Twistchapel Witch Cozy Mystery Box Set: Books 1-4 plus Christmas Short

by Alexandria Westbay

  "Why did you come here, again?" I asked. I remembered she said it was complicated, and I really wanted to know. It had to be juicy.

  "It's complicated. I'll explain some other time," she said.

  Drat. It had to be super juicy.

  "Another time," I said.

  "Anyway, when I came here I went to Mr. Spinner to ask for a loan, and was immediately denied. I had heard from a few other people that he was notoriously harsh, but I didn't understand why he would turn me down before hearing by business plan or seeing any numbers and projections. So, I did some digging."

  "What did you find?" I asked.

  "It turns out that he has a daughter, named Sophie Mann."

  "That's true. I just talked with her yesterday." Got yelled at by her was also a way to describe what happened, but Jill didn't need to know that.

  "Do you know what she does?"

  "She's a stay at home mom."

  "For now," said Jill. "However, it turns out that she is enrolled in an online beauty school. It partners with the cosmetology school I went to, and I was able to look her up in the directory."

  "Wait. But if she was taking classes, surely her dad was okay with the concept of a beauty salon then, right? Why would he deny you then?"

  "My question exactly," she said. "I looked up her name on the state's business website, and found that she recently started a company: Sophie's Beauty Shop."

  "Really?" I gasped. Sophie was set for life with the money her dad made and seemed to really enjoy staying at home with the kids. I suppose with both kids at school during the days, she was looking for something else to do. I had no idea she wanted to run her own shop. "So Mr. Spinner turned you down because he knew you'd be competition for her in town?"

  "Exactly my thoughts," she said. "So I went to the bonfire and confronted him. I told him that I just wanted a fair chance at getting the loan, or I would expose his conflict of interest. He blew up at me, saying he would never even look at my information."

  "I can't believe it..." I said.

  "I couldn't either," said Jill, throwing her hands up. "He said he already had one piece of bad news to tell his daughter, he couldn't bare to add this to it."

  I sat up a little straighter. "He already had another piece of bad news?"

  "That's what he said."

  "Do you know what it was?"

  "No. He just started yelling after he said it."

  "Interesting..." I said. This was a lot to think about. Everything kept pointing back to Sophie... but what would her motive be? She was doing fine financially, and it sounded like her dad would either give or loan her the money to open up her beauty shop. Could he have told her the bad news, and then she lashed out at him in anger?

  Jill glanced down at her cell phone. "Oh shoot, it's later than I thought it was. I really need to get going."

  "Okay, yeah. Thanks for talking with me, Jill," I said, standing up as she did.

  "Not a problem. You have a really nice market, by the way," she smiled as she left. "Oh, and please don't say anything to the detective."

  "Don't worry, I won't," I said, sitting back down.

  "Want to bounce ideas off of each other?" asked Bart hopefully.

  "Not right now, I've got to finish some work. Let's talk about it when we get home," I said.

  Bart let out a passive aggressive sigh, but laid down on the couch quietly.

  I finished up the rest of my paperwork for a few hours, then left for home. This was so confusing. What could Mr. Spinner have meant when he said he already had enough bad news for Sophie? Maybe I should try talking to her again.

  It was dark out by the time I pulled into my house and got out of the car.

  "What're you thinking?" asked Bart, hopping out of the car and walking with me.

  "This whole thing is so bizarre," I said, clicking the lock button on my key fob over and over. "Every time I think I have an idea of what's going on, something new pops up."

  "That's the way it works. Everyone's got secrets, regardless if they are regular people or the paranormal."

  We walked up to my gate, which was left ajar.

  "That's strange," I said as the two of us walked through. "Did I forget to close the gate this morning?"

  "No... I remember you closed it before I was next to you, so I had to walk through it..." mumbled Bart as I closed it.

  "You don't think-"

  "Grrrrr," came a low growl from behind me.

  "Bart. Please tell me that's you growling," I said, afraid to look.

  "I hate to break it to you, Zoe," he said. "It's not."

  I turned around and stifled a scream.

  A giant wolf, 6 feet tall, stood between me and my house.

  Chapter 8

  "Stay calm... stay calm..." I said in a high pitched voice over and over. I wasn't sure if I was talking to the wolf, myself, or Bart. I hoped it would work for all three of us.

  The giant wolf was covered in black fur and blended in with the darkness. It's blue eyes locked on me and didn't leave.

  Bart hopped in between me and the beast, hissing at it.

  "Zoey, this isn't a normal wolf," he said. "It's a werewolf."

  "A werewolf?!" I said, taking a step back and pressing up into the gate. I had heard of werewolves before, but thought for sure none existed near us.

  "What do you want?" hissed Bart at the giant wolf.

  "I don't mean to frighten you," To my surprise, the wolf could speak. I assumed they could only talk in their human form. "I took this form to better hide in the shadows. I'd like to talk inside, for secrecy sake."

  "Yeah right," hiss Bart. "There's no way you're-"

  "Fine," I said.

  "What?" asked Bart.

  "I'm fine with that. If he wanted to kill me, he'd have done it already," I said, walking up to my front door. "Being inside won't change anything."

  Bart followed me but kept his eyes on the werewolf.

  "Would you mind changing back to a human though? I don't want you to track mud in on four paws," I said, unlocking the door. "Well, assuming you'll still have your clothes."

  "Don't worry, I'll still be clothed," said the werewolf. I watched in wonder as the large wolf began to stand on its two hind legs, the black fur melting into skin and clothing.

  It took just a few seconds to revert back to his human form. I wasn't surprised when we finally could see he was the man in the trench coat from earlier.

  "Come on in," I offered.

  "Thank you," nodded the man, coming into the house. "I apologize for approaching all of this in such a manner, but it's best to not be seen by others."

  "What do you want from us, wolfie?" asked Bart. "Don't mistake Zoey's kindness for weakness. She is one of the most powerful witches alive."

  If I didn't know better, I would've believed him.

  "Please, come have a seat," I offered, walking into the living room. I pointed to the table as I walked over the fridge. "Can I get you something to drink?"

  "Not at this time, thank you," said the werewolf, sitting down at my living room table. It had been a weird past couple of days. "My name is Derek, by the way."

  "Nice to meet you Derek," I said, grabbing a water and coming to sit down. I didn't know where to start, so I started at the most obvious. "So, you can see Bart?"

  "Yes. Werewolves that are as old and powerful as I are able to see all spirits. I take it he is your familiar?"

  "You'd be correct."

  "Why does he look like a cat?"

  "What do you transform into an ugly dog?" shot back Bart.

  "Uh, it's kind of a sore subject for some reason," I said. "Why are you such a giant wolf? Do all werewolves look the same when they transform?"

  Derek nodded. "Yes. We are mostly indistinguishable, except for any scars that we received while in that form."

  "It's always black fur? Never brown or gray?"

  Derek nodded again.

  "What's brought you to Twistchapel?" I asked.

&nb
sp; "Well, I've lived here for about five years now," he said.

  "Really? I've never seen you before..." I was suspicious. While I didn't know everyone in town, I could typically recognize people's faces.

  "Good," said Derek gruffly. "I take pride in not being seen."

  "That's not creepy sounding," said Bart.

  "I live out in the country," said the werewolf. "I moved here after my organization heard there were a couple of rogue werewolves in the area."

  "Rogue werewolves? Organization?" I asked. There was a lot more going on here than I thought.

  "Werewolves have packs that they work within, who have grown through the centuries," said Bart. "Not that surprising they've upgraded to 'organizations' in the current day and age."

  "Your familiar is correct," nodded Derek. "Unfortunately, a few of our group lost control, and ran off, infecting innocent people. I was sent out to hunt them down."

  That gave me an idea.

  "Is it possible one of the rogue werewolves killed Mr. Spinner?"

  "No. The last of the rogues around here were taken out a few months ago."

  "Drat... I was hoping there could be something there," I sighed. "Okay, well I've probably bombarded you with enough questions for now. What brings you here? Why do you want to talk with me?"

  "There has been a grave mistake," said Derek. "Thomas is innocent."

  "How do you know that?" I asked.

  "He was with me the night of the murder."

  "He was with you? What are you saying?" I asked.

  "Thomas is a werewolf, too," he said.

  "W-What?!" I blurted out. "Wouldn't Bart have known? I thought you could see creatures from the Other!"

  "That's true, but... I wouldn't have noticed," said Bart with a shake of his head. "Humans that are infected with a virus or power from the Other are harder to notice, unless they are using their abilities. Just like I didn't notice Derek was a werewolf until after he was in his wolf form."

  That made sense. I would need to remember that in the future. I shouldn't be banking on Bart to let me know whenever someone or something paranormal is near by.

  "What were you and Thomas doing?" I asked Derek.

  "I had tracked down the last rogue werewolf a few months ago, and as I got to him, he had already claimed Thomas as his last victim. I think the smell of blood and meat on Thomas' clothes attracted the beast," Derek shook his head. "It was very unlucky."

  "That sucks," said Bart. "Poor Thomas."

  "It is what it is, now," continued the werewolf. "Anyway, we make it a habit of helping out new werewolves. The first few weeks can be particularly rough, especially at night. Transforming takes some getting used to, and gaining control of your wolf form can be difficult, especially if they are left untrained."

  "So you were training him the night of the murder?" I said.

  Derek nodded.

  "Wait... if Thomas isn't done training on how to control his abilities..." said Bart, processing aloud.

  My eyes widened as I realized where he was going with this. "Are the police and other prisoners in danger?! Is Thomas going to transform and kill them?"

  "No, they're fine," said Derek, keeping calm while Bart and I weren't. "We're nearly finished. All we really have left to go over is some hierarchy things within the organization, and how to get in contact with us if he needs us."

  "That's good to hear," I said, taking a breath.

  "Do the police have any other leads on who the murderer is?" asked Derek.

  "Not really. To be honest, I've been looking into it myself," I said. "I've known Thomas for a long time, and thought it couldn't be him. You just cemented it." I shouldn't have doubted Thomas. I needed to figure this out soon, or there may be no saving him.

  "Good. It's nice to hear that Thomas has friends looking out for him. I wish I could be more involved, but it's best if I keep my distance. We typically try to stay out of sight from normal humans. They don't exactly act kindly towards us when we are found out."

  "Understandable," I said.

  "I'll let you know if I can find anything else out. My hope is that Thomas will be found innocent soon, and we can finish up our training. I'm needed in other areas."

  "Sounds good," I said, following him to the door. "Next time you need to talk, feel free to not hide in the shadows of my home as a wolf. A simple hello or wave would work."

  "Understood," said Derek as he walked out of the house. "Be careful, Miss Foster. You and Thomas aren't the only people in town that are hiding paranormal secrets."

  "Will do," I said, closing the door.

  That seemed ominous.

  "Werewolves aren't as scary as I thought," I said, making my way to my bedroom.

  "You seemed pretty scared at first," said Bart, hopping up on my bed and grabbing the remote.

  "Still. He seemed nice. He also gave us some interesting information."

  "Do we believe a werewolf, though?" asked Bart.

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "They are known for being very secretive," he said, running a paw over his ear. "It is very unlike them to just freely give away so many details."

  "Doesn't that seem a little stereotypical?" I asked. I always thought Bart was more open minded on these things.

  "I'm just telling you what I know," he said, raising his front paws innocently. "I wouldn't be surprised if there were other werewolves in town."

  "Really?"

  Bart nodded. "I doubt Thomas was the only one bitten."

  "Wouldn't Derek have told us about other ones?" I asked.

  "Unlikely. It seems like he is somewhat important in his pack. He knows better than to name others of his kind to outsiders."

  I didn't want to believe him, but Bart was probably right. Derek wasn't very forthcoming with mentioning Thomas was a werewolf. If the butcher wasn't the prime suspect, then Derek probably wouldn't have even mentioned it.

  "Have you thought about talking to the detective again?"

  "I'm not sure. It might not be a bad idea to see if he's come up with anything more," I pondered. It was possible he'd have more information that I didn't. It probably wouldn't hurt to talk with Drake tomorrow. "Either way, I'm hitting the sack," I said. "I wasn't really planning on hanging out with a werewolf tonight."

  "Welcome to the exciting side of life," laughed Bart. "Speaking of which... I think the finale of one of my shows is tonight!"

  Chapter 9

  It occurred to me as I walked in that I had never actually been to Twistchapel City Police Station before. I've never done anything illegal before, and no one I knew ever had a serious run in with the law. The most I've had were a couple of speeding tickets, which I just paid through the mail.

  The station was located on the other side of downtown from me, but was still in walking distance. It was a stand alone building with police cars parked all around. While Twistchapel wasn't a very large or dangerous town, we had probably thirty policeman and women.

  I walked in the front door and approached the front desk. There were several chairs in the waiting room, several of which were occupied by very tired looking people. A man with long hair in a ponytail smiled at me as I walked by. I gave a nervous smile back, raking my brain to think if I knew the man. I was pretty sure I didn't.

  "You see that guy looking at you?" whispered Bart. "Don't freak out, but I'm getting somewhat of an Other vibe from him. I'm pretty sure he can see me."

  I subtly nodded, glancing back at the man. He was still staring at me. Would he try to do anything while we were out in the open? Was I just paranoid after yesterday?

  "Hello, Miss," said the policeman behind the counter. He was staring at the computer screen and didn't bother looking up at me. "How can we help you today?"

  I didn't want to get turned away or told to wait. I definitely wasn't going to sit next to Mr. Ponytail. If Drake wasn't in, then I was going to have to leave. Maybe there was another way out besides the front door?

  "Detective Drake is
expecting me," I said. When the policeman continued typing, I added, "It's urgent."

  "Sure," said the policeman, not taking his eyes off the screen. "He's down the hall on the left in room 107. You can just head there now."

  I thanked the man and hurried down the hall.

  "You setup a meeting with the detective?" asked Bart.

  "Of course not!" I whispered. "I just didn't want to go back to where that waiting room guy was."

  "Look at you, being all mischievous!" smiled Bart. "I'm proud of you."

  "Shut up," I whispered back. I could feel my face blushing slightly. This was exciting.

  I got to room 107 and swung the door open.

  Detective Drake was leaning back in his chair, reading through a few papers in front of an open folder.

  "Zoey?" asked a surprised Drake, standing up suddenly and slamming his knee against his desk. The desk wobbled, knocking over his mug of coffee, as he grunted and grabbed his knee. "What are you doing here?"

  "Hello, Drake," I said confidently. "I came to see how things were progressing on the murder case of Mr. Spinner."

  "Ah, I shouldn't be surprised," he smirked, cleaning off his desk with some paper towels. "I heard a nasty little rumor that you interrogated his daughter, and were then kicked out of her house."

  "Well, that-"

  "I thought I said to stick to your grocery business? I don't really have time for this."

  "He did say that," said Bart.

  I shot Bart a look before turning back to the detective.

  "I only went to talk to her because you arrested an innocent man before insinuating that I would get in trouble as well."

  Drake let out at sigh and wiped his hands on some paper towels. "Look, I need to go get some more coffee. There's a shop a block down from here. I'll humor you until we get back."

  Well, that was more than I was expecting. Granted, I wasn't expecting anything, really.

  He walked me out and locked the door to his office.

  "Are we going through the front?" I asked.

  "Were you planing on bursting through a wall instead, screaming 'oh yeah?'" he laughed.

  "Not quite," I smiled. "More seriously, there was a strange man in a ponytail who was giving me a weird vibe when we came in. I was wondering if when we walk back through, if you could let me know if you recognize him?"