A Twisted Dive: Pixie Twist Mysteries, #3

By Alyn Troy

A Hollywood starlet found floating in the bay. St. Mo's pier is still destined for the scrap heap. Can Twiz unbend the mystery, and weather the storm that is brewing?

Twiz's simple Sunday morning of reading on the pier is interrupted with the discovery of the starlet's body. Several of the actor's enemies are right here in St. Maurice. They all have a motive, but who actually shot the movie star in the back?

If that isn't enough trouble for Twiz, her business and personal life hit rough seas. Under pressure to run for office, she realizes that she can save the pier if she wins the election in the fall. But, when her business gets an unexpected kink in the hose, she's faced with choices she doesn't want to make.

Add in the weresharks making Twiz an offer she can't refuse, and Mort's mini-dragon poker game, and Twiz is facing a tempest of a week. Can Twiz find the murderer and clear the mystery before the mundane celebrity press arrives by the boatload and start snooping through St. Mo's magical secrets? Can her professional life survive the pressure?

Another exciting mystery lurks below the surface in St. Mo. If you love fun fae characters, twisted mysteries, and snarky humor, you'll love Alyn Troy's Pixie Twist cozy mystery series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mystic Brews Mysteries
• Release date: Jun 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9798215107096

Book preview

1

N o murders today?

Kami plopped down next to me on the bench at the west end of the pier. The morning sun wasn’t high enough to warm my back yet, so I wrapped my hands around the warm cup from Beanzies.

I cocked an eyebrow at her. What? I’m not the detective. It’s only been a month or so since our last two murders. We don’t need more.

You’re making quite a name as a sleuth. Kami sipped from her coffee cup. I smelled caramel. She was partial to the lattes—with extra syrup, since she was a pixie.

Kami wore her St. Maurice Police Department Beach Patrol uniform, shorts that showed her dark legs, and a short-sleeved navy-blue polo. Over that, she wore a dark windbreaker. Police was embroidered on both the polo and the windbreaker. SMPD was emblazoned across her ball cap.

Early shift today? I asked.

Yep. Me and Harold. I’ve got the pier area. He’s got the wheels, so he gets Beach Patrol. I left him to talk to Mort at the Dog Hut.

Ah… Mort said it’s time for the annual mini-dragon games or some such. He’s hosting. I chuckled. Probably waiting to put in a catering order for chili-cheese dogs.

Ugh… Dragons eat those? She suppressed a shiver.

Mort does. Says he loves them better than English bangers and mash.

Patrols… Kami’s radio crackled. 10-57 Oceanview Arms Hotel.

Another voice sounded right after.

Unit B-19 is 10-17. ETA three.

I sipped my coffee, then turned to Kami. Was that Harold?

Yep. With the SUV, he’ll get up to Ocean Ave. faster than I can. I’ll let him take the call.

I’ve seen you fly. If you pop pixie, you could be up there in less than a minute.

She could, too. Kami was athletic, even for a pixie. Instead of competing in the all-pixie leagues in high school, she’d played sports with the tall fae and usually dominated the local leagues.

I could… She let that hang. But I wouldn’t get to hang out with my friend at the end of the pier and watch the boats head out.

You missed most of the morning boats. Even for a Sunday, they’re already sailing. I took another sip. What’s a 10-57?

Either a hit-and-run or a missing person. Either will keep Harold occupied for an hour. Dom’s coaching him, so Harold now overdoes the paperwork.

I sipped my coffee. Real coffee. Second-cup kind. Not the vanilla latte with extra syrup—that was my first cup. I still squeezed extra honey into the dark-roast brew. We pixies love our sugar.

Let’s hope it’s someone just sideswiped a parked car.

Yeah, we don’t need another missing person to turn into a murder. Kami grinned and tapped my arm with her elbow. Our amateur sleuth pixie needs a break from all that. She’s got houses to sell. Needs her commission to afford new clothes for dates with the hunky undead boyfriend.

I ignored her teasing about Chaz. She was correct, though. I was having fun buying a new outfit for each of our date nights. That reminds me, it’s time to head down to LA for a shopping trip this week. Wanna come with?

Of course. You must have got a big commission. Kami grinned.

Just about got Larry ready to close on and take possession of the Poseidon Apartments, I said. Just waiting on his incorporation paperwork to get filed. That’s supposed to happen on Friday. As long as it does, we can close Monday, and I’ll get a commission check.

I heard the pier boards shift behind us.

Ladies. Top of the morning to you, a male voice sounded along with the footsteps and the rumble of a cart rolling along.

Heya, Gus, I called. Got a charter this morning?

"Not today, lass. Just the three of us. Erik and Ralph can get the Sea Dragon ready while I catch my breath." Gus leaned back against the railing. Our bench was about five feet back from the railing and just to the side of the open gateway to the ramp down to the boat dock. A Welsh Corgi, dressed in a striped sailor shirt, sat next to Gus.

Aye, Pops! Gus’s son, Erik, said. Did you replace the crystals in the radio?

Still on back order, Gus said.

Erik shook his head. Pop doesn’t like newfangled contraptions. Keep telling him the crystal radios are subject to faerock surges.

Didn’t need a radio when I sailed here in 1804, lad, Gus said. "Now get the Sea Dragon ready and take the pooch with you. I’ll rest here with the ladies."

Neither man looked like they needed to rest from the walk down the pier. The father and son duo were tough to tell apart and in excellent shape. Both tall and thin, with weathered good looks and toned bodies. Both served as volunteer lifeguards on the beach when they weren’t out with a fishing charter or salvage operation.

Gus, a true Scandinavian, sported a blond crew cut with a touch of gray creeping in, and striking blue eyes. Erik, born in the US, had a darker blond, almost brown head of hair. Erik had green eyes, though. Almost the same shade as mine.

Erik grabbed the handle of the cart and tugged it toward the ramp down to the dock. Only a few ships got to moor alongside St. Mo’s old faerock amusement pier. Gus’s Sea Dragon was one. And only because Gus paid rent for a charter boat and deep-sea fishing office here on the west end. The other was the shuttle boat from the Tiger, St. Mo’s gambling boat out in the bay.

Come on, mutt, let’s get her shipshape, Erik called over his shoulder toward the corgi.

I am no mere mutt, you lackey, Ralph called. He trotted with his short legs to keep up with Erik. I am a thoroughbred Welsh corgi, from a long line of hunters.

Corgis are herders, silly mutt, Erik called from the ramp. You can herd the fish for me and Pops today.

Herd fish? You insult me, lackey. Ralph the corgi turned toward Kami and I. Ladies, please give my regards to Mortimer of the Bluescales. Let him know I am on patrol today. Should any miscreants seek to wreak havoc upon our bay, I shall disrupt their plans and earn the praise of St. Maurice’s dragon.

He’s a mini dragon, I corrected him.

For a warrior of my size, Mortimer is a dragon, Ralph said. He sat and raised back on his haunches, front paws off the pier. He had to duck his head, but he managed a halfway decent paw-to-forehead salute.

Please inform your father that I shall alert the Pixie Air Wing if we encounter anything that needs their attention. Most disturbances, Mortimer and I should be able to handle on our own.

Right-o! I’ll let my father know. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the corgi. He tried so hard to be a fighting dog. But a corgi, especially one in a sailor’s striped shirt with a sailing cap strapped to his head, couldn’t pull off the menacing look of a shepherd or a Doberman.

Off you go, lad, Gus said.

How did you get such an interesting familiar? Kami asked Gus once the corgi trotted down the ramp.

My ex-wife wanted us to find matching familiars. She picked Ralph’s sister, who got all the magical talent in the litter. They’re perfect for each other. Since I’m not much of a wizard, Ralph is fine. He’s great with navigation, though. Got me through a few fog banks. And his low belly gives him good sea legs.

He seems quite the warrior. Kami leaned forward to peer down at the Sea Dragon.

In his dreams, he is. Poor lad. Got a bit of an inferiority complex. Always looking for approval. We make a good pair. Gus tipped his white captain’s hat to us. Ladies, please excuse me. I want to get in a good day on the sea with my son before tourist season overwhelms us.

A father–son trip? I always enjoyed those types of days with my dad. He learned to pilot human aircraft just to take me up with him. My gimpy, half-formed left wing meant I corkscrewed when I flew. My father, commander of the Pixie Air Wing, took up flying real aircraft just to include me in his life as wing commander.

Of course, Gus said, then headed down the ramp.

I should head out, too. Kami stood. You staying here?

I nodded and raised my tablet. Great morning for it. I’ve got a juicy murder mystery here, one that someone else gets to solve.

I’ll come back around later on, probably in about an hour. If you’re still here, we can grab an early lunch?

Sure.

Kami tossed her paper cup in the trash bin, then popped pixie and flew off over the north beach.

There was something about sitting at the end of St. Mo’s Pier, staring off into the Pacific Ocean. Something that lulled me into not wanting to do much. I flipped open the cover on my tablet but didn’t get more than a page into the new ebook before my eyes were back on the waves. Our harbor didn’t have the steep drop-off right here, which made waves break well for surfing. The far north end got those. The slope here was enough, though, that about every tenth wave would break and rumble under the pier.

I pulled my eyes back to the mystery book. Two pages in, and I wasn’t sure yet if I was following the victim or the sleuth. I glanced up, trying to remember the narration on page one.

Twiz! Hey, Twiz!

Oh, hey, Larry.

Faerocks! You’re tough to wake up when you’ve got ocean face going.

Yeah… sorry. I glanced at my watch. Wow! Kami said she’d be back in an hour, and it’s almost time. I must have been daydreaming.

Nah. I know you well enough. You get vacant eyed just staring at the water. Lot of people do. Ocean eyes, Mom calls it. A longing for the sea.

I’m not a sailor, nor merfolk. Why would I get ocean eyes?

Maybe because you’re a pixie and don’t fly well? Larry toggled the joystick on his power chair and spun around so he was more or less facing me. I mean, like, since you don’t have the sky, maybe your brain is compensating by drawing you toward the sea.

Maybe. I wasn’t so sure. Did you get your corporation paperwork filed?

Lawyer said we’re clear to close on Monday.

I will get that set up. You have a time preference? I pulled my phone out of my purse and grabbed a handful of twizzle-bits, my licorice nibbles I kept for sugar snacking. After tossing a couple in my mouth, I offered some to Larry. He nodded and held his hand out like Hoppy always did. Palm up, fingers wiggling.

Thanks, Twiz. He tilted his head back and dropped all four in his mouth at once. No preference. Mom said she’d watch the store to cover for me as needed.

I tapped out a text to the listing agent on the apartment building Larry was purchasing.

I’ll let you know as soon as I hear back. Manny will need to check with Penny Parler to see what her schedule is. And a week after we close, your money will be funding a new dive boat for Diego’s Dives.

Larry nodded. I heard Penny was pushing to get it named after her.

He held his hand out again and grinned. I laughed and dropped more licorice into his palm. After he chewed through those, he looked at me with a sly grin.

Did you hear who was out on Diego’s boat yesterday? You might get to sell her a house here in St. Mo.

I shook my head. Someone famous? Or wealthy?

Both. Misty Greene. She has her entourage with her. Larry got that giddy look guys get whenever they’re thinking of a hot date prospect. Wonder what she’s doing here?

On a Diego’s Dives boat. My guess is: diving? I shrugged. Blonde bombshell from Hollywood. I’ve read that she’s a demanding soul who is never happy.

She’s nearing the end of her career this go, Larry said. She’s about the same age as Nikki Flannigan. Nikki’s already retired so she can reset her identity. Misty Greene should be doing the same soon. Though being out with her entourage won’t help that happen.

How big a group? I had only met a few Hollywood types, so I had no idea what an entourage comprised. The Flannigans didn’t come with one. But like Larry said, they were resetting their identities. We long-lived fae needed to do that since we didn’t age like mundanes.

I should stop in at Nikki’s tea shop this week and check in on how they’re getting along here in St. Mo, I said.

Check out her shop’s new logo. I designed it for Nikki, Larry said with a smile. NaughTea Nibbles was too good a name to pass up working on.

The buzz of pixie wings fluttered behind me, and Kami landed on the open end of the bench, away from where Larry and his power chair sat. She popped into human size and slid into a sitting position.

Well, found out who the missing persons report is on, she said.

My phone as well as Larry’s buzzed with an alert tone.

That would be the alert notice now.

Oh! Crud! Larry’s face slid into a shocked expression. Misty Greene is missing. Didn’t come back to the hotel last night.

2

F aerocks! I bit my lower lip. That doesn’t sound good.

Kami raised an eyebrow. You one of her fans?

No, but if a star from Hollywood is missing, we’ll have every mundane news outlet worldwide here in twenty-four hours. I shuddered at that thought. Our little fae town on the California coast didn’t need media attention.

No worries… yet, Kami said. That’s a fae-only alert. As long as the mundane media doesn’t get wind of it, we’ll be fine.

Wow! Larry used his thumb to flip through screens on his phone. "Billie Quinn already has a piece up on the Chronicle’s web issue."

How did she get hold of it so fast? Kami cocked an eyebrow and leaned in to look at Larry’s phone.

Pardon me, a male voice said behind us. Officer, do you know if the Gundersen Charter Office is open today?

Gus is taking a personal day, Kami said. She wore her I’m being polite, but do I look like an information booth attendant? smile.

Just missed him by an hour. I waved toward the harbor. He and his son took their main boat out to do some fishing.

Drat! I need to get away from that pesky reporter. I hoped a boat would be available to rent.

You could try the beach rental shop. Larry pointed over at the bright-red shack to the south of the pier. They’ve got paddleboards, bikes, pedal boats, and kayaks.

Kami stood and smoothed her Beach Patrol uniform. Has Ms. Quinn been harassing you?

Quinn? Oh, the reporter. No, unfortunately she focused on Miss Paget. Don’t know why that officer didn’t listen when we asked about conducting the interview in our suite of rooms upstairs.

Harold conducted a missing person interview in the hotel lobby? Kami blew out a breath that was halfway to a sigh, then shook her head. She fixed her stern cop gaze on the gent. If Ms. Quinn is a bother, please let one of our officers know, Mr.…?

St. Felix, Joshua St. Felix, he said, then glanced at Larry and me, as though his name might mean something.

Ah! Larry’s eyes lit up. "St. Felix the screenwriter. Loved your rework of the Penguins of the Falklands documentary. Didn’t realize the life of penguins was so exciting. And the episodes you did for Star Sword, and the Temple of Rats."

"Star Sword? Rat Temple? I cocked my head at Larry. Are those shows?"

"Science fiction and fantasy. Well, Star Sword is more of a space samurai series, and Temple of Rats is fantasy with a dark vibe. It’s animated. He glanced up at Mr. St. Felix. You working with Misty Greene?"

Hope to. I’ve been pitching a treatment that could turn into a series or a feature film. A play on a mermaid’s tale. A crime drama with a mermaid sleuth. St. Felix smiled. He stepped over toward the railing and leaned back on it, sliding his hands into his jacket pockets. Fortunately, I’m friends with Miss Greene’s PA and was able to convince Miss Greene to come out here to get some time in the water. She’s actually got SCUBA certification but hasn’t spent any time with the merfolk. We thought this might be a good time to get Miss Greene acquainted with them.

Diego’s Dives has a program to get divers and merfolk interacting. Kami hooked a thumb over her shoulder toward Fish Town, where Diego kept his boat.

That was it exactly. Fun fellow, Diego. He and his mate were excellent, though I can’t say the same for that lady partner of his.

Ah. You mean Penny Parler. I let a sly smile sneak onto my face.

St. Felix nodded. She’s a case and a half, I’d say. Parler had to mask up and go down with us. Yesterday we used bubble helmets so we could talk with the merfolk and each other. We set up a charter with just the three of us to go out with Diego for tomorrow when that obnoxious woman wouldn’t insert herself into the dive. Miss Greene was most put out by the sarcastic attention from Parler. Those two evidently have a history, and not a good one.

History? I wonder where? I shrugged. But I suspect Penny would have been there with any Hollywood type, just for the attention.

She said she leads one of the covens in town, correct?

Larry scoffed. In her dreams.

St. Felix blushed.