K.J. Emrick - Darcy Sweet 11 - Resorting to Murder

by K. J. Emrick

  “Darcy,” she corrected with a small laugh. “Call me Darcy. Mind if I look around some more? You’ve got some very interesting books here.”

  “Please do. I’ll be back there with the register if you want to buy anything. Enjoying our town?”

  “Very much,” Darcy told him honestly. “My boyfriend and I are going hiking later with someone we met up at the Lonely Cub Resort. I’m hoping to get some nice photographs of the views and maybe find some interesting rocks to bring home…”

  She trailed off. Carson’s expression had darkened until he was nearly scowling now. “Carson? Is something wrong?”

  With a shake of his broad shoulders, he seemed to come to himself and his smile returned. “Oh. No, everything’s fine. Hiking, you say? Whereabouts were thinking of going?”

  “Well, I’m not really sure. We’ve never been up here before. The woman we met at the cabins suggested it. She’s been here before, apparently. Why?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just some of those trails up there are dangerous. Private property up there, too. If you don’t know where you’re going you just might end up somewhere you shouldn’t.”

  She wasn’t sure what he was getting at. “Well, I guess we’ll have to trust our guide. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  He nodded his head, making his beard bob, his eyes narrowed. “I see. I see. Well, you might want to stay away from the ski trails. I know a lot of tourists use ‘em for hiking trails, but it just isn’t safe up there. Not for young ladies such as yourself.”

  The words were ominous and spoken with a sincerity that made Darcy’s skin crawl. Instead of making her afraid, though, they just piqued her curiosity. “Why? What’s so dangerous up there?”

  Carson didn’t answer at first. He worked the inside of his cheeks like he was trying to decide whether to let the words out. “People,” he finally said, “should learn to stay out of the deep woods. Got a few stories in my book about that, too. Lots of hikers go missing up there every year. Had one disappear not too long ago, for that matter. Few weeks back. Went up, didn’t come back. Sheriff’s been looking for him ever since.”

  He pointed to a corkboard over near the wall, set up on an easel tripod because the wall space was all being used for books. On it were notices for garage sales and food drives. In the middle of it all was a larger one with the word MISSING printed in bold type across the top over the face of a smiling man with dark hair and narrow eyes.

  “Audie Berkstone,” Carson explained. “He’s just the latest. Some kind of businessman from out of state, from what I understand. Went hiking one day last week, wasn’t ever heard from again. They searched Mount Borealis for days without finding anything. Sheriff’s still investigating.”

  Darcy’s attention was riveted to the face on the notice. Could that be the man she had seen buried in a shallow grave in her vision? There hadn’t been a face to see, only JoEllen lying on her side in the mud, crying…

  “Well,” Carson’s booming voice startled her out of her thoughts. “I s’pose I should leave you to your browsing. Just, please hear my advice. Stay off the ski trails. Off the mountain, too.”

  Then he turned and walked away.

  Darcy picked his words apart for a long time after that as she looked over the spines of the other books, giving herself something to do while her mind worked. She was sure there had been a death here in Bear Ridge. That was the whole point to her vision. A buried dead man meant murder in her mind. Someone had to bury him. Put that together with the missing hiker in that poster and Carson’s warning to stay off the very trails she had seen in her vision, and what did that add up to?

  A cold chill spread up her spine. Could Carson be the murderer? Could this big, amiable, laughing man with his shaggy beard be capable of killing someone? Burying them in the dirt? What possible motive could he have?

  Then another thought came to her. Did Carson tell her to stay off the ski trails because he was worried she’d stumble across the grave of Audie Berkstone?

  The man he’d killed?

  Darcy shook her head in answer to her own thoughts. Maybe it was just too early to know either way, or maybe her instincts were trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe Carson had murdered anyone. What had her Aunt Millie always told her? Keep an open mind. You can’t hear the chatter from the other side, or even know your own thoughts, unless you keep your mind open.

  Good advice. With a smile, she put that thought into her own words. Don’t judge a book by its cover.

  Her hand stopped, hovering over the spine of one single book among several lined up in a neat row under a sign painted blue, big yellow letters with stars around them spelling out “Paranormal and Witchcraft.” The book was a heavy tome with a brown leather cover, the way they used to make books before cheaper materials proved more cost effective. Down the spine was a title she recognized.

  “Spirit Tales.” She owned this book. It was back home in Misty Hollow now, on a shelf in her living room, its pages very familiar to her. She’d read it through five times already. There were tales of ghosts and spirit sightings from several different townships across this part of the country. There was even one from Misty Hollow. The tale of Nathaniel Williams, a pilgrim settler who had been hung for witchcraft on the very spot where the Town Hall of Darcy’s hometown now stood.

  Darcy hadn’t believed the tale at first, but for a while now every time she had been inside the Town Hall she had sensed a terrible presence bearing down on her, like a shadowy figure glaring at her. Every time she turned to see who was there, she found nothing. Not even a ghost. It was like something was there that did not want to be seen. Not by her, at any rate. Then once last week she thought she’d heard a voice—

  “Well, fancy meeting you here.”

  Darcy spun, startled, books falling off the shelf as her hand grabbed at them unintentionally. Immediately, she felt foolish. She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn’t recognized JoEllen’s voice.

  JoEllen had dressed for the day in a button up blue blouse and a pair of khaki shorts that left her shapely legs bare. She was ready for their hike, obviously. Now, Darcy’s cheeks heated and she hastily bent to pick the books back up and replace them on the shelf. They were supposed to be acting casual around JoEllen to learn what they could about her, not scare her away by jumping every time they saw her.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. That was clumsy of me,” Darcy said, putting the last book back in place. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  “Yes. Obviously.” JoEllen’s tone was amused, but her eyes were calculating. “So do you like mushrooms?”

  Darcy blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I did it again.” JoEllen laughed with a small shake of her head. “I started at the end instead of the beginning. We were going to get lunch today, right? So, this restaurant in town, BoBo’s, has the most amazing cheeseburger with mushrooms. I was wondering if you liked mushrooms?”

  Darcy actually hated mushrooms, on her hamburgers or anything else. She didn’t want to put JoEllen off, though, so. “Wow, that sounds good,” she said. “I know Jon loves mushrooms. That will really make his day.”

  “Probably. Men can be so hard to please, don’t you think? Sometimes you just want to pack them up in a little box and…hold them hostage.”

  JoEllen looked at her so oddly when she said it that Darcy didn’t know what to think. It certainly wasn’t a normal thing to say. Darcy’s own brother-in-law had been kidnapped during a botched robbery earlier this year. He and her sister Grace were still trying to get over the trauma from it even as they prepared to have their first child. Kidnapping was nothing to joke about.

  “Well, anyway,” JoEllen said quickly into Darcy’s silence. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your shopping trip. I’ll let you get back to it. See you at lunch?”

  “Sure,” Darcy said, finding her voice again. “Uh, what brought you into town so early? Shopping, like me and Jon?”
r />   “Oh, no. Not me. I don’t really care for books.”

  She said it with a shrug, and Darcy was more irritated by that than anything the woman had done yet.

  “Say, where is that boyfriend of yours?” JoEllen asked her, completely missing the frown that had crossed Darcy’s face.

  “He’s…down the street somewhere. He wanted to go window shopping or something.” She suddenly didn’t want this woman to know where Jon was. Something was definitely odd about her, and Darcy had the feeling it was the kind of odd that got people hurt when they weren’t careful around JoEllen Meyers.

  “Ah. I see. Well, see you at lunch. Remember, the place is called BoBo’s. You’ll love the burgers there, I promise!”

  With another of those backwards waves of hers, JoEllen stepped across to the door and was gone.

  She stood there for long minutes, watching the street through the big windows to either side of the door, but JoEllen didn’t return. Darcy had a fleeting thought that maybe she should just tell Jon they’d had enough makeup time and ask him to take her back to Misty Hollow. She shook off the desire to up and leave. That wasn’t the kind of person she was. Trouble had a way of finding her, but she didn’t run from it when it did.

  Her gift, as far as she was concerned, was something she should use to help people. Sometimes she just had to go wherever it led her. Right now, it was leading her to a shallow grave out in the woods. And, to JoEllen. It wasn’t time to leave Bear Ridge yet.

  It might just be time to get some help, though. Picking up Carson’s book she went back to the register to pay for it. Then she was going to find Jon.

  As she passed the corkboard she snagged the missing person poster from it and folded it into her pocket. Carson would be able to tell her where the Sheriff’s Office was in town. Right now, after the encounter she’d just had with JoEllen, she felt like getting the local police involved would be a very good idea.

  Chapter Three

  Jon had a new fishing rod and a small plastic box with different shaped lures on the backseat of his car. He was grinning from ear to ear, tilting the rearview mirror to look back at his purchases every so often as they drove through the lazy streets of Bear Ridge.

  “What?” he asked her at one point when he noticed her watching him from the corner of her eye.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “I think it’s great that you have a new hobby.”

  “Oh, good. Because I’ll need someone to clean the fish I catch.”

  “Ew. No way!”

  “Sure. You’ll love it. And digging for worms is a blast.”

  She turned in her seat toward him. “You are joking, right? Tell me you’re joking.”

  They were pulling into the parking area in front of the Sheriff’s Office at that point. He put the car in park, and looked at her with a wink. She couldn’t tell if he had been kidding with her. There was no way she was gutting a fish. Yuck.

  They sat there like that, staring at the front of the Sheriff’s Office, while the seconds ticked past. It was a one story, brown brick building with lighter stonework around the windows and double front doors that were almost entirely glass. A round emblem with a five-pointed star was secured on the wall to the left of the doors with the department name, Bear Ridge Sheriff’s Office, under it. Two windows at the far right of the building were secured behind metal bars. Holding cells, Darcy figured.

  Jon finally said what they were both thinking. “I’m not sure I like this plan.”

  “Well, it’s not any more crazy than our plans usually are.”

  He tapped a rhythm against the steering wheel with his thumbs. “I don’t have a problem with letting the local police know what’s going on, or asking for their help for that matter. I just don’t know what we’re supposed to say to them. We can’t just go in there and say you had a vision of a dead man in a grave. They’ll think we’re crazy.”

  “Not both of us. Just me,” she corrected him.

  “Yes, but what does it say about me,” he asked her, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek, “that I’m helping a woman as crazy as you?”

  “Ha. You’re funny. Come on,” she said, opening the car door. “I know you’ll think of something.”

  ***

  The lobby of the Bear Ridge Sheriff’s Office had a wide window at the counter with a sliding glass partition and a little metal bell meant to be rung for service. A number of notices were posted just inside the door for the public to view. There was a page with pictures of the FBI’s ten most wanted. There were legal notices of property for sale. Other pages were too crammed with small type for Darcy to read quickly. What did catch her eye, was an entire row of missing posters showing faces and names of people who had disappeared in Bear Ridge. Five in all.

  At the top of the row was Audie Berkstone’s picture. Darcy pointed to it. Jon nodded.

  Someone was already at the service window waiting for them. He waved them over as he unlocked the glass window and slid it open. He was an older man with steel gray hair and a chiseled jaw and eyes that had already weighed and measured both Darcy and Jon by the time they’d taken five steps. He wore a brown uniform with black pocket flaps and shoulder lapels. His badge was the same as the one on the sign out front, a five pointed star, polished to a shine. His nameplate read Rockwood.

  “Hi there, folks,” he said in a kindly, deep voice. “What can I do for you today?”

  “Are you the Sheriff?” Jon asked him.

  He smiled back at them with obvious pride. “I am. Been the Sheriff here for going on fifteen years, matter of fact. Name’s Ben Rockwood. You folks staying up at the Lonely Cub?”

  “That’s right.” Jon put his hand out to Sheriff Rockwood. “Hi, Sheriff. My name is Jon Tinker. I’m a Detective from a little place named Misty Hollow. My girlfriend Darcy and I are staying the weekend in town and I was telling her how much I enjoy stopping in to local police agencies when I’m in new towns.”

  The Sheriff shook Jon’s hand firmly and they began talking in cop speak about their two departments, comparing manpower and equipment and so on. Darcy stood there with a smile on her face, the patient girlfriend, letting Jon work his magic until they could find a way to slip the missing Audie Berkstone into the conversation.

  “Small town policing is all I’ve ever known,” Sheriff Rockwood told them. “Love the work and the people. Faces don’t change much around here. Just the tourists coming and going.”

  “Speaking of that,” Jon said, “I couldn’t help noticing the missing posters on the way in. Looks like this Audie Berkstone disappeared just last week?”

  The Sheriff rubbed a hand back over his buzzed gray hair. “Yes. Near as we can figure, he went for a hike up on Mount Borealis and never came back. I had my deputies and the fire department do a grid search. Found a backpack we think might have been his, but nothing else.”

  “Sounds like a real headache,” Jon offered. “Like I said I’m a detective for my department. I’m only here for the weekend but I’d be happy to help if I can.”

  Rockwood waved the offer away. “I appreciate that, Jon. I know we look small time here. Most of the time my people don’t have anything to do but hand out parking tickets to tourists. But we’re more than capable of handling something as simple as a tourist gone missing in our woods.”

  “More than just the one disappearance, though. Right?”

  Darcy could tell by the expression on Rockwood’s face that he was becoming annoyed. Maybe he saw Jon’s offer to help as an outsider telling him how to run his department. “Yes. Thing is, a lot of tourists come into Bear Ridge with the idea they can just strike out into the woods without being prepared. Then something happens, and next thing you know they can’t find their way back again.” He shrugged, like it was something he just couldn’t help. “Maybe if people read the warning signs on the trails, they wouldn’t go missing like that.”

  “I suppose you’re right, Sheriff.” Jon nodded, slowly. “But then, where are the bodies?”


  “Well now, if I knew that,” Rockwood said guardedly, “then they wouldn’t be missing, would they? I got a meeting with some people soon, Detective Tinker. It was good to meet you. Hope you enjoy your stay.

  Darcy felt completely dismissed when he turned to her with a quick “Ma’am” before closing the glass partition and walking away into the interior of the building.

  Jon turned to her, an eyebrow arched. “That went great. Just like we planned.”

  “Better than some of our plans,” Darcy agreed, taking his hand and smiling up at him. “I think you might have stepped on his ego.”

  “Any police officer who can’t take an offer of help without getting his feathers ruffled isn’t taking his job seriously. He’s got people going missing in his town. He should be begging for help. Not turning it away.”

  Darcy kissed his cheek and they left, empty handed. “Not every cop is as good at their job as you are,” she told him. She meant it. Jon was amazing at what he did, and he loved his job.

  He squeezed her hand tighter. “If I’m amazing, it’s because I’m with you.”

  “Oh, so you weren’t amazing when you weren’t with me?” She couldn’t help putting that little dig in. She hadn’t let him off the hook for leaving her alone for all that time. Not yet, anyway.

  He stopped at their car, and turned her into him, his gaze holding her in place. “I’m nothing without you, Darcy Sweet.”

  Her heart thumped harder and heat flushed through her. “You should say things like that more often.”

  “How about every night. For the rest of our lives.”

  “Mmm,” she murmured, stepping into him, holding him tight. “Yes please.”

  Wait. Darcy listened to his words again in her mind and had to wonder if maybe he had meant something more? The rest of their lives? Did he mean…?

  She leaned back, still in his arms, meaning to ask him to say it again. Instead, a prickling sensation all along her skin set off alarm bells for her and she knew something was wrong. That’s when she saw the shadows move in the hedge row bordering the parking lot.