talk is also the reason Piper turned blue?”

  “I don’t know. Spider said it was because I’d wished for it. I definitely didn’t wish for a woman I’ve never met to change colors.”

  He snorted softly. “I certainly hope not.”

  Greyson walked me to the warehouse door and said good-bye to me there with a too-brief kiss. While I replayed that, I went through the vestibule that held the Nocturne Falls employees’ only elevator (off limits to everyone else since it led down to a secret area of the town) and into the warehouse that held all the stock for the toy store, the employee break room, my office and the elevator that led to the apartments above.

  I thought about going up to mine for a moment, maybe see if Spider was still talking, but I was already overdue to start my paperwork. There was only one more thing to take care of before I got those inventory sheets under control.

  I veered right and straight into the shop. I could sense the magic in play that was causing the snow to fall in the store. I wove my own through it, taking on the heavy lifting of the shimmer, which was what we called that kind of magic.

  Juniper was at the counter bagging a family’s items. I waited until she was done and the family was on their way out to put the bag from Mummy’s into her hands. “Here you go.”

  She closed her eyes and inhaled. “Cinnamon roll. And I didn’t even ask.”

  “Yep.”

  She grinned and tucked the bag under the counter. “You’re the best. And I’m not just saying that because you’re my boss now.”

  I laughed. “Sure. How’s it going? You need me for anything?”

  “Nope, we’re good. I felt you take on some of the shimmer. Thanks for that.”

  I looked toward the back of the store. “And Kip? How’s he doing?”

  “Kip is great. I think he’s ready to be on the register.”

  “Go ahead and let him, then. You’re here, so if he runs into any issues, you can help him.”

  “You got it. You headed into your office?”

  I nodded. “I’m hoping to do four hours’ worth of paperwork in two. Think I can?”

  “I don’t know.” She cocked her head, a coy look on her face. “Does that include schedules for next week?”

  I groaned. “Make that five hours of paperwork. I forgot about that. Which reminds me, I need to see what’s going on with our new hire.”

  “Guy or girl?”

  “I don’t know. My dad was supposed to tell me today.” And just like that, I did have to run back up to the apartment. “Okay, if you need me, you know where to find me.”

  Juniper gave me a thumbs-up as Kip came up to the counter.

  I gave them both a wave. “Later.”

  I left them to their work and about two minutes later was walking into my place. Spider wasn’t immediately visible, which meant he was probably sleeping in one of his current favorite spots, the walk-in closet or the bathroom sink.

  I opened the fridge to get a Dr Pepper and stopped mid-reach. The six-pack was full. I could have sworn I’d only left five bottles in there this morning. I’d taken the sixth one into the shower. Had I imagined that?

  I closed the fridge and checked my recycling bin. The empty bottle sat right on top. Huh. That was weird. But right on track for how today was going.

  I got my drink and headed for the couch and my snow globe. I twisted off the top of the DP and took a long sip as I shook the globe.

  The snow flew, and some seconds later, my dad’s face appeared. “Hi, honey. How’s it going?”

  “Good. How are you and Mom?”

  “We’re great. And it’s good to hear from you, but I don’t have too much time to talk, unfortunately. I have to meet your uncle at the stables to look at how training the new reindeer is going.”

  “No problem. Tell Uncle Kris I said hi.”

  He smiled. “You must have called about something. What is it, honey? I can spare a few minutes.”

  “I’ll be quick. Does ER have the name of the new employee yet?” I’d sent three acceptable possibilities last week to Elf Resources. It was their job to figure out who was the most available and where they were on the wait list, then contact whoever was in the top spot, give them the good news and make all the necessary arrangements. Being a Santa’s Workshop employee was a pretty sought-after job.

  “Not yet. I’ll get that for you by next week, I promise. Even if I have to go down there myself.”

  I grinned. “That’ll shake them up.” Not that my dad wasn’t a hands-on kind of guy. He was, but anytime the Winter King paid a personal visit to a department, it was a notable event.

  “Anything else?”

  “Any chance I can get another snow globe? Now that the office is mine, it would be nice to have one down there too. It would make it easier for me to contact you instead of having to run up to my apartment all the time.”

  He nodded. “Good idea. I’ll send one through the Santa’s Bag today. I’ll make sure the box has your name on it so it’s not mixed up with any inventory.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He hesitated. “I do need to get going, but since I have you, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Sure.”

  He smiled. “Your mom and I know you can’t come home. You’re too busy. But we’d like to come for a visit.” He held his hands up. “Not immediately. You’re still settling in, and we don’t want to complicate that process for you. But maybe in a month. You don’t have to answer now, just give it some thought and let me know.”

  “I don’t need to think about it. There’s plenty of room for you in the guest apartment. And Mom would love some of the stores here.” It would be great to see them. I had a good relationship with my parents, and it would be a lie to say I didn’t miss them. “A month from now sounds good. Things will be much smoother in a few more weeks.”

  And maybe Spider wouldn’t be talking by then. Because I could only imagine what kinds of things he might say to my parents. Jayne eats doughnuts for dinner. Or, That vampire your daughter likes to kiss brought me a nice catnip mouse.

  Yeah. No.

  “Great,” my dad said. “Your mom will be happy to hear that. Do you need anything else?”

  “No, I’m good.” They’d already sent the rest of my summer clothes, which wasn’t much, through the Santa’s Bag. “I bought some stuff for the apartment with the money you sent me. Much appreciated.”

  “Happy to do it. If you need extra—”

  “Nope. My salary is more than enough.”

  He laughed softly. “Jay, you’re the Winter Princess. It’s okay to ask. Or want. You don’t even have a car.”

  “No, but I have the company bikes in the warehouse, and if I need to go farther, I just call iRyde.” Not that I had any plans to be sp
ending money on that service for a while. “Besides, we both know my driver’s license is a poor indicator of my ability to drive.” It was really just for identification purposes, having been obtained in a somewhat magical manner. Technically, I wasn’t even a resident of Alaska.

  Now, a sleigh pulled by reindeer? I could hold my own against just about any other winter elf who wanted to challenge me to that race.

  “All right, honey. But promise me that if you need something, you’ll ask.”

  “I will. Love you. Go meet Uncle Kris before he tracks you down.”

  “On my way. Love you too.”

  The snow settled, and he was gone.

  I sighed happily and picked up my Dr Pepper. It would be fun to show my parents my new hometown.

  I was about to head out when I got the urge to check on Spider. Maybe the talking thing had been a temporary fluke. Like a weird drift of random magic had caught him. As I’d heard several times this morning, anything was possible in this town.

  I walked toward the bedroom to look in the closet. “Spider?”

  A sleepy meow answered me.

  I found him on the shoe shelf second up from the floor. The shelf was empty, because even with the new pairs of flip-flops I’d recently purchased, I didn’t have enough shoes to fill it. He rolled over to look at me upside down. Maybe he was back to being a regular cat. “Hey, baby.” I rubbed his now-exposed tummy. “Just checking on you.”

  He closed his eyes and purred. “Spider likes scratches.”

  So much for that. “You talking is weird. I just have to say that.”

  He stopped purring and looked at me. “No more talking?”

  “No, that doesn’t seem fair to you. I guess you don’t have any more thoughts on how this happened, huh?”

  The purring started up again as I scratched under his chin, causing his answer to vibrate out of him. “No-o-o-o.”

  “Okay, worth a shot.” I stood up. “I have to go to the office. Cooper will be coming over for dinner, just so you know.”

  Spider didn’t say anything. He was either asleep or didn’t care. Either way, I was starting to feel very much like I had a roommate.

  Once I got to my office, settled behind my desk and dug into the workload that needed doing, Spider’s newfound ability was temporarily forgotten. Work was good for clearing the mind of all other thoughts. Or at least, pushing them off to a dark corner.

  I decided to do the schedule tomorrow. I didn’t have the name of the new employee or when they were arriving, anyway. The inventories weren’t anything major, just lots of checking and double-checking to make sure my order sheets were right.

  Once those were done, I put them in an official correspondence envelope (red eight-and-a-half-by-eleven) and walked it to the Santa’s Bag.

  Every Santa’s Workshop had one. Naturally, the original was carried by my uncle Kris on Christmas Eve, but these were modeled after that one and used the same magic. They were the same shape and size, about three feet by four feet—if a red velvet sack could be measured that way. And they were bigger on the inside. Much bigger. Like a TARDIS.

  But no, Uncle Kris is not a Time Lord. Just stopping that rumor before it starts.

  The bags always kept their upright shape too, although it was easy to see when there was something in them. If they were full, they bulged. Even if it was one tiny block or a solitary sheet of paper. If they were empty, the sides sagged inward.

  Ours was empty at the moment. I loosened the golden drawstring around the top, opened the sack and dropped the envelope in.

  The sides puffed out with a soft whoosh, then slumped in again as someone on the North Pole side took out my envelope. In a day or two, our bag would be full with the orders I’d just sent through.

  I tied the bag up and was a few steps away when I heard the whoosh again. I looked back to see the sides bulging.

  When I dug into the sack, I found a large box with my name on it. I smiled at my mom’s swirly handwriting.

  I grabbed the box, which was surprisingly heavy, and took it back to my office. It wasn’t even halfway open when I smelled the sugar. My mother had sent goodies. My mouth started to water as I took out the first of three containers.

  Number one held my mom’s famous snickerdoodle toffee cookies. You haven’t had cookies until you’ve had cookies baked by Santa Claus’s sister. Not saying my aunt Martha can’t bake—she totally can. But my mom’s cookies are kind of world class. How do you think my uncle Kris developed such a hankering for them?

  Container number two was heavy with eggnog fudge. That was Aunt Martha’s specialty, and it was like Christmas in your mouth. I felt all warm inside knowing my family had thought of me. Obviously, they’d been planning to send me a care package. Me asking for another snow globe was just a happy coincidence.

  Container three was the second snow globe. I unwound the bubble wrap keeping it safe and found a little handwritten note on my dad’s official stationery. This means we’re going to talk more, you know.

  I laughed. “I know.”

  I set it on the corner of my desk, next to the picture of my parents. It looked nice there, even if an empty snow globe was a little odd.

  Work—bills this time—kept me occupied until Juniper stuck her head in. “Hey, you busy? I don’t want to interrupt.”

  “No, I can take a break. What’s up?”

  “Just wanted to see if you needed anything from the Shop-n-Save for your dinner tonight with Cooper. I’m going to run over there since my shift is over.”

  I looked at the time. “It’s five o’clock? Snowballs, I did not mean to work that long.” I jumped up and grabbed my purse. The goodies could stay in my office, especially because I’d eaten the last of my gummy bears while doing my paperwork. “I do need stuff for dinner tonight, but I’ll go with you. The rest of this can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Excellent.”

  We took two company bikes and rode to the grocery store. Ten minutes later, we were in the aisles and filling a buggy. Not too much, of course, but the company bikes had baskets, so between us we’d have no problem getting everything home.

  And I’d made my life easier by buying most of Spider’s necessities at the pet store down the street from the warehouse. It was a little more expensive, but the convenience factor outweighed the cost bump. You try biking while balancing a twenty-pound jug of litter. Nothing about living in the North Pole prepared me for that.

  I tossed a box of spaghetti into the cart, then picked out a jar of sauce. “Have you talked to Pete lately?”

  Juniper nodded. “We’re going to Café Claude this weekend.”

  “Oh, excellent. It’s a great place.”

  Juniper pushed the buggy as we walked to the meat counter. “It’s kind of spendy, though, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not that bad. And Pete’s a pharmacist. I think they make decent money.” I nudged her. “Speaking of, I’m promoting you to first-shift manager. And Buttercup to second-shift manager. You’ll both be getting a raise.”

  Juni let out a little squeal. “That’s awesome, thank you!”

  I grinned. It was nice to be able to do that. Definitely one of the perks of the job. “It’ll be effective this pay period.”

  “I’m so happy. Thanks!”

  “You both earned it. And frankly, you were overdue.” I picked up a pack of ground beef to add to the sauce. Cooper was a big guy with an appetite to match. I couldn’t invite him over for dinner and not feed him something substantial. “I need garlic bread and one of those summer fruit tarts from the bakery.”

  She turned the cart in that direction. “Don’t you think the ones from Delaney’s are better?”

  “Definitely, but I worked too long and don’t have time to run down there now.” The tiramisu would have to wait. “And I’m not trying to impress Cooper too much. This is just a thanks for his help this morning, not a let’s-get-back-together dinner.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot that you’re pretending yo
u don’t like him as much as you do.”

  I shot her a look as we walked into the baked-goods section. “I can see that promotion has gone right to your head.”

  She stuck her tongue out at me and went to get some breakfast pastries while I picked out a berry tart and a loaf of ready-made parmesan garlic bread.

  We grabbed a few more things, hit the checkout and were cycling home a few minutes later. We parted in the hall, each of us loaded down with bags that made unlocking our doors harder than normal.

  I got my stuff inside and set my bags on the kitchen counter. “Spider, I’m home.” It seemed like the thing to do. I heard a meow in return.

  I unpacked my groceries. Besides the fixings for the evening’s dinner, I’d gotten a dozen chocolate doughnuts (naturally), three trays of frozen mac-n-cheese, which was my current food rut, some nice cheese and a box of wheat crackers. I figured I could put the cheese and crackers out for an appetizer.

  Biking had made me sweaty (the fact that it was August in Georgia was also a contributing factor), so I went to shower and freshen up.

  As I was about to strip down and jump into the hot water, Spider strolled in. “Spider hungry.”

  “I’m about to get naked here.”

  “What’s naked?”

  “You know…nothing but skin covering you. Er, fur.”

  “Is Spider naked?”

  “Uh…sort of.” I wasn’t mentally prepared to have this conversation with my cat. “What did you want again?”

  He let out a loud yowl. “Hungry.”

  “All right, let’s go fix that.” I walked to the little spot at the end of the kitchen counter where his feeding station was set up to see what he needed. The velvet Elvis really did snazz it up. Spider’s dry food bowl was pretty full, but he’d eaten through the bits in the middle so that the bottom of the bowl was visible. I gave it a little shake to redistribute the kibble.

  He trotted over and looked inside. “Thanks.” Then he started eating.

  I rolled my eyes and went to take my shower, fairly certain that Spider’s ability to talk hadn’t made him any smarter. His little cat brain seemed to process things the same way as before. And he clearly didn’t care what I was wearing, or not wearing.