Hallow Haven Cozy Mysteries Bundle Books 1-3 by Mara Webb (hardest books to read TXT) 📗

thing that would ever happen to me. I could never have pictured a version of my adult life where those types of disagreements would escalate to the point of murder. It was like the two families were frozen in time, trapped in the mindset of squabbling children. Had there been any attempts to fix this?

We boarded the small boat and set off for Port Wayvern, the captain signing some old pirate song loudly to himself and making up new words when he began to switch on a set of powerful flashlights so others could see us. “Ninety-nine shiny flashlights on me ship, ninety-nine shiny flashlights,” he crooned.

“When were the treaties signed?” I asked Miller.

“I think the most recent ones were about six years back. It seemed like everything was peaceful enough, or at least people were behaving themselves. It’s hard to say what has triggered this,” he shouted. The boat had picked up speed and the singing captain had also added to the noise, meaning that our conversation had to come to an end until we were back on land.

As we approached the island, it was clear that we had no welcome party waiting for us. I wondered if there was anyone in the Conerty family with the ability to anticipate our arrival. Being so new to magic it was impossible for me to even know what types of powers existed, never mind who had those powers. I had to trust Miller, trust that he wouldn’t spontaneously turn into a wolf and sprint away, leaving me alone with a family of murderers.

“Do you want me to wait?” the captain asked.

“Yes!” I replied quickly. How else would we get back to the main island? If we found someone that needed arresting, we could hardly swim back to the police station with the guilty party on our backs.

“Alright, I’ll be here working on my jams,” he said, pulling a guitar out of thin air and beginning to pluck at each string as he tuned it. I hadn’t considered that he might have magic, but the boat didn’t have enough storage to be hiding an acoustic guitar without me seeing it earlier.

“Where should we go first?” I asked Miller.

“If the Conerty’s have done something they shouldn’t have, then the head of the family would know about it. All moves have to go through Link,” he explained.

Even though it made perfect sense, I had been hoping that Link wouldn’t be involved. He was physically intimidating and the fact that I hadn’t seen any gyms around her suggested that he was strong from working the land, lifting heavy rocks and fighting. I couldn’t compete with that. Even Miller’s muscular arms couldn’t compete with that, not in his human form at least.

“Where would he be?” I asked. We both stood on the dark sand, staring towards the lights of the buildings before us, yellow pin pricks in the blanket of night. I suppose it’s too much to ask for streetlights in a place like this. I felt as though we were at a disadvantage coming here so late, we didn’t know the island as well as the locals and if they decided to run, or attack, then we wouldn’t know what to do or where to go.

“At this hour? Either at home or at the bar. I’d try the bar first,” Miller said, standing taller as if he also was feeling the need to psych himself up for this. He led the way and I followed close behind. The air grew brighter as we neared the small business district, the bakery on our left, the wooden structure that housed the treaties, then right in front of us, a sign pointing to the bar.

“Wait, it’s underground?” I said, feeling even less confident that this was a good idea. There was a staircase twisting downwards from the dirt sidewalk and I felt claustrophobic at the thought of it. Light and music escaped from the bar and it reminded me of a clue in a video game, as if the universe was saying ‘it’s this way’.

My feet rose, then fell, rose then fell. A slow walk in the direction of what could be a trap. I couldn’t lose sight of what I was accusing them of, among other things, I think that someone on this island killed Greta. The peacekeeper was murdered, and now all of her responsibilities were on my shoulders, I was as much of a threat to her killer as she was. I was at risk here.

On the stairs, Miller was three steps ahead of me. I turned my head rapidly between looking over my shoulder, and peering down over Miller’s, certain that we were walking into a dead end and we wouldn’t be able to escape once we got started. As soon as we asked the right questions, it would become clear what our suspicions were and that might rattle the guilty party.

It wasn’t as dank as I had expected. I guess my pre-conceived notions of an underground bar included cigar smoke, dim lighting and weathered old men sharing stories from their glory days over glasses of scotch. It was vibrant and colorful, youthful faces twirled on the dance floor as the seated few looked on. Everyone was tapping a foot to the music.

The bartender was throwing bottles into the air, watching them spin and catching them before pouring into glasses. He didn’t need to weigh it out, or use measuring cups, it was all done by eye after years of experience. Were it not for the fact we were here to investigate a double homicide, then I’d be tempted to try a cocktail or two.

“Sadie! Good to see you again, pull up a stool!” Link bellowed from the corner of the room. They were still ignoring Miller, but I wanted them to see that I had back up. I hadn’t walked into a trap by myself, I had a police officer with me, the sheriff no less.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as I shuffled across the