Miss Frost Braves The Blizzard: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 5) Read online

  MISS FROST

  BRAVES THE BLIZZARD

  A Nocturne Falls Mystery

  Jayne Frost, book five

  Kristen Painter

  Welcome to Nocturne Falls, the town that celebrates Halloween 365 days a year.

  Jayne Frost is a lot of things. Winter elf, Jack Frost’s daughter, Santa Claus’s niece, heir to the Winter Throne and now…private investigator. Sort of.

  Christmas is over, the new year has begun, and life is thankfully slowing down for Jayne, giving her more time to chill with her new guy. That is, until Myra Grimshaw’s death reveals the elderly fae had a strange obsession with Jayne’s royal family and an unauthorized collection of exclusive winter elf objects. Including one very questionable snow globe.

  Then a whiteout of magical proportions snows the town in and unraveling the mystery of Myra and the objects becomes job number one. Especially when Jayne suspects one of those objects is behind the dangerous creatures now roaming the town’s streets.

  Things take a chilling turn when one of Jayne’s dearest friends is kidnapped and rescuing her means cracking the secrets of Myra’s past. But when Jayne discovers blood really is thicker than water, her own life is suddenly on thin ice. Can she save the town and her crown?

  MISS FROST BRAVES THE BLIZZARD:

  A Nocturne Falls Mystery

  Jayne Frost, Book Five

  Copyright © 2018 Kristen Painter

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-941695-22-7

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  Table of Contents

  MISS FROST BRAVES THE BLIZZARD

  About the Book

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  About the Author

  Many Thanks

  January 2nd

  Just the sound of that date filled me with a sense of peace unlike any other day. For winter elves, the second of January was a magical day. The holidays were over, taking the madness of preparations with them, and a week of rest had begun. The air was fresher on January 2nd. There was a sense of possibility, of achievement, of new beginnings. And I’m not just talking New Year’s resolutions. Mostly because I hadn’t come up with any yet.

  What I meant was that anything was possible in the year ahead, but we had a whole week off before we even had to think about plans for the New Year.

  Well, winter elves in the North Pole had a whole week off.

  In Nocturne Falls, we were still at work. Santa’s Workshop couldn’t just close down for a week. Sure, we weren’t on holiday hours anymore and store traffic trickled to a bare minimum, but we were open all the same, and the place had to be managed. (Mostly by me, Jayne Frost.) And restocked.

  The crazy pace of the holidays was definitely behind us, though, and we indulged in that even further by taking our time with the tasks to be done. Two days to inventory, restock and rebuild the doll section instead of an afternoon, that sort of thing.

  I kept the mood lifted by using company funds to buy lunch each day that week—pre-approved by my dad and uncle, of course. We had pizza from Salvatore’s, BBQ from Big Daddy Bones, bacon cheeseburgers from Howler’s, the blue plate special from Mummy’s (turkey pot pie!) and then pizza again from Salvatore’s, because that wasn’t something we were about to get tired of any time soon.

  Sinclair Crowe, owner of Zombie Donuts, and the new hotness in my life, sent us a large box of assorted doughnuts every morning. I’d ordered them and told him to bill me, but he hadn’t yet. Sweet of him to do, but I wasn’t asking for a handout because we were dating.

  I’d specifically placed an order through official channels (by which I meant I’d gone in when he wasn’t there so one of his employees could write it up). It was generous of him, for sure, but I didn’t want him to think I was expecting that kind of treatment just because we were a thing.

  I wanted to support his business. Something I’d proved right after Halloween by getting my dad, Jack Frost, to send a baker from the North Pole kitchens to help Sinclair out when he’d taken a bullet for me and had to have his arm in a sling. That baker, Archie Tingle, had returned to the NP about a week before Christmas. Sin had healed up very nicely and had been ready to take over as main doughnut maker again.

  But more than just wanting to support his business, I needed it to do well. Partially because I wanted him to be successful—he deserved it, his doughnuts were ridiculously good and he was a hard worker. But also because as long as he was doing well, he wasn’t going anywhere. Not that I thought he was on the verge of leaving or anything.

  But maybe I was a little gun-shy. Who could blame me after losing my last two beaus in rapid succession?

  See, I liked Sinclair. A lot. Truthfully, it was more than like. It was the other L word, but we hadn’t quite gotten to that part of the relationship yet. But all of those feelings translated into me wanting to keep him around. We were good together. Really good. He understood what it meant to run a business, and having that in common really brought us together.

  Then there was his overwhelming handsomeness and sex appeal. He was breathtakingly hot. Sometimes, I’d catch myself staring at him without even realizing how long I’d been focused on the thickness of his silver streaked hair. Or the broadness of his shoulders. Or the kissableness of his—you get the idea. I secretly wondered if he thought I was a little touched with all that staring, but he hadn’t said anything so maybe I was getting away with it.

  He also had a beautiful white cat named Sugar. She and my cat, Spider, had gotten to know each other on a couple of play dates and were surprisingly cordial with one another. The massive amounts of catnip we gave them might have helped. Whatever the reason, they were cute together, all stoned from the nip, stalking each other and running through our respective apartments with the occasional wrestling match thrown in. They were especially adorable when they curled up together to nap. Very yin and yang.

  There would be no adorable tuxedo kittens, however, as both Spider and Sugar had been fixed. Sinclair and I weren’t sure the two cats had romantic int
entions anyway. Those were probably best left to their human caretakers.

  As far as the other men in my life went, there weren’t any. And I was okay with that. Cooper, my college ex, was still at his parents’. About three months back, his mom had suffered heatstroke that had put her in a coma. Heatstroke was to summer elves what heart attacks were to humans. She’d pulled through the coma at last, but the recovery was going to be long. I knew Cooper’s being there was a huge motivator for her and a big help to his dad and I didn’t begrudge him not returning to Nocturne Falls. I would have absolutely done the same for my parents.

  But I did miss him. Thankfully, our friendship rose up out of the ashes of our relationship in a way that was sweet and surprising. We texted now and then, which was good. Sent the occasional email. He even called me on Christmas Day. It kind of felt like we’d graduated from our romantic relationship into something new and very adult. It was nice. We were better friends now than we ever had been.

  On the other hand, things with Greyson, my broody Irish vampire ex, weren’t so merry. He still resented me dating Sinclair, not because I’d brought another guy into the picture, but because Sinclair was a necromancer, a kind of supernatural that Greyson felt posed a real threat to vampires. Which he did, in a theoretical kind of way, but Sinclair wasn’t that kind of guy. He was truly a lover, not a fighter.

  Greyson refused to be convinced, however, and as a result, we’d grown further apart. I understood that he had some basis for his cautious attitude since his sire had been killed by a necromancer, but Sinclair had been in town for a while now without a single aggressive act toward a vampire. (Not to mention, he’d signed a pact with the Ellinghams stating he’d never do harm to any citizen of Nocturne Falls.) In my mind, it was time for Greyson to move past his grumpiness about Sinclair.

  Not that I’d said that to him. I hadn’t spoken to him since the day he’d given me the “me or him” ultimatum and walked out of my office. I wished him well. He was a good guy.

  Which was why I missed him, too, sort of. I mean, I guess what I missed was how things had been between us. The romantic dinners, the affection, the banter, the entertaining company. But with Sinclair in my life, I wasn’t really missing those things. Sinclair took care of all of that and then some.

  Truthfully, the man was spoiling me. And not just with doughnuts.

  Like right now, he was spoiling me with time. His. Even when I knew he had to be up super early to get things ready at the shop, he was sprawled on the couch next to me in all his lanky, muscled adorableness, petting Spider and watching old movies with me.

  And while you might not think that hanging out on the couch and watching movies was some fascinating date night, I loved it. Sinclair seemed to as well. At least I think he did.

  I looked over at him and the bowl of salted caramel popcorn sitting between us. “Are you having a good time?”

  He took his eyes off the screen to look at me and smile. “I’m having a great time.” His smile suddenly vanished. “Why? Are you bored? You want to do something else?”

  “No, I love this. It’s just probably not the most exciting night you’ve ever had.”

  “Considering some of the nights that have gone down in this town, I’ll take one like this any time.” He picked up my hand and kissed my knuckles. “You and me, a movie, popcorn, could there be a better way to kick off the New Year?”

  “Doughnuts?”

  He laughed. “I love you.” His eyes widened suddenly. “I mean, I love your love of doughnuts. I didn’t mean to say, that is, I know we’ve only been going out for—”

  “I know what you mean.” I was laughing, but on the inside, there were fireworks going off in my head. Just hearing those words coming out of Sinclair had been pretty thrilling. “I adore you, Sinclair. I hope you know that.”

  He squeezed my hand and the panic left his face. “I do.”

  We went back to watching the movie, basking quietly in our mutual awesomeness and affection for each other until the credits rolled.

  He picked up the bowl of popcorn (now just kernels and a few stragglers) and carried it to the kitchen. “Thanks for dinner. And dessert.”

  “Thanks for being impressed with my attempt at chicken alfredo.” It was my mom’s recipe, and I’d followed it to the letter, but it still didn’t taste like hers. Good, but not Mom’s homemade good. And my kitchen looked like ground zero for the zombie apocalypse. Minus any actual zombies.

  “It was very good.” He dumped the popcorn remnants in the trash, then took the bowl to the sink. “And I was extra impressed that you cooked for me.”

  “Good, because that’s what I was going for. Plus, you cook for me all the time.” I fiddled with the bracelet at my wrist. The strand of rainbow obsidian had been a gift from Sinclair. “I thought you deserved a home-cooked meal in return. I just hope you don’t get botulism.”

  He snorted as he started filling the sink with hot water. “Pretty sure it would take more than that to do a necromancer in.”

  I got up and walked over to lean against the island. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Cleaning up. You cooked, I clean.”

  “Yeah, no. That’s sweet, but I’ve got this. I don’t have to get up at four tomorrow morning.”

  He cranked the water off. “Babe, I can’t leave you with all this. You used every dish in your kitchen.”

  “Joke’s on you. I have paper plates.” I laughed. “No, really, you have work so early. And I have a dishwasher. I’ll load everything up and be done in five minutes.”

  He left the sink behind to slide his hands around my waist. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  I shook my head slowly. “Not even for a second. But I don’t want you groggy and falling asleep in the doughnuts, either. Hey, speaking of which, I owe you for the week’s shipments. And do not say they’re on you. They were for my employees and my shop has an account for that kind of thing. So bill me, okay?”

  He smiled in that indulgent way he had when I was putting my foot down about something. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

  Before I could protest, he leaned in and kissed me.

  And I forgot all about doughnuts for a minute.

  Or five.

  The next morning I was up bright and early. Not as early as Sin, but early for me. In fact, I wasn’t just awake, I was ready for the day. Today’s outfit was the gorgeous galaxy-blue leather jacket Sinclair had gotten me for Christmas with a silky black dress tee underneath, a pair of black trousers, and black suede ankle boots. Some diamond studs and my rainbow obsidian bracelet, which I pretty much wore all the time now. I felt like a million bucks.

  Feeling that way helped me forget just how early it was. But the other reason I was up at such a rare hour and in a good mood was because I was having breakfast with Birdie Caruthers. We hadn’t had a chance to get together since I’d just gotten back from visiting the North Pole a few days ago.

  The trip had partly been to see my dad and uncle, since I hadn’t seen them in a long time, while my mom and aunt had been down over Halloween for the Black and Orange Ball, but there’d been a big working component to the trip too. I’d sat with my dad and uncle and dug into the sales over the past year and, in finer detail, the sales for the Christmas season. Even allowing for returns, it was easy to see that this year had been our best ever.

  I was getting a nice bonus for that, as were all my employees. I hadn’t told them yet, because I wanted to take them all out to dinner and hand them their checks in person. They were going to be so excited. I’d decided the private room at the Poisoned Apple, the pub that had fast become a favorite with Sinclair and myself, would be the perfect place.

  But this breakfast with Birdie would be a real bright spot in my day. I loved hanging out with her, and she’d done me the huge favor of watching Spider (and my apartment) while I’d been away. This breakfast, and the gorgeous piece of North Pole crystal that I was bringing he
r, was my way of saying thanks.

  I strolled into Mummy’s at seven thirty. Like I said, early, but Birdie had to be at the reception desk at the sheriff’s department by nine and I had the store to open, so the earlier we got to breakfast, the more time we’d have to catch up. With not seeing each other since before I’d left, I had no doubt we had tons to talk about. Birdie still had the key to my place too. Not that I was worried about that. She’d had a key to my place off and on for a while. I was actually thinking about letting her keep it. For emergencies and such.

  Arty, my new favorite waitperson, gave me a wave. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal his tattoos: a pinup girl on one forearm and a heart bearing the word Mother on the other. “Morning, sunshine. What brings you out before the sun?”

  It wasn’t that early. “Breakfast with the mayor.” I winked as I used his nickname for Birdie.

  He gasped. “The Lady Caruthers?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Well, now, y’all come right back on here to this reserved booth.”

  I followed him. “Who’s it reserved for?” The diner was busy but not so swamped there weren’t other tables. I didn’t want to take someone’s seat.