Snow Cold Case: A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery (The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series Book 1)

by M. Z. Andrews

  Johanna’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she scrambled up onto her feet as she climbed up the sofa.

  “Ahhhh!” she screamed, her heart throbbing wildly in her chest. “Rocky!”

  The cat rolled her eyes and jumped off of the coffee table. “Oh, what’s that big buffoon going to do to save you? Lick me to death?”

  “Essy!” hissed another voice in the room. “Be nice.”

  Johanna didn’t think she could take any more, but slowly her head swiveled to her left to see a young woman in a wedding dress standing in her living room.

  “Ahhh!” Johanna screamed again, holding her blanket to her chest while standing on the sofa. “Ahhh!”

  The young woman held out a steadying hand. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulders in smooth waves, and Johanna had the uncanny feeling that she’d seen her before. “Oh, I’m so sorry we scared you. Please! We aren’t going to hurt you!”

  Johanna’s eyes darted around the room as she wondered where she’d put her cell phone. “Siri, call 911!” she shouted, praying that her phone wasn’t buried beneath a pillow somewhere.

  When the familiar Englishman’s voice didn’t answer her, she glanced back at the young woman. “W-where did you come from?” she demanded.

  The woman pointed to the snow globe on the coffee table with the narrow end of a short, ornately decorated wand. “Don’t you recognize me? I came from in there.”

  Johanna’s body trembled as she glanced down at the snow globe and was shocked to suddenly realize that the girl that had been inside the globe, the one wearing the wedding dress only seconds ago, was gone!

  “No, no, no… i-it can’t be… You can’t be her! That’s not possible.”

  The woman sighed. “I’m really sorry we scared you, but yes, I am her.”

  Johanna’s head shook. “Wh-who are you?!”

  The young woman’s emerald green eyes lit up. “Oh, right! How silly of me. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Whitley Snow. You’ve already met my sister, Esmerelda.”

  Johanna’s eyes flickered towards the cat. “Th-the cat is your sister?” Even the words coming out of her mouth sounded ludicrous.

  Whitley smiled. “Twin sister, to be precise.”

  “I’m the good-looking sister,” said Esmerelda, rolling her eyes. “Not that you can tell in my present condition.”

  “And you are?” asked Whitley, extending a hand to Johanna.

  Johanna stared at the young woman’s slim hand uncomfortably. Was she supposed to shake the hand of her brain’s delusional, fantastical concoction? Something about that seemed off.

  “I’m Johanna Hughes,” she finally said, not taking the hand offered. Her forehead creased as she frowned. “I’m so confused. How is it possible that you are here, and she is a cat, a-and you’re sisters?!”

  Whitley smiled at her patiently. “It’s actually a very long story, and I don’t want to bore you with the details. But I hear you like my dress,” she said, changing the subject.

  “Your dress?”

  Whitley motioned to the dress she was wearing. “My wedding dress.”

  Johanna lifted a brow. “Who told you that?”

  “I heard you say it was beautiful,” Whitley explained, swaying her hips to give the dress a little motion before spinning around in it. “I feel like that’s why we were brought together. In fact, I’m sure of it!”

  “My sister thinks she’s a seamstress,” said Esmerelda, jumping off the table. “Do you have any more milk? I’m so thirsty. That antique store owner kept trying to feed me generic brand dry cat food. Do you know how disgusting that stuff is?”

  Whitley lifted a brow. “I am a seamstress. Of course, I didn’t actually make this dress. I only tweaked it.”

  “Tweaked it?” Johanna asked, not sure what to make of everything that was happening.

  Whitley smiled. “I added this sash! And the lace over the bodice and the little cap sleeves. Do you like it? I think it adds a little something extra myself.”

  “It’s very beautiful,” Johanna agreed. “I don’t understand. How is it possible that you were in there and now you’re out here?”

  Whitley giggled. “Let’s not get hung up on those details, shall we? I don’t really know how it all works. Let’s just say it’s a magical snow globe, and I’m here to grant a wish.”

  Slowly Johanna crawled down off the sofa. “Like a genie?”

  Johanna heard Esmerelda choke on a laugh from the kitchen. “No, not like a genie. What an idiot. Like a witch.”

  “Essy, don’t be rude!”

  “Well, she asked a dumb question. Dumb questions are asked by dumb people,” she snapped back to her sister.

  “That wasn’t a dumb question. She shook the globe to make a wish. I can see how she’d think it was like a genie. Rub the lamp, get a wish. Shake the snow globe, get a wish.”

  “Whatever. I’m waiting for my milk,” she snapped impatiently.

  Johanna glanced at Whitley, her eyes round, not sure what she should do. “So…am I supposed to feed the insulting cat?”

  Whitley shrugged. “It’s up to you. I’d make her promise to be nice if you’re going to feed her.”

  Johanna sighed, put her blanket down on the sofa, and went into the kitchen. Pulling the half gallon of milk from her fridge, she looked down at the puffy grey cat. “If I feed you again, do you promise to be nicer?”

  “To who?” asked Esmerelda, lifting the whiskers over one eye suspiciously.

  A chortle escaped Johanna’s lips. “To all of us! To me. To your sister. And especially to Rocky.”

  Esmerelda groaned. “I have to be nice to that overgrown meathead? He’s so gross.”

  Johanna’s jaw dropped. “Uh! Rocky’s not gross! He’s sweet and lovable and kind!”

  “He’s a walking bowl of slobber. Do you know how many times I’ve had to bathe myself since I met the dufus?”

  Johanna put the carton of milk back on the counter. “Okay. Let’s get a few things straight. You can’t call Rocky a dufus and expect me to feed you.”

  The cat stood up and stretched before finally sitting back down and curling her tail around her. “Oh, fine. I won’t call your fleabag a dufus anymore.”

  “You can’t call him a fleabag either,” said Johanna.

  “Ugh. Fine.” She pawed her forehead. “Milk?”

  Johanna lifted the empty saucer from the floor and filled it with milk. “Boy, that clerk was right. You are a salty little thing!”

  “Ugh! That guy was the worst. He kept kicking me out. It’s like, what? Twenty degrees outside, and I have no shoes on, and he wants me to go find a new place to live? Are you kidding me? It’s Christmas! Where’s his Yuletide spirit?”

  “You were intimidating his customers!” argued Whitley. “I don’t blame him one bit.”

  Johanna walked back into her living room. “So you two lived at the antique store together?”

  “We’ve been there for a few months,” said Whitley. “We’ve been bounced around quite a bit over the last year. It’s been exhausting, so we’re both more than thrilled that you brought us home.”

  Johanna didn’t know what to say. She’d brought the snow globe home, not a snarky cat and her weird genie sister. “Yeah, about that…”

  Whitley held out a hand to stop her from saying anything more. “We came to deliver your wish.”

  “My wish,” sighed Johanna. “I wished for a best friend.”

  Whitley’s head bobbed excitedly as she pointed to herself. “Best friend!”

  Johanna’s eyes widened. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re the best friend?”

  Whitley squealed as her green eyes flashed with youthful exuberance. “I think I am!”

  Johanna’s lip curled. “Umm, don’t take this the wrong way, but I was actually wishing for a man.”

  Esmerelda nearly choked on her milk from the kitchen. “Oh, sister, aren’t we all!”

  Whitley’s nose scrunched up as she looked at the wand she
held in one hand. “Yeah, I’ll be honest. I have some magic, but I can’t make men appear out of nowhere. But I can move the furniture so you can vacuum underneath your sofa.”

  She flicked her wand towards the sofa to prove it, and a little fizzle of electricity sputtered out with a staticky pfft sound.

  Whitley frowned and looked at the end of her stick. “Are you kidding me?” She flicked her wand again, and this time nothing at all came out. She looked up into the sky. “We have to do this with no magic?!” She slammed the wand down by her side. “Well, this is just great.”

  Johanna cocked one eyebrow up. “So you’re telling me you can’t make a man magically appear out of nowhere?”

  “If she could, my life would be a heckuva lot better than it is right now,” said Esmerelda.

  Whitley put a hand beside her face. “Don’t mind her, she’s a bit of a man-aholic,” she whispered to Johanna.

  “And going through withdrawals!” shouted Esmerelda from the other room. “Don’t forget, cats have amazing hearing, dear sister.”

  Whitley rolled her eyes and then looked around the room. “This is just too much. I think I need a minute. Do you mind if I sit down?”

  Johanna pointed to the gown. “In that dress?”

  Whitley’s eyes dropped to look at the long layers of white satin. “Oh, right. You know, you really should try this on. I honestly think it’s meant for you. I mean, that’s got to be the reason that we’re here.”

  “To give me a wedding dress?” scoffed Johanna. She looked at the dress. It was beautiful. “I mean, I wish I had a reason to need it. It’s a gorgeous gown, but I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

  Whitley shrugged and wrestled with the zipper behind her. “Neither am I, but I put it on. Aren’t you curious what it would look like on you?”

  Johanna sighed. If she was being honest, she had to admit that she had envisioned herself wearing the dress, but that was before the dress had actually shown up in her living room! “This whole thing just feels surreal.”

  “Surreal?” asked Whitley, still working on trying to reach the zipper. “How so?”

  “Do you need help with that?” asked Johanna.

  Whitley sighed with relief. “Yes! That would be fabulous!”

  Johanna went around behind her and unfastened the three little satin buttons at the top of the dress, then undid the hidden zipper the rest of the way. “There you go.”

  “Oh!” breathed Whitley. “Thank you!” She immediately let the dress fall to the ground.

  Johanna quickly discovered that Whitley had been completely naked under the dress. Johanna put a hand beside her eyes to shield the naked woman from her view.

  “You didn’t come prepared, did you?”

  “To be honest, this is our very first rodeo. I had no idea I was going to be spat out of the globe like that! All of my clothes are in my bedroom, and my bedroom is… well… it’s in there!” She pointed to the snow globe with her wand. “You don’t happen to have something I could wear, do you?”

  Still keeping her eyes off of the naked woman in her apartment, Johanna padded towards her own bedroom. “Right. I’ll just see what I have.”

  Seconds later she returned with a pair of sweatpants, some underwear, a t-shirt, socks, and Rocky. “Will this do?”

  “Yes, perfect. Thank you.” Rocky barked at Whitley as she took the top and pulled it on over her head.

  “Oh. This is Rocky. Rocky, this is Whitley,” said Johanna patiently. Then she added with a whisper, “She’s a figment of my imagination.”

  Whitley smiled at Rocky. “It’s nice to meet you, Rocky,” she said with a cinnamon-roll-sweet voice. She patted his head, changing his opinion of her almost instantaneously. “I’m not a figment of your mommy’s imagination. I’m real. See, you can feel me petting you, can’t you?”

  “Woof!” agreed Rocky.

  “I thought so.” She pulled on the underwear and pants Johanna had given her.

  “And that’s Esmerelda,” Johanna said to Rocky, pointing at the cat in the kitchen.

  A groan escaped Esmerelda’s throat. “Oh, we’ve met. Honestly, not impressed.” She strolled into the living room and looked up at the big dog as he high-stepped around her, unsure of what to make of hearing his little furry playmate suddenly speaking in a human voice. A low rumble formed in his throat.

  “It’s okay, Rock, relax,” said Johanna, calmly scratching his head.

  Esmerelda held a paw up to her nose. “Ugh, the kid stinks. He smells like the love child of a skunk and a pig. What do you feed him anyway?”

  Johanna groaned. She’d just bathed him a few hours ago, thanks to his little evening romp in the mud at the park. Despite that, the cat had a point. Rocky didn’t smell very good. He had a bit of a gas problem. She was working on it, but when he got scared, it seemed to mess with his stomach.

  “It’s because you two freaked him out,” she muttered, wanting to add that they’d freaked her out as well. “He’s got a nervous stomach, and talking cats don’t help.”

  Esmerelda rolled her eyes and bobbed her head towards the gown her sister had just shed. “Whatever. You should try that dress on.”

  Johanna looked down at the cat and lifted a suspicious brow. “Why do you two want me to try the dress on so badly?”

  Whitley smiled and pointed her wand at the dress. When it didn’t do anything, her head lolled back on her shoulders.

  “Ugh, are you kidding? I have to pick up my own clothes from now on? This is not going to be fun.” She walked over to the dress and picked it up, giving it a little shake to loosen the wrinkles. Then she held the dress up to Johanna’s body and smiled. “We just think it would look pretty on you. I’ll tell you what. I’ll make you a deal. If you try on the dress and it fits, I’ll let you keep it.”

  Johanna shook her head as if she were confused. “You’re going to give me a wedding dress? Why in the world would I want a wedding dress? I’m not getting married!”

  “Well, you might get married someday, silly,” said Whitley with a perky little smile.

  Esmerelda jumped up to sit on the arm of the sofa. “Yeah, miracles do happen, I’m told,” she said dryly.

  “Es!” snapped Whitley, sitting down on the little wooden chair next to Johanna’s floor-to-ceiling bookcase and pulling on her socks.

  “Listen, girls. This whole good cop bad cop thing you’ve got going on is entertaining and all, but I’m afraid you’ve got me completely befuddled. The two of you show up in my life, claiming you aren’t a tumor in my head, and you want to be my new best friends, you’ve got a broken magic wand, you somehow made it snow in my apartment, and now you want to give me a wedding dress. I’ve got to be missing something!” said Johanna, feeling like she was going nuts.

  Whitley sighed and slumped back in her seat. “Oh, Hanna—can I call you Hanna?” She didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “I honestly don’t know what’s going on. Esmerelda and I are new to this whole fairy godmother thing. All I know is that I have these dresses in my snow globe and they need homes. You were drawn to my snow globe for a reason, and unfortunately, that’s all I know.”

  “Fairy godmother thing?” chuckled Johanna. “You don’t even have any magic! And that’s what you’re calling yourselves? My fairy godmothers? Who am I, then? Cinderella?”

  “Well, what else would you call us?” pouted Whitley. “Back home they called us witches, but I really find that term offensive. The word witch makes me think of black hats, pumpkins, and evil laughs.” She shuddered. “I like a good hat just as much as the next girl, but pointy hats? Not my style.”

  “Riiight…”

  “Listen, would you please just try on the dress? I have a closet full of dresses that need homes before my sister and I can be set free, and I literally think it’s the reason why we were sent to you.”

  Johanna lifted the snow globe from the coffee table and held it to her face. Squinting, she peered in at the wooden wardrobe stuffed wit
h an assortment of colored dresses. “You have to find homes for all of those dresses?”

  With a pout on her face, Whitley nodded.

  “Or what?”

  Whitley stared at Johanna blankly. “Or else I’m stuck in that globe forever.”

  6

  J ohanna spun around slowly, staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The dress fit like it had been made for her. The sash accentuated her small waist, and the little lace cap sleeves covered enough skin that she didn’t feel naked, but still made her feel feminine and beautiful. The length was perfect, not so long that she would have to lift it to drag it around behind her, but long enough that she felt like a princess.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, unable to take her eyes off of the dress.

  Whitley’s hands clasped in front of her and she fought back a squeal. “Oh, Hanna! You look gorgeous!”

  “When’s the last time you washed your hair?” asked Esmerelda from the floor.

  “Es!”

  “What?! It looks like she poured a quart of motor oil on it and then let it dry naturally.”

  Johanna winced as a hand went to her head self-consciously. “I read it was bad to wash your hair every day.”

  “Yeah, you don’t have to wash it every day, but you should certainly wash it more than once a year!”

  Johanna lowered her brows and scowled at the cat. “I thought you were going to start being nicer.”

  “Were those my exact words? No. And I certainly didn’t promise to lie.”

  “Never mind my sister,” said Whitley, her green eyes shining. “The point is, the dress is beautiful. It fits you like a glove! So, it’s all yours if you want it!”

  Johanna lifted a shoulder. She loved the dress, but she also didn’t want these girls to think that they were doing her any kind of favor. She didn’t need the dress. “It’s alright.”

  Whitley’s face dropped. “You don’t love it?”

  Johanna mustered up a half-smile. “No, I do. I just don’t need it or anything. I’m probably never going to get married.”

  Esmerelda looked up at her then. “How old are you anyway? You’ve gotta be knockin’ on thirty.”