Chapter 1
Tammy Moon and the Tooth Fairy
I’m in my bedroom, sitting at my desk with my laptop open, reading yet another article about the tooth-fairy mystery.
What in the missing cuspids is going on here?
I don’t know, but the story has my attention.
Between working part-time for Mom and dipping my toes into criminology classes at Fullerton College, our local community college, I’m still figuring out what I want to do long term.
Maybe an associate’s degree in criminology, maybe something higher. A bachelors or masters. We’ll see.
But right now, my focus is on something much closer to home: a magical mystery.
At least, I think it’s magical.
The headline glows from my laptop screen: Local Parents Report Increase in Children’s Sleep Disturbances.
The Orange County Register article is full of quotes from anxious moms and dads whose kids are suddenly terrified to fall asleep.
“It started when Emma lost her most recent tooth,” said one parent. “She put it under her pillow, like always, but instead of the tooth fairy bringing her money, Emma had terrible nightmares about something hideous trying to break into her bedroom.”
I glance at my closed bedroom door. The house is unusually quiet tonight: Mom’s off on one of her stranger PI jobs, Anthony’s at a friend’s, and Paxton is holed up in her own room doing whatever it is she does when she’s not following me around like a unicorn-obsessed shadow.
I take note of the names in the article, their cities, and, feeling a bit like a stalker, I search for their contact info.
No one’s hired me. This isn’t an official case, but I’ve decided to treat it as one.
The Moon family specializes in high strangeness, and I happened to have grown up in the world of fairies.
I run a few more names through mom’s proprietary network, a private eye tool that I was told to never abuse. Wasn’t technically abusing it. I mean, since my goal is to help restore something that seems out of order. When I come across a hit, I plug the address into my phone.
Time to go.
But I’m not going alone, not tonight. If there’s one thing I’ve learned being a Moon, it’s this: you don’t leave your little sister behind. Especially when there’s supernatural strangeness afoot.
I push away from my desk, cross my room, and head down the hallway to mom’s old office, now Paxton’s bedroom. There, I knock gently. “Hey Pax, wanna come on a ridealong with me? It might get super weird.”
The door cracks open ten seconds later. A single eyeball peers out, curious. “Is it magic weird?”
I grin. “Definitely magic weird. And it involves the tooth fairy.”
She lights up instantly. “I’ll get my shoes.”
Of course, by shoes, she means sparkly unicorn shoes that light up obnoxiously with each step.
We head to the front door, where I grab the keys to my silver Prius that’s parked in the driveway, usually next to the Momvan.
I hope with a full tank and clean interior.
It’s also equipped with a pair of old crime scene gloves Mom gave me once, stuffed in the center console. Because... you never know.
I grab a jacket from a hook by the door, make sure the house is locked, and click open the car door with Paxton trotting down the front walk behind me. Her sparkly unicorn knapsack is slung over one shoulder like we’re going on an adventure outdoors.
Then again, who knows where this case might lead us?
We climb in, and I start the engine.
If something supernatural is targeting children in Orange County, if something dark is slipping under pillows instead of a tiny fairy hand leaving some money, it’s time for me to step in.
Who better than a fairy detective?
With the name and address of the first family already plugged into my phone, we head out.
As unlikely a crime fighting duo as you’ll ever see.