The biggest downside? Danika must work at Karma Moon in the quaint town of Mystique, California. Except this is no ordinary new-age shop, it’s also where Elsie plays matchmaker to the town's hopeless romantics.
When Ryker Van Allan demands a refund after his best friend gets stood up—true love comes with a money-back guarantee—Elsie and Danika are stunned. And thanks to Danika's built-in lie detector, she knows Ryker's telling the truth.
The next day, the no-show woman is murdered, and Elsie becomes the prime suspect. Danika can’t let Grandma trade her cozy cardigans for an orange jumpsuit. But in a town where everyone has secrets, Danika can’t throw a tarot card without hitting a potential suspect.
With the clock ticking, Danika must clear Elsie’s name, survive retail hell, and maybe even find a place where she truly belongs.
I hesitated outside Grandma Elsie’s new-age shop, Karma Moon, with one hand hovering over the doorknob and dread twisting in my gut.
The overcast sky darkened, the scent of pine wafting on the autumn breeze. A light rain sprinkled my red Mini-Cooper snugged up to the curb, which could use a wash. I’d just driven two hours in traffic from Modesto and bug guts and bird poop had splattered the windshield.
I jiggled the shop’s doorknob, but it remained shut tight. My knuckles rapped on the door, then I peered through the stained-glass window into the dark building. A neon sign—a psychic hand with stars around it—affixed to the window pitched a pink glow into the main store area.
Huh. I tugged my phone from my purse and dialed Grandma Elsie. The call went straight to an answering machine and I hung up, dropping the cell into my bag.
Was it too much to hope that Grandma had finally embraced modern technology and learned how to use a cell phone? Probably. The woman still used a rotary phone.
Main Street appeared deserted. The other businesses, antique shops, galleries, and cafes, closed and silent. Historical towns like Mystique, California shut down by nine o’clock. A touristy, mountain town so small there wasn’t even a mall or movie theater. Surrounding the area were gold mines, wineries, and the Sierra Foothills, a national forest that seemed to guard Mystique like a treasured secret.
I went around the corner and down a dimly lit alley. The brick building beside Karma Moon had grimy barred windows. A security light over the partially open back door illuminated the entrance and shone on a planter-box with thriving greenery.
The rusty dumpster leaking unidentifiable fluid at the end of the alley banged into the wall. Startled, I yelped.
A Hispanic woman stepped into the light. Not much makeup, nor style to her smooth black hair. Her wrinkled blouse matched the color of her violet lipstick, and she had on plaid flannel pants that resembled a picnic table, with…tie-dye clogs.
“You startled me,” I said, placing a hand over my thudding heart.
The woman snickered, the sound making the little hairs on my skin raise. She tightly clutched a purse in both hands, as if at any moment, it would sprout legs and run off.
I dragged in a deep, steadying breath. “The shop’s closed for the night—”
“I know that, Captain Obvious.” Her voice was unnaturally loud in the stillness. “And sorry for the jump scare. Girl scouts honor. Cross my heart and hope to die.”
An icy pressure on my neck grew colder the longer I stared at the woman. She was lying. The Crocs-wearer wasn’t remorseful in the slightest.
A headache bloomed behind my eyes. Just my luck—my freaky, truth-detecting psychic gift came with the worst side effect ever. Lies often felt like brain freeze, and if I caught too many fibs in one conversation? Hello, migraine.
"What brings you to this charming back alley?”
She pointed a finger at me. “Ah, so you must be Danika Dreary, the flaky granddaughter that Elsie’s always talking about.”
“And you are? How do you know my grandma?”
The woman harrumphed. “I’m Angela, her very best client. The one who's actually been around for her—unlike you.”
Heat crept up my neck, and I clenched my fists. Ouch. That stung more than I cared to admit.
The nerve of this woman, shaming me like that. If my grandma needed me, I was only a phone call away. We had our weekly Sunday night chats, and it was one of the few things I genuinely looked forward to. Heck, I even had her on speed dial. I called it Insta-Gram.
Why did I care what some random fashion victim thought of me, anyway?
Angela curled her lip. “Where’s the stick pins?" She shook her head. "Well, color me unimpressed. Clearly, you're not taking this seriously!” She darted out of the alley, the darkness swallowing her up like a frog gulping down a fly.
Stick pins? That woman was a few cards short of a tarot deck.
Shaking my head, I stepped through the open door into the storeroom, and flicked the switch to turn on the overhead light. Dusty shelves adorned one gray wall stocked with an assortment of kitschy merchandise and meditation books. The hardwood flooring showed signs of wear and warping. The room held the musty odor of an unused attic. A desktop computer, printer, and accounting ledger perched on a desk in the corner.
I shut the back door. “Nana? It’s Danika.”
Moving further into the room, I stood beside a gurgling water cooler near a bench backed up against the wall.
Footfalls creaked from overhead. I swiveled toward the wrought-iron spiral staircase that led to a two-bedroom apartment above Karma Moon, taking up the whole second floor.
“Hello, sweetheart.” An affectionate smile graced Grandma Elsie’s lips as she descended the stairs. In one fist, she clutched a rabbit’s foot, her good luck talisman.
The sight of her familiar face instantly soothed my frazzled nerves. But the rabbit's foot in her hand sent a different message. Was she worried about something? Or just her usual superstitious self?
“You shouldn’t leave the back door open,” I said.
She glanced at the entrance and rubbed her thumb over the furry foot. “I thought I’d locked it after my last client left.”
I had to ask. “Matchmaking or tarot card reading?”
Grandma Elsie smirked. “A mixture of both.”
While she examined the locks on the door, I looked her over. Elsie Dreary was in her early sixties, yet appeared much younger. She had short, sunflower-blonde hair with soft bangs that swooped over cornflower-blue eyes and flaunted the striking symmetry of her face. I grinned at her purple fleece pajamas with a cupcake print under a plush robe and fluffy slippers. Wearing oddball PJs was one of her adorable quirks.
My own outfit wasn’t quite as charming: an oversized sweater paired with black leggings and scuffed UGG boots.
Grandma Elsie faced me and we hugged. Her fragrance of gardenias and talcum powder crowded my nose and made me smile. I held her tight, feeling that sense of dread ebb away.
“I’ve missed you so much.” She slipped the rabbit foot into her robe pocket.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
Grandma Elsie pushed back, holding onto my upper arms and giving me a critical once-over. “Let me take a look at you.” She tilted her head and squinted. “What’s with the pink hair?”
Wavy pink-colored hair fell over my shoulders and framed my blue eyes and pale complexion. “It’s breakup therapy. Some women go on shopping sprees, others binge on ice cream—I color my hair.”
A therapist was expensive. A box of hair dye was only ten bucks.
Her grin faltered. “I knew you were wasting your life in Modesto with that jerk.”
Ah, the comfort and support of loved ones. I knew coming here I was in for a lecture, I just thought I’d be able to unpack first.
My shoulders sagged. “What do you want me to say? That you were right? Fine. I guess douche-y men are my kryptonite.”
Now I bet you’re wondering how I ended up here.
My grand exit from Modesto had been a certified dumpster fire. First, I kneed my handsy boss in the groin after he decided my breast was company property. Even now, the memory made me want to take a scalding shower. Then, because the universe wasn't done with me, I caught my boyfriend's phone lighting up with sexy selfies—courtesy of my roommate. The grand finale? Coming home to find my belongings stuffed into my Mini-Cooper. At least they'd been thoughtful enough to pack for me.
Don’t worry, I didn’t key my roommate’s car or sneak into my ex’s apartment to swap his shampoo with hair removal, although the thought did occur to me.
With no other job prospects or places to live, I didn’t have much choice in moving here. Who else would take in an unemployed, homeless thirty-three-year-old?
A sympathetic grandma, that’s who.
“Oh, sweetheart.” She gave me another hug before stepping back. “You okay?”
My head drooped. “Fair to partly cloudy. But seriously, I’m fine. Really,” I said and meant it. My ex and I had only dated for three months so it wasn’t serious, and it was the betrayal that hurt more.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out,” she said. “But you should take responsibility for your life choices.”
My skin flushed and I raised my head. “I know. I just need time to figure things out.”
Grandma Elsie grunted. “You’ve been saying that for years. You quit every job you get within six months. You live a nomad existence. And you date unworthy men…Danika, I just want you to be happy.”
My inability to keep a job was not a trait I was entirely proud of. I might not be happy, but I was attempting to carve out my own niche in the world, and I was still searching for my true calling—whatever that might be.
Grandma Elsie sat on the bench and patted the spot beside her. I plopped down and sighed.
She laid a hand on my arm with a twinkle in her eye. “I told you several years ago that your soulmate was out there. In fact, you’re going to meet him very soon.”
While I wasn’t heartbroken over my recent breakup, I’d sworn not to date for at least a year. Or maybe never, ever again, you get the point.
I rolled my eyes. “No fixing me up while I’m here, okay?”
She puckered her lips. “Love is one of the greatest gifts you can receive, and I take immense pride in finding it for others.”
“You would believe that,” I teased. “You’ve been married four times!”
Her expression softened, along with her voice. “True, and your grandfather—rest his soul—was the love of my life. None of my other three husbands ever measured up, but it’s high time you settled down.” She sat up and narrowed her stare at me. “Danika Elizabeth Dreary, you are a smart, capable, sensitive woman. And you’ve always had a job at Karma Moon.” She patted my knee. “Deep down, you must realize that this is where you truly belong, what you were destined to do—”
“Time out.” I held up one hand. “While I’m grateful to you for taking me in, selling retail is not my life’s ambition. But while I’m here, I’ll help out.”
Grandma Elsie curtly nodded. “Good. I would expect no less, and who knows? Maybe you’ll find that you like working at Karma Moon.”
My heart squeezed. I wasn’t being very appreciative of her goodwill. No reason to tell her that I only intended to stick around long enough for my bad luck to remedy itself. And I just needed to save up enough money to live on my own and find another job. I had no plans to stay in town and work in retail.
My grandma got to her feet. “Let’s get you settled into your old room…” Her voice faded and she froze. Her gaze widened as it roamed over the inventory lining the shelves. “Oh, no. No!”
“Nana? What’s wrong?”
“This is bad. Very, very bad.” Her forehead creased. “A love potion and voodoo doll are missing. Look, there’s an empty space on the shelf.”
Grandma Elsie went to the storeroom shelves, frantically moving around bottles, candles, and sticks of incense. A plume of dust rose and tickled my nose.
I fought a sneeze. “I thought those things were harmless.”
“The potions are to some extent.” She kept rummaging through the items. “More of the placebo effect, but anyone who steals a voodoo doll has nefarious intentions. The dolls are reserved for select clients only. “
“Any idea who might’ve taken them?”
Grandma Elsie paused. “Possibly a client of mine, Angela Hernández. She left just before you arrived. The poor woman is infatuated with a gentleman in town, and refuses to believe that her soulmate is not the man she’s in love with.”
My lips twitched. “And you know this how?”
She tapped the side of her temple with a smirk. “My psychic intuition, of course.”
“Of course,” I teased. “I saw Miss Sticky-Fingers outside in the alley.” I briefly described the woman and our peculiar exchange, along with Angela saying the weirdness about stick pins.
Grandma Elsie pulled the robe tighter around her slender frame. “I gave Angela an afterhours tarot reading tonight because she said it was an emergency, but she wasn’t happy with the outcome.”
“Why would Angela take a love potion and voodoo doll?”
She raked a hand through her hair, the blonde strands standing up wildly. “I’m afraid by stealing the voodoo doll, she intends to hex the man’s girlfriend, and then use the love potion on him.”
“Do you want to call the police?”
Grandma Elsie shook her head. “Over two missing items? It’s not worth the trouble. I’ll contact Angela in the morning to sort this all out…but, ah, bad things do happen in threes.”
“That’s just superstitious nonsense.” I placed an arm around her. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“Maybe, but Angela is desperate, and desperate people do dangerous things.”
There you have it, a little peek at my cozy mystery! Let me know what you think in the comments.
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