Miss Frost Solves A Cold Case: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 1) (2 page)

That was flattering. At least I knew they trusted me, even if I didn’t always make them happy. I reached for the bracelet. It gleamed blue in the light, a sure sign of elf magic. “And if—I mean,
when
I get to the bottom of this?”

“Then we’ll bring you home and figure out something else for you to do. Something you like more.”

“I don’t hate working the N & N list, but something in design might be cool.” Kind of sad that I still felt adrift in my own community at this age. But then princess was a title, not a job. At least not one that was full time. I tucked the bracelet in my pocket. “When do I leave?”

“Tonight. Toly knows a new worker is scheduled to arrive in a couple days. We own the whole building there, as we do with all our stores, so one of the upper-floor apartments will be yours for as long as you need.”

I laughed. “You were pretty sure I was going to say yes, huh? Not that you actually asked…”

He skimmed over that. “There’s one more thing. You know magic is really the only way we can communicate from the North Pole, so we’ve come up with something.” He placed two identical snow globes on his desk. Both of them were empty except for the snow, and each had a pretty snowflake design on the front.

“Magical cell phones were out of the question?”

He ignored my snarky comment, picking up one of the snow globes instead. “Watch the other globe.” He gave the one in his hand a good shake, and a few seconds later, the snow in the second globe began swirling. “When you see the snow falling, pick up your globe and push the button on the back.”

I reached over and took the second globe. Sure enough, there was a small button recessed into the back. I pushed it. “Now what?”

My image showed up in the globe in my dad’s hand and my voice echoed back at me.

He grinned. “Now we can communicate.”

His image and voice came through mine. “Wow. That’s cool. About time the NP got its own version of Skype.”

He pushed the button on his, and the snow stopped swirling. “Keep it near you at all times when you’re in your apartment.”

“Will do.” Although, probably not too near. I mean, how much could he see through that thing?

“Good.” Then he handed me the thick file on his desk. “This has everything in it that you need to know. Memorize it on the flight down. There’s also a credit card in there with your alias on it. Use it for whatever you need.”

I took the file. “Speaking of the flight, please tell me it’s first class.”

“Not this time. From this moment on, you’re not the princess anymore.” He let out a soft sigh and folded his hands on the desktop. “Jay, be careful down there. Like I said, Nocturne Falls isn’t like most human towns. It’s…different. Alluring.”

“You think I’m going to fall in love with the place and want to stay? Don’t worry about that. I’m a winter elf. I live at the North Pole.” I gave him a smile. “Nothing’s going to change that.”

Nocturne Falls was crazy. Cray-zee.

Halloween twenty-four seven, three hundred and sixty five. Sure, there were towns that did the year-round Christmas thing, but when you live at the North Pole and work in Santa’s factory, that doesn’t seem unusual at all.

This place, on the other hand, was wild. The whole town was themed in full-on Halloween. From the black, orange, purple, and green color scheme to the crooked buildings to the spooky street names to the permanently cobwebbed lamp posts, Nocturne Falls made no bones about what happened here. I was a little in love already. There were even old-school Halloween characters walking around taking pictures with people. I passed a witch before I’d been on the street for ten minutes.

But let me back up, because I’d been here longer than that. I’d landed, found the ride my father had arranged from the airport, and made it into town an hour ago. But my first stop was a diner called Mummy’s where I scarfed down two surprisingly good slices of pie (one chocolate silk, one banana cream) and washed them down with a vanilla milkshake. A really good vanilla milkshake.

I know by human standards that’s not exactly a balanced breakfast. Or lunch. Or whatever meal I was supposed to be eating at this time of day, but I think I mentioned elves like sweets. A lot. Fortunately, we have the typical high-powered supernatural metabolism to go along with the ramped-up sweet tooth.

And with all the traveling and time changes, I needed sugar to make me right again. The pie and milkshake had done the job.

Now I was dragging two rolling suitcases down Main Street, looking for the shop so I could check in with Toly and get the key to my apartment. I would have used the nav on my phone, but it’s kind of hard to hold a phone, drag two suitcases, and shoulder a laptop case on one side and a purse on the other while trying to avoid accidentally cold-cocking tourists all at the same time.

A few streets in and my eyes started to glaze over from all the orange and black and purple and black and green and, well, you get the idea. Then a bright red and green sign trimmed in gold popped into my field of vision like a Christmas miracle.

Santa’s Workshop. At last.

The faded red brick building was three stories, with the shop taking up the first floor and apartments for employees occupying the upper two. It wasn’t mandatory that workers lived in the company housing, but it was a perk of the job, and who was going to turn down a free place to live? The apartments probably weren’t the Four Seasons or anything (which is where we stayed when we went to New York City), but I was sure they weren’t dumps either.

I’d know soon enough.

As mentioned, most of the stores in Nocturne Falls adhered pretty heavily to the Halloween theme, but Santa’s Workshop was one hundred percent Christmas. Right down to the
genuine
icicles hanging off the eaves and the canopy over the door, and the swirls of frost in the corners of the windows. When the sun caught the building just right, the glow of blue was noticeable. At least to my eyes.

Because making real ice and frost happen in Georgia in April? That was winter elf magic right there, but not all winter elves could maintain that level of magic over a sustained period of time. I could, but I was Jack Frost’s daughter. My skills were above average.

This had to be Toly’s work. And based on the amount of selfies being taken next to the biggest clump of icicles, I’d say those real icicles were quite the tourist attraction. I’m sure they thought there was some kind of chiller system built into the place.

I got closer and waited for a kind soul to hold the door, then dragged myself and my worldly possessions inside.

The spacious store smelled of pine, snow (yes, that’s a smell), and peppermint. The combination reminded me of home. The shelves were packed with toys. A big room in the back provided a place for kids to play with any toy in the store they wanted to. Twinkling fairy lights covered the ceiling, bins on the floor held more toys, and magic seemed to glitter in the air.

Maybe that was just something elves could see, but the looks on the customers’ faces could only be described as enchanted. The place was pretty amazing.

And despite the crush of tourists wandering through the store, Toly wasn’t hard to pick out.

Winter elves are as diverse as any other kind of supernatural. We’re tall, short, thin, fat (despite the metabolism, it does happen to some of us as we get older), light-skinned, dark-skinned, even blue-skinned on occasion. Our hair and eye colors have the same variations as humans, although, our hair can also run in shades from silvery white to deepest blue, but those colors tend to signify greater magical powers.

In general, we tend to be a fairly elegant bunch. More
Lord of the Rings
than cookie-bakers in trees, if you get my drift.

Toly, however, was pushing cookie-baker pretty hard. Most tinkers seemed to go that way. He was short and plump, with tufts of white hair that ringed his head leaving a shiny bald spot on top. The half-moon glasses perched on the end of his round nose did nothing to hide his twinkling eyes. He was talking to a little boy near the toy trains, and he hadn’t stopped smiling since I’d spotted him.

His rosy cheeks were probably always that color.

In short, Toly was the winter elf equivalent of a Hallmark grandpa. He handed the little boy a train, patted him on the head and looked up.

His eyes met mine, and his jolly smile somehow got bigger. He headed toward me, hand out. “You must be our new salesperson.”

I dropped the handle of one suitcase to shake his hand. It was warm and firm and comforting. “That’s me.”

“Well, hello there. And welcome to Santa’s Workshop. I’m Tolliver Featherstone, but you probably already know that.”

“Everybody knows who you are. I’m…” I remembered the dossier I’d studied on the way down. With my magic bracelet firmly in place, I wasn’t Jayne Frost anymore. “Lilibeth Holiday.”

Lilibeth was my middle name and Holiday was the most common last name among winter elves. Like Smith for humans. My dad had done well coming up with an identity that would be easy for me to remember and difficult for anyone else to deduce as false.

I guess being the Winter King also made him pretty sharp.

Toly put his gnarled hands on his wide hips. “Hi there, Lilibeth. Good to have you. I must say, you’re a day earlier than I expected you, but that’s fine, that’s fine. I’m sure you’ll want to get up to your apartment, then probably take a rest. It’s a long trip.”

“Yes, it was.” Eighteen hours to be exact. And
not
in first class. At least I’d slept on the flight from Anchorage to Denver. After that, I’d gone into study mode, learning my new identity and those of the workers who’d quit.

Six workers over the last two and a half years was no big deal, except that the last two had left this year, and this year was only four months old.

Toly nodded, his expression going from jovial to concerned. “Well, we’re glad you’re here, but we don’t want you worn out. And I imagine you’ll want to see the town.”

I did, and not just because it was part of my directive, but getting to meet my fellow employees seemed more important. “Don’t you need me to get started right away?”

“Oh no, not today, dear. Tomorrow is soon enough. Better you’re rested anyway.”

“Well, I’ll be good to go in the morning. I’m sure of it.”

He nodded again. “Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, very good. Let’s get you to your new apartment then. Right this way.”

He didn’t offer to take my bags, which was fine with me considering they were almost as tall as he was. He led me to a door marked Employees Only and pushed through it, holding it open until I and all my stuff passed by.

The space I walked into was drastically different from the shop. Cavernous and filled with row after row of metal shelving and two small, sectioned-off rooms, the area lived up to the Employees Only sign. This clearly wasn’t a space for customers.

He waved a hand. “Welcome to the warehouse. It holds our Santa’s Bag, the employee breakroom, and my office, but you can see all that tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” I wasn’t sure what else there was to see, but I’d find out in the morning.

He pointed to a rack of three forest-green bikes parked against the far wall. “Those bikes are for employee use. So are the umbrellas in the stand there.”

They were the same bikes we used in the NP to travel through the Factory. In a place that big, you needed an efficient way to get around. “Corporate thinks of everything.”

“Yes, they do, yes, they do.” He shifted like he was trying to make himself taller. “When you come and go from your apartment and you’re not working, that vestibule will take you outside without having to go through the shop. Your key works in that door as well.” He pointed to a large door with a glass window that took up about half of it. It opened into a small lobby with another door, this one solid and heavy-looking with a small, wavy glass transom. “That leads out to a side street.”

“Okay.” There was an elevator in front of us, but through the vestibule door I could see another one. “Is that the elevator to the apartments or is it this one?”

His brows shot up, and his face took on a worried expression. “Oh, the elevator in the vestibule is not for us. We leave that be at all times. That’s only for Nocturne Falls employees. This one in the warehouse takes us up to the apartments.”

He leaned in and pushed the up button, his stubby finger covering the entire thing. “Won’t be but a second.”