The Case of the Gloomy Gnome: Fascination Valley, #1

By Darby Strange

No one should ever take business advice from a talking dog, especially if that dog is a cynical excommunicated witch's familiar. Natalie Parker knows that even before hanging up her shingle as a Detective Extraordinaire. But she's desperate, and maybe Duke is on to something. For humans living in Fascination Valley, where magic is everywhere, even odd jobs are hard to snag.

Unfortunately, Natalie's first case is eye-opening. A sweet, elderly gnome needs help locating her missing husband. Soon Natalie finds herself chasing dead-end leads and wondering why the handsome new guy in town wants to tag along. And who is he, anyway? Human? Vampire? Something... else? The closer she gets to solving the case, the more mysteries she uncovers. She'll need Duke's help, all her courage, and a little bit of luck...

Fascination Valley is a cozy paranormal mystery series featuring witches, elves, trolls, vampires, leprechauns, minotaurs, centaurs, angels, gnomes, a talking dog...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Damned Monsters
• Release date: Oct 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393746287

Book preview

Chapter 1

Natalie Parker stapled her announcement to the bulletin board outside the drugstore, making sure not to cover any of the love or revenge potions, cheaper than the coven, satisfaction guaranteed, ads. She didn’t want to make enemies with someone who could turn her into a talking cricket.

Without looking, she passed the stapler behind her. Hold this a sec?

The paper’s not straight, came Duke’s raspy and somewhat muffled voice.

Seriously? Natalie wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, shielded her eyes from the glaring midday sun, and studied her handiwork. Her crooked handiwork. She sighed.

The flyer, which she’d designed in a hurry on her grandmother’s computer, wasn’t beautiful to begin with. The text was printed inside a crude magnifying glass she’d created out of a circle and a rectangular block.

NATALIE PARKER

DETECTIVE EXTRAORDINAIRE

Can’t find something? Let me help!

You pay only after I detect it!

And below that, her phone number printed vertically a dozen times, the paper pre-cut for the convenience of her potential clients.

I should have put more exclamation marks, she thought.

The house-painting ad she’d posted several months ago was still up, tattered and pathetic. Most of the phone numbers were missing. It had been like that on all the boards she’d visited, yet she’d only gotten four jobs. In a few days her current project would be finished, and she had nothing new lined up. She’d visited every business in Gerber Mills at least twice but had failed to score steady work as a waitress, a cleaner, a bartender. No one wanted her.

Natalie understood. She wouldn’t have hired herself, either.

She wasn’t as strong as a troll or as nimble as a leprechaun. Unlike a fairy, she couldn’t relocate a ketchup bottle from across the room just by thinking about it. She couldn’t match a vampire’s effortlessly persuasive charm or a goblin’s enthusiasm for late-night hours.

The only thing she had going for her was a complete lack of pride. This ad, exhibit number one.

Do you mind? the muffled voice asked. I’m starting to drool. It’s undignified.

Sorry, Duke. Natalie turned to take the stapler from the shaggy, medium-sized mutt’s mouth. He rarely wore a collar, because he wasn’t a pet. However, she was responsible for him, and for her trouble she received an insultingly small sum, delivered monthly by a low-level witch who wouldn’t answer any questions. After covering Duke’s food for the month, Natalie had enough left for a week’s worth of groceries.

Taking care of Duke was one of the many odd jobs that kept Natalie from drowning. Drowning quickly, anyway.

Just a couple more to put up, she said.

Duke shook himself impatiently. A host of yellow hairs floated from his coat and hung in the air. Let’s get on with it. It’s past my lunchtime, and you need to get back to work.

The nearest pedestrian crossing lay just beyond the optometrist’s office. Natalie couldn’t help turning toward the shop’s dusty window as they approached.

At first, she only saw her own reflection. Her shoulder-length dark wavy hair was frizzing in the summer heat. She had her mother’s wide, inquisitive brown eyes, and her father’s large nose and round cheeks. That was how she remembered her parents, anyway, as she had few photos. Her paint-splattered overalls were two sizes too large. She’d found them in the basement of the first house she’d painted, and she’d been allowed to keep them.

Natalie drifted closer to the window. This habit of looking around and taking mental notes was one of the two reasons she’d finally accepted Duke’s suggestion that she market herself as a detective extraordinaire. A term she was pretty sure he’d invented. She certainly didn’t have magical talents to guide her intuitions, but she kept her eyes open. It came in handy.

The other reason for this latest desperate gambit was her dire cash-flow situation. Last night, Granny had informed her that she’d be raising the rent on Natalie’s bedroom, effective immediately. Doubling it. Said it was because of Duke. Natalie accepted the idiosyncrasies of her grandmother, the only family she had left. But Ginny Parker could be mean. And cheap.

Natalie shook her head and focused beyond her reflection to the sign propped up on the receptionist’s desk. Closed Until Further Notice.

The door beside the desk opened. Two beefy trolls emerged, one carrying a ladder under his arm. Then Natalie noticed the dark spot on the ceiling. She rose up on her toes to peer over the low coffee table and saw overflowing buckets on the floor. The optometrist was another casualty of the recent storms.

Nosy, nosy, Duke chided. There’s a break in the traffic. I’m going.

Wait— She had to follow him. Duke tended to overestimate the driving abilities of the local populace.

On the other side of the street, she squeezed between two large concrete boxes of flowering petunias in front of the florist’s shop, which was shuttered for the lunch hour. In front of the wall connecting the florist and the bakery stood a wooden slab that might have been either a tulip or a baguette. Whatever its original purpose, it now served as a message board.

Natalie carefully affixed the next ad to the wood, then passed the stapler behind her.

This time, the paper was straight. Though… The others had seemed fine to her until Duke started complaining. She took a step back, then yelped as she stumbled over the stapler, which Duke had placed on the ground.

Thanks, she muttered, snatching up the stapler.

Duke was sniffing the air. Something wicked this way comes, he said mysteriously, then added loudly, "Something rotten. Witch."

She followed his gaze in time to see Sophia Michaels turning the corner, coming from the direction of the municipal parking lot. Even though ten years had passed since their high school graduation, Sophia didn’t look much older. She was wearing a white summer dress that swished gracefully around her long limbs as she walked. Her reddish-blond hair was pulled into a ponytail.

Judging from the sour expression on Sophia’s face, she’d heard Duke’s rude remarks.

She was angled as if she planned to give them a wide berth, but at that moment, a nymph pushing an expensive triple stroller power-walked past, hips popping with every step. Natalie could hear rap music leaking from the nymph’s earbuds. Sophia was forced toward them.

Oh, hello, Natalie, Sophia said. Dog. Her sour expression turned almost evil as she glared at Duke.

Witch, he replied, voice laced with venom.

Hi. Natalie moved the hand holding the flyers behind her back.

What have you got there? Sophia’s light-blue eyes focused on Natalie.

Just as Natalie had planned. She didn’t want these two yelling at each other again. It’s my new business venture.

Sophia was already leaning toward the ad on the tulip-baguette.

"Detective Extraordinaire. What a funny turn of phrase. Wherever did you hear it?"

It’s something I came up with myself, Natalie said, confident that Sophia wouldn’t call it stupid and offend Duke if she didn’t know it was his idea. Natalie wasn’t sure of the reason for their mutual animosity, as Duke had only arrived in town three months ago. However, she suspected it had something to do with Sophia’s coven, which operated just outside of Gerber Mills, and with Duke’s status as a banished familiar, even though he came from Dusk Cover, another region entirely.

In other words, something to do with witch politics.

It’s very… Pursing her lips, Sophia turned to look at Natalie. If people need something located, they should buy a spell from us.

Natalie felt her face turning red. I’m not trying to compete with the coven. I swear.

Sophia raised an eyebrow.

Duke watched their conversation with growing impatience. Finally, he’d had enough. While Natalie stuttered, trying to justify herself to Sophia, Duke decided to swing by Little K’s Chops for Pots and see what kind of treat he might snag for himself. Little K, an elderly gnome with a kind smile, always claimed to not have any unwanted bones for Duke, but Duke remained optimistic.

He trotted down the street, enjoying the caress of the warm sun on his fur almost as much as he relished putting distance between himself and the witch. When he reached the butcher’s shop, however, his good mood ebbed. The store was locked tight.

He studied the hours posted on the door.

It should have been open.

Duke balanced on his back legs and let his front paws rest against the warm glass. The display cases inside were all empty, and a light film of dust covered the floor.

How long had it been since his last visit?

He cocked his head and tried to remember.

As a familiar, he had many practical skills. He could read and reason, as well as speak. But he didn’t have a great sense of time, at least, not time in the past. Two days ago, three weeks ago… It wasn’t easy to keep them straight.

No juicy steak for you, fleabag. Sophia’s taunt interrupted Duke’s concentration. He could see the witch’s reflection in the glass, the way she truly looked, with her long, crooked nose, pockmarked cheeks, blue-tinted skin, and bulging eyes framed by sparse, needle-like lashes. Lucky him, being one of the few who could perceive it. Her lips were spread wide in a condescending smile, revealing teeth growing so randomly that he didn’t see how she managed to chew. Then again, she was so skinny, she clearly wasn’t eating much.

Duke ignored her gleeful cackle, biting his tongue until she walked off.

That was the best policy with witches. A lesson he’d learned the hard way, unfortunately.

It was also why he was certain Natalie’s new business would find traction. Natalie was harmless. She wouldn’t demand strands of hair or blood samples in order to do her job, and she certainly wouldn’t be running a side business as a blackmailer.

He saw Natalie approaching, so he went to meet her, leaving his sorrowful post behind.

Oh, Natalie said, looking past him.

Maybe he’s not coming back. Even speaking the words made Duke feel sick to his stomach. No butcher in town. Can this be considered a life?

I’m sorry, Duke. But it’s not like I could have ever afforded his prices.

He would have given me leftovers one day.

After all this time? I doubt it. She shrugged. Even if the shop goes out of business, I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.

You wouldn’t, Duke mumbled.

Natalie patted him consolingly on his shoulder. Perhaps I can borrow Granny’s car later and drive over to Waterford. In any event, we’re all done here. I put up the final poster while you were salivating. She tapped the small stack of newspapers tucked under her arm. Maybe there’s something in the classifieds.

Ginny never gives you permission to borrow anything, Duke pointed out. She treats you like trash. If ever there was a human who deserved an itchy wart curse… He trailed off as he realized Natalie wasn’t listening.

Natalie stared at the thorn mockingbirds gathered on the roof across the street. They were huddled closely together and facing the same direction, a dozen beady eyes watching the pedestrians.

Weird, Natalie said. It was rare to see thorn mockingbirds congregated, and even rarer to find them outside of the forests. They crowded each other with jerky movements, their slender necks bobbing.

Is that your face or are you walking on your hands? one of the mockingbirds called down to a passing leprechaun in a linen suit. The other birds snickered. The leprechaun’s head snapped up, and his thin lips pressed together. Without missing a beat, he stooped, picked up a pebble, and hurled it at the birds, who dispersed in a flutter of white-tipped feathers.

Good shot, a woman called out.

Not that good, the leprechaun mumbled, adjusting his tie. I didn’t hit it.

Clutching her newspapers, Natalie started to turn away from the mini-drama when her gaze snapped back. A man she’d never seen before was standing in front of a parking meter and digging through his pockets, likely trying to scrounge up silver anther coins. His dark hair gleamed like blackbird wings in the sun.

He looked up, and Natalie’s heart stuttered, because for a moment, the handsome stranger’s eyes seemed to shimmer with real gold.

Though that was probably her imagination.

She was so focused that she’d stopped walking entirely. Her gaze moved to his car, a conservative sedan. A luxury model, but hardly ostentatious.

Is he human? she asked Duke in a whisper.

When Duke didn’t answer, she turned to discover that he’d drifted away. Again.

Figuring Duke couldn’t get into too much trouble in the middle of a lazy Friday, Natalie resumed her inspection of the handsome stranger. He was tall, but still within the normal height range for an adult human. His button-down linen shirt didn’t hide his broad shoulders.

And those muscles. Probably not human. Men in Gerber Mills didn’t look like that.

His skin, while tanned, didn’t shine with the faint glow that marked elves, and he lacked their huge, pointy ears. Obviously, he wasn’t a vampire; they were tall but pale. Werewolf, perhaps. Or wizard. Warlock. Dryad. Or a hundred other human-like magical beings.

Or maybe he was human.

In which case, she should welcome him to town. Juggling the stapler and papers, Natalie thrust first one hand and then the other into her pockets, desperately searching for spare change. Nothing. Not even a single anther coin. Perhaps she could—

There you are! Sophia’s voice cut right into Natalie’s thoughts. Natalie watched in dismay as Sophia walked up to the stranger and kissed him on the cheek.

Well, that was that. Human or not, he clearly had high standards. And if he wasn’t human…

Magical beings could and did date outside of their species, including humans, but such relationships were often doomed from the start. All of Natalie’s had been, anyway.

That was the problem with Gerber Mills. With magical beings everywhere, it was impossible to find a good job or a good man.

Speaking of jobs, she needed to get back on the ladder.

As she hustled toward the former schoolhouse she’d been hired to help turn into senior housing, she wondered how long it would be before she received her first Detective Extraordinaire call. Or if she’d get any calls.

The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced it was a ridiculous idea. That was what she deserved, taking business advice from a dog.

At least she wouldn’t be sleeping on the streets alone.

Chapter 2

Several days later, Natalie was sitting in the plain but tidy bedroom she inhabited in Granny’s house, nibbling a juicy, crisp apple. Bright afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows. I’ve only got two hundred bracts left in the bank, she said miserably. What was I thinking, working so cheap? I’m such an idiot.

Duke was asleep, or pretending to be, and didn’t answer. Natalie dropped her apple core into the wire wastebasket next to her desk, both of which she’d snapped off the curb during trash days.

The cordless phone sitting on the windowsill rang. She rushed to grab it.

Is this Natalie Parker? a creaky female voice asked.

Natalie’s heart beat faster. Duke raised his head, looking interested.

She turned away. He’d probably be able to hear the conversation regardless, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Not after he’d pretended to be asleep when she needed a sympathetic ear.

I’m Natalie, she said. How can I help you?

This is regarding the notice in the library. What exactly do you find?

Oh. Well, I guess I find missing things. As soon as the words had left her mouth, she realized she might be coming off as flippant, though that hadn’t been her intention. Quite the opposite, in fact. I mean, she said, trying to salvage the conversation, that I’m willing to search for just about anything.

Duke sighed loudly behind her, and she heard the now-familiar sound of him flopping onto his side.

"But do you only search for things?"

Things, Natalie repeated slowly, trying to guess what the woman was after. Or missing pets?

Oh. The one word was filled with immeasurable disappointment.

Ask her what she needs found, Duke growled.

Natalie waved for him to shut up. Why don’t you tell me what needs finding, and we’ll take it from there?

Oh. Oh. I knew I shouldn’t have called, the woman moaned.

Wait! Natalie said, certain the woman was about to hang up. I’m a Detective Extraordinaire. Whatever you need, I can help. Nothing is too big or too small. I’m a professional. You can trust me. Natalie bit her lip, worrying that her desperate babbling had ruined everything.

It’s… You see… The woman inhaled what sounded like a shaky breath. My husband disappeared a week ago.

Oh, Natalie said, stunned. She hadn’t expected to be hired to track down a person. Duke danced in front of her, his brown eyes huge and shiny with excitement. She tried to nudge him away with her foot, but he easily dodged to the left.

It will be my pleasure to locate your husband, Natalie said. What’s his name?

There was a long pause before the woman replied. Kenneth Bloom. I’m Oleander Bloom. I went to the police twice and they took a statement, but they don’t think there’s any cause for concern.

Natalie whipped out her notepad. She jotted down the names, even though she was in no danger of forgetting them. She didn’t know any Blooms, but flowers and plants were popular surnames for gnomes. The theme often continued to first names as well. When she worked as a cashier at the market, there had been an Iris, four Marigolds, a Rowan, and two Heaths, one of whom called his own children Sage, Juniper and Violet.

Oleander sounded rather out of vogue, though. Natalie wondered exactly how old the woman on the other end of the line was.

He’s been missing a week? Natalie asked, mostly to buy herself time while she thought of what to ask next.

Yes.

Is he on medications?

Nothing that can’t be grown in a garden, Oleander said.

Does he have any illnesses? How old—

Duke took the hem of Natalie’s pants leg into his mouth and tugged.

No, he’s quite healthy, Oleander said, sounding offended that Natalie would dare ask such a thing.

Duke leaped up and snatched the phone between his teeth, then dashed away. Natalie was shocked speechless.

Good afternoon, Duke said into the phone, which he’d carried to the other side of the room. My name is Duke Geoffrey Aristotle III, and I’ll be helping Natalie with your case. She and I will come to your home to discuss the details.

Natalie couldn’t hear the response.

Yes, Duke said. Although we’re busy, we’ll make time. Because this sounds like an emergency. And we’ll discuss our fee schedule then. Give your address to Natalie, and we’ll be out in a jiffy.

He picked up the phone and trotted it back over, his tail and head high. The phone was wet. Natalie wrinkled her nose as she accepted it.

After she’d gotten the details from Oleander, Natalie hung up.

Duke stopped scratching his ear to stare at her. What the hell was that? Have you never talked on a telephone before?

She was being strange, and you— She sputtered. Don’t you ever do that again. You could have bitten me.

She’s old-fashioned, Duke said. She didn’t want to say that her husband’s run off only to be told that you don’t track down people. He resumed scratching his ear. As for biting you, perish the thought. I’m very careful.

It was still obnoxious.

You should be thanking me. You were going to lose her. The poor woman doesn’t need insensitive questioning. I suppose you’ll want to grill her when we meet, but be subtle about it.

Was I? I suppose… a little. Well, crap. The truth was, she didn’t have any experience with this sort of thing, and while she never would have admitted it to him, Duke’s people skills were far superior to her own. He could be downright charming when it suited him.

"For example, perhaps find a way to bond with the