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

by Alexandria Westbay

  “Interesting,” I said. That gave me an idea. “I believe Dante wanted to strengthen relations with the werewolves if he won. Is that true?”

  Allen nodded.

  “Good to know.”

  “That’s why I think it was probably an outside source,” said Allen. “What Dante wanted was good for not just the vampires, but werewolves, too. An illegal vampire hunter makes the most sense.”

  “The council says there hasn’t been any reports of vampire hunters around here in years,” I said.

  “They haven’t been keeping good contact with the other vampire towns,” he said. “They’ve grown lax with their position and how things have been going recently. It shouldn’t be that surprising that one of ours was murdered by an outsider.”

  “So you don’t think it was a vampire?” I asked.

  “I would be very surprised if it was,” he shrugged. “What would the motive be?”

  “Political.”

  “Then run against Dante for the fourth council seat. Or pay someone else to. No one has stepped up to run since Dante’s death. It is beginning to look like there won’t be a new council member.”

  “What if they were already a council member?” I asked.

  Allen looked around us and then leaned in close. “What are you talking about?”

  “Julius,” I whispered. “He didn’t want there to be peace with the werewolves. That was his motive for getting rid of Dante.”

  Allen thought it over for a moment, walking back and forth in a line.

  “No,” he concluded with a sigh. “The council was having a late meeting the day of the murder. He wouldn’t have been able to sneak out without Konstantin or Darius noticing.”

  “Oh,” I said, kicking at some blades of grass. “That’s a good alibi.”

  “I like where your head’s at though,” smiled Allen. “No one is off limits!”

  “Maybe it was you?” I asked.

  Allen winked at me. “Who’s to say it wasn’t?”

  A woman screamed in the distance.

  Allen and I looked at each other.

  I took off in the direction of the shout, trying to figure out where the woman was at. Where could she be at? Why was a woman out here alone?

  Looking back over my shoulder, I saw Allen walking at a regular pace after me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, slowing down. “Someone’s in trouble! They could use our help!”

  Allen shook his head somberly. “It’s too late. That’s an angel’s shout.”

  I suddenly remembered the last time I heard that scream, and realized he was right. Someone has died, and it was paranormal.

  I still wanted to be on the scene as quickly as I could, so I rushed on ahead. I found the body near the shack, away from all the cars.

  There was a large wooden stake sticking out of it.

  I knew the victim.

  “No way…” mumbled Bart, looking down at the body with me.

  “Allen… I’m so sorry,” I said, looking back at him as I heard him approach.

  “You know who it is?” he asked, surprised. He moved past me to take a look, and his shoulders dropped when he recognized him.

  Konstantin, the eldest of the vampire council, was dead.

  Chapter 8

  The next night, I left work and drove to the Twistchapel Bowling Alley.

  Things were not going well.

  One of the vampires running for council was dead, one of the council members was dead, and I had no strong leads. After finding Konstantin’s body, we got Rufinus to come help us. Apparently, vampires can’t even touch wooden stakes without it burning their skin, so I had to be the one to remove it.

  I’ll spare the details.

  After getting the body back down into Crestwood, the vampires were furious. They wanted justice. Theoretically it could’ve been a vampire who used the stake while wearing gloves, but that would’ve added risk to it slipping and nicking part of their skin. It would’ve been a very dangerous weapon for them to use. Allen and Rufinus confirmed it was a favorite weapon of vampire hunters, but Rufinus had his doubts that one had managed to find Crestwood, let alone overpower Konstantin.

  However, we hadn’t seen any marks of a werewolf around. There were no scratch marks on the body, the ground, or the nearby trees. There also wasn’t any black fur, which was an obvious indicator a werewolf had been nearby.

  Allen and I tried to talk with Darius and Julius, but they began to rile the people up about how this must be the work of the werewolves. To be honest, I was starting to think it was the only option. I hoped Derek would be able to provide me with some much needed answers.

  By the time I left Crestwood, it looked like they were contemplating going to war with the werewolves. After all, an attack on one of the council members couldn’t go unpunished. They had agree to wait a few more days before deciding, at which point they would take a vote. If the vote succeeded, they would choose a dictator, and the council would be abolished until, hopefully, the war ended and the individual gave up their power.

  I really didn’t want that to happen.

  Allen promised to keep me updated, and would let me know if there were anymore attacks. For everyone’s sake, I hope there wouldn’t be until we could catch the killer. I was starting to seriously doubt we’d catch someone in time, if at all.

  Bart and I got out of the car without a word and walked into the bowling alley. We had barely gotten any sleep the night before, and I spent most of the day at work trying to piece together what little info we knew for sure.

  We moved to the far end of the bowling alley, where two men waited for us.

  “Hey guys,” I said, doing my best to put on a smile.

  Thomas waved excitedly at me, and approached with Derek. Thomas was wearing a bright pink bowling shirt with a logo of a moon and a howling wolf over his heart. He wore a bright green visor on top of his head, along with a pair of black fingerless gloves.

  It was… certainly noticeable.

  “Good to see you, Zoey,” nodded Derek. When I had first met the man, he was dressed in an intimidating trench coat, covering most of his massive form. Being a leader in the werewolf community, he did what he could to blend in and not be noticed. Here, he was also wearing a pink bowling shirt to match Thomas. For a man that tried to avoid attention, this must have been unbearable. The two of them received a number looks.

  “Do you like our shirts?” asked Thomas, turning around to show the embroidered team name on the back. It read Gutter Wolves.

  “Subtle,” mumbled Bart.

  “I do,” I lied.

  “Do you get it?” asked Thomas. “With the wolves?”

  “Y-Yes, Thomas. I get it.”

  “Derek didn’t really like the design, or the name… or the color… but I think he came around to it,” said Thomas. My butcher had been involved in several bowling leagues before getting bitten by a rogue werewolf, turning him into one himself. Derek found him and begin training him, which unfortunately took him away for the game he loved so much. One of the leagues he had to drop out of was with my manager, Eric.

  “Are you going to join Eric’s league again?” I asked.

  “I am,” smiled Thomas. “I’m sure the crew will be happy to have their ace back.”

  “Thomas,” said Derek. “Why don’t you got get us some beers and pizza? Take my card.”

  “You got it!” smiled the butcher, grabbing the card and scurrying off to the concession stand.

  “I’m surprised to see you bowling,” I said to Derek. “I didn’t expect this to be… up your alley.”

  Derek groaned as Bart laughed.

  “Beautiful use,” said Bart. “I was trying to figure out how to get that one in.”

  I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

  It was a big deal.

  “Thomas had been doing a great job with his training, and I wanted to celebrate with him when he finished. He was always begging me to go bowling with him over the la
st several months, so I figured this was as good of a celebration as any,” said Derek.

  “Are you heading out of town afterward?” I asked.

  Derek nodded. “I’m not needed here anymore. I wanted to see you again before I moved on, to thank you again for all you’ve done for Thomas.”

  “Of course,” I nodded. “He’s a great guy, and an even better butcher.”

  “That he is,” agreed Derek. “However, I also wanted to give you a piece of advise. Thomas mentioned that people were saying you’ve been seen with a man with a blonde ponytail. Is that Warren?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Be wary of him, Zoey. Warlocks are rarely pleasant to work with, and are never without an ulterior motive. If he’s been trying to get you to do something for him, you can be sure that he’s getting something more out of it.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. I’ve got something to talk to you about, too.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “What is going on with the vampires?” I whispered to Derek.

  “You mean with the death of Dante?” he asked. “I wish I knew. He would visit us all the time, trying to figure out how best to connect us with the vampire community. We all thought he would be the beginning of a new, stronger, friendship with the vampires.”

  “Well, it’s not just Dante now,” I said.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, raising and eyebrow.

  “Konstantin was killed last night.”

  Derek’s face dropped. “You’re joking.”

  “I wish I was,” I mumbled.

  “I know this looks bad, but this isn’t the work of our people,” said Derek, shaking his head.

  “So your organization had nothing to do with this?” I asked, trying to study his face. I didn’t take Derek to be a liar, but I couldn’t be too sure.

  “No. We’ve been striving for so long to create harmony with the vampires. It is one of our goals to be at peace with as many of the paranormal groups as possible.”

  “What about an individual werewolf?” asked Bart.

  “That’s a good idea,” I nodded. “Could someone have been acting out on their own?”

  “Anything is possible, but I doubt it,” said Derek. “When we were at war with the vampires, we would have to use pack tactics to defeat them. Vampires are stronger one on one than we are, and Konstantin was one of the strongest.”

  “Do you know why they suspect the werewolves so much?” I asked. “I thought you have been at peace for a while now.”

  “After those darn books and movies came out, the younger generations of our groups started to bicker,” said Derek. “They weren’t around for the old wars we used to have, and know nothing of how brutal they could be. I don’t know why they are letting works of fiction about some teenage girl’s affection get them so riled up.”

  “I think young men of all people groups get extra angsty when a woman is involved,” noted Bart. “Whether or not the girl exists probably doesn’t matter that much.”

  “Maybe it was a group of younger werewolves?” I guessed.

  “They wouldn’t know where Crestwood is, let alone that it existed,” said Derek, shaking his head. “The only way for someone to find that place is to be giving the directions.”

  “I keep hearing that,” I said. Things weren’t adding up. How could someone be killing the vampires if no one but the vampires themselves knew where they were? “The werewolves might want to be on their guard. The vampires in Crestwood strongly believe the werewolves are to blame. I’m afraid they’re not going to sit back, and may be electing someone to lead them into battle. Soon.”

  “I’ll notify my organization to be on high alert, particularly in this area,” nodded Derek. “I hope you are able to figure this one out before it comes to that. If anyone can do it, I’m confident it will be you.”

  “Thanks, Derek,” I said, trying to smile. I wish I had as much faith in me as he did.

  “Just so you know, if this breaks out in this region, it’ll eventually spread all across the continent, and the world. Vampire and werewolf sightings will go up again, and a lot of people will die. Not just paranormal, but innocent humans, too.”

  No pressure, or anything.

  “Here we are,” said Thomas, setting down a pitcher of beer and large pizza.

  “Congratulations on completing your training,” I smiled to Thomas as I picked up a slice.

  “Thank you very much,” beamed the man. “Should we start off with a couple of practice rounds before we start really going at it? Or are you in more of a competitive bowling spirit?”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not going to be able to bowl,” I said sadly.

  “Heading out already?” asked Thomas. “You haven’t even gotten a chance to bowl yet!”

  “Sorry, Thomas. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a big day,” I said, taking a bite of my pizza. “I should probably rest up.”

  “Are you sure it’s not because your scared?” teased Thomas. “I could’ve made you a shirt, too!”

  “Now that would’ve scared me,” I laughed.

  “It was a pleasure talking with you,” nodded Derek. “Until we meet again.”

  I said my goodbyes and left, pizza still in hand.

  “What do you mean you think it’s going to be a big day tomorrow?” asked Bart as we headed for the exit.

  “I have a feeling we are either going to find the killer, or witness the renewal of an ancient war between the vampires and werewolves,” I said, finishing my slice. “Maybe both.”

  Chapter 9

  The next day, I didn’t bother going into Foster’s Market. Eric was working and I probably wasn’t needed. I spent the whole morning and early part of the afternoon writing down everything I knew and trying to connect what could be happening.

  By the time I left for Jill’s beauty salon, I narrowed it down to a handful of options.

  “So what do you think happened, again?” asked Bart.

  “I believed a vampire was involved,” I said, taking a swig from a large bottle of water I brought with. I thought staying hydrated might help me think. “It doesn’t make any sense otherwise. How else would someone know where Crestwood was, which is where all the murders have happened? If they happened in Twistchapel, or maybe out in a random mountain range or something, then maybe. But both murders happened near the shack.”

  “That’s true,” nodded Bart. “So which vampire does that narrow it down to?”

  “It could be Allen, Rufinus, Darius, Julius, or any other number of vampires I haven’t met yet,” I said.

  “Well, at least we know it wasn’t Konstantin or Dante,” said Bart.

  “No, we don’t know that.”

  “What? But they were the ones killed!”

  “So? They might have brought in another person to attack other vampires in Crestwood, and then they were immediately betrayed. Dante could’ve shown them the shack and then been killed for it, or Konstantin could’ve been the one to lead to Dante’s death. After that, whoever he worked with was tying up the loose end and killed Konstantin himself.”

  “Wow,” said Bart. “This could really be anyone then, huh?”

  “That’s the problem,” I nodded, then took another swig of water.

  We pulled into Jill’s parking lot and got out.

  “When we’re done here, we’ll head back over to Crestwood and see if we can figure anything else out. I’ll tell Allen my theories, and see if we can maybe get back in contact with Warren.”

  “I hate that guy,” muttered Bart.

  “Me too, but I’m running out of ideas. Maybe having another mind working on this could help us.”

  A bell on the door rang out as I opened the door.

  “Hey Jill, it’s Zoey!” I called out.

  The building had a small entrance area with two doors on one side and receptionist’s desk on the other. A long, thin hallway came down to the back, giving the patrons some privacy from people just stopp
ing in.

  “I’m back here!” responded Jill, a hand popping up down the hallway.

  Bart and I walked down the light blue hallways to find Jill wearing overalls and covered with specks of paint.

  “I’m actually almost done with the painting,” said Jill, wiping her nose with her free hand. “I probably won’t need your help, but I’m happy to have the company!”

  “I’m happy to give it,” I smiled, setting my water bottle down on the floor. For how long Jill has supposedly been working on this place, I was surprised how little was done. The back room was just the walls, which were mostly painted. There were a couple of chairs, but no work stations or sinks. Maybe she was just a slow worker.

  “What have you been up to recently?” she asked, dipping her paint roller into some more light blue paint.

  “Not too much,” I lied. All the water I’d been drinking today was starting to get to me, and I regretted not using the bathroom before leaving. “I went bowling with Thomas, my butcher from work, last night, and one of his friends.”

  “That sounds fun,” she said, using the roller on the wall. “Who won?”

  “Thomas,” I guessed. “He’s very good. He’s been playing in leagues for years.”

  “I’m pretty bad myself,” she said, taking a step back and looking at her work. “I haven’t played in a long time. We should bowl together sometime, that’d be fun.”

  “Sure. Hey, this is embarrassing, but does your bathroom work?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t have been drinking so much water today.

  “No worries,” chuckled Jill. “Yes, it works. It’s at the front, when you walk in.”

  “Great, thanks,” I smiled, turning and heading to the front.

  “I’ll stay here and literally watch paint dry,” said Bart.

  I looked around the corner at the front, where there were two unmarked doors. I guess she didn’t have time to mark which one was the bathroom yet. I chose the one on the right and opened the door.

  Wrong guess. It was just a supply closet, with brooms, mops, paint, and some large wooden sticks on the floor.

  I closed it and check the left door. There was the bathroom!

  I went in and did my business, after which I washed my hands and pressed down on the soap dispenser.