Hallow Haven Cozy Mysteries Bundle Books 1-3 by Mara Webb (books to read fiction .txt) 📕

“That is also a good point,” I smiled. “We still have to tell her.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’m coming with you! I can’t have you walking around alone at night, there’s a killer on the loose,” I teased. It was a weird topic to be flirting over, but everything was weird around here anyway.

We spun on our heels and turned to head back towards The Guitar Yard. If Jake lived in the apartment above it, then that was probably the best place to look for his wife.

There was a man on the street that hadn’t been there before and I couldn’t help but stare at him as he began to open up a guitar case, sit on a bar stool that was on the sidewalk for some reason, and started singing.

It was such a weird time of night to be out here playing music for coins. I mentioned that to Miller and he smiled as if he agreed.

“He’s really good though,” I said as we got closer. “Do you have any money we could give him?”

“He doesn’t take money, look,” Miller said, pointing into the empty guitar case. Inside were scraps of paper, old receipts and a napkin.

Miller stopped me in front of the singer, and I got a better look at him. He was a little scruffy, had shaggy red hair and a five o’clock shadow. He was wearing an old band t-shirt and a pair of tan cargo shorts. He stopped playing his guitar and leaned forward from the stool to give Miller an elaborate handshake.

“You must be Sadie,” the man said. “I’m Damon. So psyched to meet you!”

“Hey Damon,” I said, clearly confused by the situation.

“This is the most famous busker in Hallow Haven,” Miller said. “I’m surprised you haven’t bumped into him before.”

“I thrive on staying anonymous,” Damon laughed.

“What’s with the pile of recycling?” I asked, pointing at the paper scraps.

“Oh, I take payment in the form of inspiration. I know how cheesy that sounds, you don’t need to point it out,” Damon said. He lifted up an old, screwed up receipt from his guitar case and handed it to me. “What’s on here?” he asked.

I straightened out the paper and saw that there was a sentence written on the back of it. “It says, ‘he broke my heart, and I can never go back to that taco restaurant,’” I said.

“Hmm, that’s interesting. How about…” Damon mused, then started to play a few chords. He stopped, played another note, then nodded to himself. “I want to run to the door, hide in your arms, pacing the floor as you work your charms…” he sang. He laughed and then stopped playing his guitar and took the receipt from me.

“That was amazing, you sing like an angel!” I gasped.

“Thank you. I really can’t think of a way to include the word ‘taco’ into a love song but hey, I’ve got plenty of time,” Damon grinned.

“Are you entering the Battle of the Bands contest?” I asked.

“Oh, I don’t think I could hack it,” he answered. “I just play for fun. I don’t think I’d have a shot at something like that.”

“Damon, I have been listening to some of the entries and I can assure you, you would win by a landslide. There has been one good song so far and they didn’t even include their name with the cassette!” I explained.

“I’ve been telling him for months that he should be putting himself out there,” Miller said.

“Well, like I said, I thrive on anonymity. Hey, did you guys figure out what happened to Jake?”

“No, but we are working on it,” Miller said.

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t be out here alone,” I pointed out.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Damon winked. He packed his guitar back into his case and then as he clicked it closed, he disappeared. Smoke swirled in the space that he had just been crouching and the stool wobbled a few times before also disappearing with a ‘poof.’

“Wait! He’s a…” I gawped.

“Yep, one of you,” Miller said. “By that I mean he has magic. I don’t actually know what he is. Maybe a wizard, or a witch, or a really well-trained magician.”

“This place never ceases to amaze me,” I sighed. “We should get up to The Guitar Yard. The more time we spend wandering around the street being ambushed by talented wizards the longer Jake’s wife is kept in the dark.”

“Okay, but just remember that we don’t really have any remedy to her being in the dark. We have no light to shed on this yet. We don’t know where her husband is, he wasn’t looked at by a doctor, that means he hasn’t officially been recorded as dead… there’s a lot to process,” Miller explained.

“Good point. Oh jeez, this is a mess. Let’s find her first,” I said.

We carried on up the street and I could see the yellow crime scene tape around The Guitar Yard, it was flapping in the breeze that rolled up the sidewalk from the ocean.

Despite the hour, there was still a gentle hum of activity. We walked past a restaurant that had quite a crowd enjoying a late dinner, a bar with a bunch of young-looking patrons toasting some accomplishment and a perfume store had a neon light flashing the word ‘open’.

“Who buys perfume this late?” I asked.

“You’d be surprised. Have you been to the jewelry store yet?” he said, pointing at the building beside the perfume store. “It’s called Bearbrooks and the buzz around that place in the weeks leading up to Valentine’s day is outrageous,” Miller grumbled.

“Have you had a lot of experience buying people gifts for Valentine’s day?” I asked, hoping it sounded casual and not like I was prying.

“I’ve… dated,” he muttered. “My point being, Bearbrooks figured that if they were open late every night of the year then it might help with the queueing issue around big holidays. We also have our own Valentine’s thing here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I think it was actually the