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

by Alexandria Westbay

  We walked down the aisles of my store, checking to make sure everything was looking fully stocked. It was Christmas Eve, which meant that tomorrow was the only day of the year we would be completely closed. I wanted to make sure there weren’t any last minute fires that needed to be put out before the store would be closed. I had given nearly everyone the day off as a little holiday bonus, with the exception of my two cashiers who were happy to work a little extra. Christmas Eve normally wasn’t a major shopping day at my store, with most of the residents of Twistchapel already stocked up on food and spending time with friends and family.

  Seeing everything was in order, I made my way to the front of the store, where my office was located behind the cash registers. It felt a little weird not seeing my usual crew working, but I was happy to give them some extra time with their loved ones.

  “You’ve got Charline working today, don’t you?” asked a resigned Bart. Charline Baker was one of my cashiers, and was my least favorite employee. She was very particular, and never seemed to remember that I was her boss, not the other way around. Still, the customers seemed to love her, so I put up with it.

  “Not in the morning,” I smiled. “She’s working the closing shift, so we’ll hopefully be able to sneak out before she arrives.”

  “You’re finally starting to make some sense,” said Bart.

  I waved to Bridgette, the cashier working this morning, as we walked by. Bridgette Simpson was one of my oldest friends, and had been working for me ever since she and her husband moved back to Twistchapel.

  “How are you doing, Zoey?” she asked. Leaning in a bit closer, she added, “Any new magical jobs?”

  She was also the only regular human that knew I was a witch.

  “I’m doing well,” I said. “Sorry to disappoint you, but nothing new on that front.”

  “Aw, that’s a bummer,” she said.

  I nodded in agreement. It kind of was. I was involved in a string of paranormal cases over the past several months, but it had been several weeks since my last one. I was happy to have a short break to get some work done at the store, but had hoped something would’ve popped up by now.

  “You’re going to be able to make my Christmas party tonight, right?” asked Bridgette.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I smiled back.

  “Ahem!”

  “Don’t turn around, Zoey!” warned Bart, but I knew it was too late.

  “Good morning, Charline,” I said, turning to find my other cashier had made it to work earlier than expected. “I thought you weren’t scheduled until later?”

  “I’m not, Miss Foster, but I knew you’d need all the help you could get,” said Charline. “If I wasn’t here, the two of you would probably go on talking all day, ignoring all the poor customers.”

  I glanced around, looking for these customers we were supposedly ignoring. There were none to be seen.

  “Back in my day, we didn’t stand around chatting it up the day before Christmas,” continued Charline. “We actually had some work ethic. The other day, a nice older gentleman came in and needed some help loading up his groceries into his cart. Bridgette here had nothing to do, and just stood there, talking to him. If it wasn’t for me going the extra mile, the man could’ve broken his back.”

  “That is not what happened,” said Bridgette, pointing accusingly at Charline. “I offered to help him, but he said no because he saw I was pregnant. I told him it wasn’t a problem, but he wouldn’t have it. He then asked me when I was due, and by the time I finished answering his questions, you had already loaded up his cart.”

  “See? You admit that I did it for him,” said Charline, matter-of-factly. “That’s the kind of work ethic I’m talking about. When I was pregnant, I never took the easy street.”

  A vein on Bridgette’s temple started to grow as she glared at Charline. I placed a hand on Bridgette’s shoulder to calm her down.

  “I appreciate all of your hard work, Charline,” I smiled. Charline nodded, pleased with herself. “I also appreciate Bridgette’s work, and would prefer if she didn’t overdo it while she’s pregnant.”

  “Very well,” nodded Charline. “If that’s what management wants, that’s what management will get. I may not think it is the right decision, but I respect the authority you have to declare it.”

  “Thank you, Charline,” I said. “I’ve got some work to do now, but please let me know if any older gentlemen need help loading up their cart. I’d be happy to help.”

  “Leading with example,” said Charline. “Doing that a bit more would do wonders to raise worker morale.”

  “Um, thanks… I think,” I said, heading to my office door.

  “Poor Bridgette,” said Bart. “Now she’s got to work the rest of her shift with her.”

  I couldn’t say anything while we were still in front of people, but I completely agreed. A whole shift working next to Charline. What a horrible way to spend a Christmas Eve.

  Chapter 2

  “Think I’ll be able to get any work done today?” I asked Bart as we sat in my office. It had been a few minutes since escaping from Charline, but all I had done so far was lose a game of solitaire on my computer.

  “Probably not,” yawned Bart. “I still don’t know why we came in today.”

  “You know I’m hardly ever here whenever we are working on a case. I wanted to keep appearances up. You never know when we’ll end up in something again.”

  The phone on my desk rang.

  “Maybe that’s trouble calling right now?” said Bart.

  “I hope not. I’d prefer if it waited until after the holidays,” I said, picking up the phone. “Foster’s Market, this is Zoey speaking.”

  “Miss Foster, this is Charline Baker, one of your cashiers.”

  “Yes, Charline,” I groaned. “I know who you are. We just talked not even fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Correct, that was me.”

  “What can I help you with?”

  “Detective Drake is here to see you. Don’t worry, I asked him if you were a suspect in any crimes and he said you weren’t.”

  “Uh, thanks, Charline,” I said. “Go ahead and send him in.”

  I hung up the phone and quickly messed with my hair in the mirror. It had been flattened somewhat by my hat, but I was able to fluff enough life back into it.

  Knock. Knock.

  “Come in!” I said. Drat, that probably sounded a bit too eager.

  The door opened and in walked Detective Drake Robinson, wearing his usual leather coat and blue jeans. Drake and I had been on a handful of dates over the past few months, and things seemed to be going well. Slow, but well.

  “Does Charline need to grill me every time I swing by?” he asked with a smile. A very nice smile.

  “Charline does what Charline wants to do,” I giggled. “How are you?”

  “I’m doing great,” he said, taking a seat on my couch. “I love this time of year.”

  “Me too,” I smiled. “It always seems so peaceful, and everyone’s in a good mood. It always reminds me of my Oma, too.”

  “Oma?”

  “Oh, my Grandmother,” I clarified. “That part of my family was German, so we always referred to my grandparents as Oma and Opa. My Oma loved Christmas time, and we used to always go visit her.”

  “That sounds nice. You know, you never really talk about your family,” he said.

  “I don’t,” I agreed. “It’s a bit complicated.”

  “I can respect that,” he said, before clearing his throat. “I don’t want to take too much of your time, but I wanted to ask this in person. Would you accompany me to Bridgette and Dan’s Christmas party tonight?”

  “Oh, like, together?” I asked, feeling my face go red.

  “If that’s alright with you,” he nodded.

  “I’d lov-”

  The door swung open behind Drake and a familiar man walked in.

  “Oh, great,” mumbled Bart. “He’s back.”
r />   Drake’s smile faded as he stood up next to the newcomer.

  “Detective Drake,” smirked Warren Locke. “What a surprise! Having a merry Christmas, I hope?”

  Warren was a warlock for hire, and had previously worked with me on a case involving some dead vampires. He and Drake didn’t get along very well, and I suspected Drake thought there was something romantic going on between the two of us. There wasn’t, of course. Unfortunately, I couldn’t just tell Drake the truth about our paranormal dealings.

  “I’m sorry for not calling you, Miss Foster,” called out Charline through the open door. “I’m helping a customer, so I can’t be bothered to deal with your messy love affairs!”

  I winced. Did she have to shout that, and in front of a customer?

  “What do you want?” asked Drake gruffly. Charline’s comment appeared to have increased his anger.

  “To borrow Miss Foster, if you’re done with her,” said Warren.

  Drake glared at Warren who gave him a cocky look back, neither breaking eye contact.

  “I’d love to go with you tonight,” I said to Drake, trying to diffuse the tension. “Pick me up at my place around 8?”

  Drake looked back to me, a smile returning. “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

  The detective shouldered past Warren, closing the door behind him.

  “Not much of a holiday man, is he?” asked Warren, brushing his shoulder.

  “I think it’s more of a you, thing,” I said.

  “Finally back?” asked Bart. “You know, we really could’ve used you a few weeks ago.”

  “The thing with the kids? I heard you handled it,” shrugged Warren. “Anyway, there is something quite time sensitive I need your assistance with, Miss Foster.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve,” I said, arms crossed. “Can’t it wait a week?”

  “It cannot. If it isn’t figured out by tonight, then there’s going to be some grave consequences.”

  “Find someone else, or do it yourself,” I said.

  “I’m not terribly good at the whole, mystery thing, or I would,” he said, using finger quotes when he said 'mystery thing.' “That’s why I need you. Really, the world needs you.”

  “The world?” I scoffed. “Are you trying to tell me that this involves somehow saving the world? Are we superheros now?”

  “Maybe I worded it a bit strongly,” shrugged Warren. “It’s more like, without you, there won’t be any Christmas around the world.”

  “No Christmas?”

  “Correct. Christmas will be canceled, and probably gone forever.”

  Now he had my interest. “What’s the job entail?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that until you accept it,” said Warren. He snapped his fingers, and the air next to him shimmered. The shimmering was contained in a space about the size of a full length mirror.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “It’s a portal,” answered Bart. “Looks like he was serious about the necessity of time if he’s opening a portal for us. That’s some serious magic.”

  “Thank you,” nodded Warren. “I promise you we’ll be back in time for your date with the boring detective tonight, but we need to go now.”

  I got up and walked closer to the portal. Was I really going to do this?

  “Ladies first,” he smiled, gesturing to the shimmering air.

  “Uh… I’m not so sure about this…” I said.

  “We can still back out,” offered Bart.

  “Christmas won’t be happening if you don’t walk through,” said Warren. “I’m not trying to trick you. The portal will close if I go in first.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to think. If he was telling the truth, then this was very important. Would I really want to wake up tomorrow knowing that Christmas was canceled because I decided not to do anything?

  Clenching my fists, I took a deep breath and walked into the portal.

  I was immediately hit with a cold blast of air. The ground was covered in snow, with a formidable mountain far out to my left and a dozen wooden buildings about fifty feet to my right. I could make out a group of small creatures milling about between the buildings, dressed in green and red. Most were wearing long, floppy hats, with pointy ears poking out on either side. Were those… elves?

  Bart appeared next to me, followed by Warren. The portal closed behind the warlock as he took a step towards the buildings.

  “Welcome,” said Warren, stretching his arms out wide, “to the North Pole!”

  Chapter 3

  “What… what am I wearing!?” shouted Bart.

  I looked down to see him tugging at an ugly Christmas sweater, with snowflake and candy cane patterns all over it.

  “That’s adorable,” I laughed.

  “It won’t come off!”

  I looked up and saw Warren making a beeline for the buildings. He wasn’t wasting any time.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked, jogging to catch up with him.

  “More importantly, what’s the deal with this sweater?” hissed Bart, scurrying in front of Warren and blocking his path.

  “I thought it made you look festive,” smirked Warren.

  “Get it off me!”

  “I will once we’re done here. Consider it added incentive to finish the task at hand as quickly as possible.”

  “Please never work with this guy again,” moaned Bart.

  “I’ll try not to,” I said. “Are you going to tell us what we are doing here or not? I’ve agreed to work on this with you and now we’re hundreds of miles away from Twistchapel.”

  “You’re right,” said Warren, absentmindedly looking at his wristwatch. “You’re here because Santa has been stolen.”

  “Stolen?!” exclaimed Bart and I at the same time.

  “Kidnapped, taken, whatever you prefer,” he said.

  “I didn’t even think he was real!” I said.

  “You don’t believe in Santa Claus?” smirked Warren. “That’s like saying you don’t believe in unicorns, or something.”

  I held my tongue.

  “How are we supposed to figure this out?” asked Bart. “We don’t know anyone around here.”

  “Not to worry. The head of security will be working alongside you,” said Warren, walking into a large wooden building in the middle of town.

  We followed behind him as various elves ran to and fro. Everyone seemed to be in a rush, but since it was Christmas tomorrow I understood. This must be their busiest day all year, making sure that everything is ready to go. I wondered if everyone knew Santa was missing or not.

  “Here we are,” said Warren, opening up a door that read Head of Elven Security.

  A woman elf sat at a tiny desk, reading through papers.

  “This is the elf in charge of security, ” said Warren loudly, getting her attention. The elf jumped up, and ran over to greet us. It was a little concerning that the head of security didn’t even know when someone entered the same room she was in. “She’s the one who called me up, and will be your point of contact for this job. I’ve got some additional business to attend to in another part of the building. I’ll be around here until you need me.”

  Warren brushed by us without another word and disappeared down a hallway.

  “Thanks for abandoning us!” I called after him, before turning back to our new elven friend.

  “Taradiddle,” said the elf, holding out her hand. She came up to about where my knees were, and wore a golden candy cane badge.

  “I’m sorry?” I said, shaking her hand. Oh no. Did she not speak English?

  “Taradiddle,” she said again. “My name is Taradiddle. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Oh,” I blushed. Crisis averted. “My name is Zoey Foster, and this here is Bart.”

  “Pleasure,” nodded Bart to the elf.

  “What happened?” I asked, skipping any further pleasantries. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I needed to hurry this along. “Try not to leave anything out.”


  “Very well,” she nodded. “Santa went to go talk with the reindeer to make sure everything was worked out. The reindeer were threatening to strike again, so Santa wanted to make sure they were on the same page before the big day.”

  “The reindeer were going to strike?” I asked. I wasn’t expecting that one.

  “Again?” asked Bart, also surprised.

  “Yes,” nodded Taradiddle. “There have been some pay disputes over the centuries, and they feel that since the world’s population keeps growing, it is only fair that they get compensated more. You see, there have varying ways they could get paid, such as per mile or per house visited-”

  “We get the gist,” I interrupted with a smile. “Did they come to terms?”

  “They did,” she nodded. “After Santa agreed to their demands, Blitzen suddenly ran off.”

  “Why?” I asked. That didn’t make any sense. Why would he be upset if his demands were met?

  “That’s a good question,” nodded Taradiddle, pulling out a notepad and scribbling in it. “Ask… Blitzen… why… he… ran…”

  Bart and I shared a look. I took it there wasn’t much crime at the North Pole if this was the elf in charge of everyone’s safety.

  “As I was saying,” said Taradiddle, putting her notepad and pen back in her pocket. “Blitzen ran off into the mountains, and Santa chased after him. After a few hours, Blitzen returned but Santa didn’t. The other reindeer and some elves went out to search, but weren’t able to find anything.”

  “Has Santa gone missing before?” I asked. “Was it possible he just got caught up going for a walk?”

  “This was a week ago.”

  “So, probably not…”

  “Since tomorrow is Christmas, we figured it was time to request help from the outside. Warren has a proven track record, and told us that you would be a perfect fit. Do you think you’ll be able to help us?”

  “I hope so,” I said. “I don’t really know where to begin, though.”

  “We’ve already narrowed it down to three possible suspects,” said the elf confidently.

  “Should we really trust her judgment on this?” mumbled Bart.