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

by K. J. Emrick

  He nodded and leaned back in his chair, tossing his hands in the air. “Not everyone likes me, but I thought everyone respected me.”

  A memory nagged at Darcy’s mind. What had Carson Middlemiss said about the mayor? That he had raised taxes, and now Carson might lose his business. Yes. That was it. Would that be a reason to want Mayor Wasson dead?

  While that thought was growing in Darcy’s mind Donnie stood up and went to his front window. He pulled back the red curtains covering the glass to peer outside. “Two weeks ago, I got an anonymous letter in the mail. It told me to step down as mayor of Bear Ridge or there would be consequences. I didn’t take it seriously. I mean, my pop had gotten any number of threatening notes back when he was mayor. There’s always somebody upset at you no matter what you do. Figured it was no biggie, right?”

  He sighed and let the curtain fall back into place. “Then last week I get this.”

  Turning to a bookcase next to the window he picked up a piece of folded paper from one of the shelves. He brought it over to Jon, and he unfolded it to reveal a note made from cut out letters, glued to the page.

  “YOUR A DEAD MAN.”

  No signature, and without asking Darcy knew there would have been no return address. Maybe a better sleuth than Darcy could have looked at the way the letters were cut out and know that the suspect was left handed or nearsighted or walked with a limp and had a chimpanzee named Bonzo, but this wasn’t a plot from some murder mystery. This was real life. The only clue she could gather from the note was that whoever had sent it wasn’t a very careful speller. It should have read “YOU’RE,” not “YOUR.”

  They handed it back to Donnie and he looked at it with a grimace. “When I got this I figured it was a good time to send my wife and son to go see her mother. It’s a days’ ride, but at least I know they’re safe. Something about this note just gave me a bad feeling. Nice to see I wasn’t being paranoid, I guess.”

  “Sir,” Jon asked him, “can you think of anyone who would really want to hurt you? Have you upset anyone? I mean, more than usual? More so than the usual small town politics would account for?”

  Now that Darcy had spent a little time talking to Donnie, she could see how stressed he was behind that smile he kept turning on and off. He sat down in his chair again and ran his hands through his short, dark hair, thinking about Jon’s question and finally shaking his head. “No, actually. I can’t. I mean, I’ve tried to do good things for Bear Ridge. I authorized the land use study that the town council has been begging the Mayor’s office for since back in my dad’s time. I even gave the go ahead for a new road up the backside of the mountain to decrease traffic for the peak of tourist season in the wintertime.”

  He stood up again, pacing, using his hands to illustrate his points. “Did I raise taxes? Sure. Did that make some people mad? I suppose so. But I can’t advance the town without funds and in the off season, like now, there just isn’t that much tourist revenue. We need to come together as a town to make these things happen.”

  It sort of felt like listening to a campaign speech. Darcy wasn’t sure if she should take him seriously or not. He sounded sincere, but so did a lot of politicians. “So the only people you can think of who might want to kill you are the people whose taxes you raised?” she asked. That didn’t really narrow down their suspect list.

  “Just the business owners, I suppose,” Donnie griped. “Some of them, anyway. The municipal departments, like the Fire Department and the Police and the Public Works people, they actually stand to gain a lot by the increase in taxes. Especially if that land use study comes back the way myself and the town council expect. We think we have a good shot at getting a national hotel chain up here. I’m pushing for an arena to host events like concerts and the like. That hasn’t been a popular idea, I admit, but we need to have something to generate revenue even in the off season. Once we do that we can reduce taxes again. It’s a win-win, but a lot of people don’t want to see it that way.”

  “Right,” Darcy said as the pieces came together. “People who might lose their stores and businesses in the meantime don’t see it that way, you mean.”

  People, she added to herself, like Carson Middlemiss.

  Chapter Eight

  It was early afternoon when Darcy stepped back into the Golden Bear Bookstore. She was alone. Jon had tried to insist on coming with her but she had just as firmly, but gently, insisted she go in by herself. There was a time to play the cop card and there were times that being just an ordinary person could get better results.

  “Well hey there,” Carson called to her as he looked up from paperwork he was sorting through at the checkout counter. He put his pen aside, sorted the papers together, and shut them into a manila folder. Darcy tried to get a look at what they said but he did it so quickly they were hidden away before she got close enough to see.

  She watched him slide the folder across the counter to the side, wondering what could be so important in it that he didn’t want her to see.

  Maybe nothing, she thought. Maybe it was just her suspicions running wild.

  And maybe it was something worse.

  When she looked up again, Carson was smiling at her from behind his beard. “What brings you back to my humble shop so soon?” he asked.

  She’d had this all carefully rehearsed. “I wanted to ask what you thought about maybe signing some of your books before I bring them back with me to Misty Hollow to sell. They might fetch a higher price with an autograph.”

  His eyes lit up and he tapped his hands against the counter in a fast little rhythm. “That is an excellent idea! What do you think? Five, maybe ten signed copies?”

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” she agreed readily, nodding her head, glad he bought the cover story. “Since I’m here already, do you want to maybe sign those copies and then give me the box to take now?”

  He checked his watch, considering. “Well, it’s an hour before quitting time for me. Not likely to get any more customers in today. Sure. Now is good. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

  Darcy waited until he was gone through the door to the office in the back and then quickly pulled the manila folder closer and opened it. She leafed through the first few pages, financial statements and legal documents. It was all a confusing list of numbers and long paragraphs. It didn’t mean much to her until she saw the next page.

  The deed to a parcel of property stared back at her. According to the document, it was right up near the Lonely Cub resort where she and Jon and JoEllen were staying. Up on the mountain itself. If she was reading it correctly, Carson owned the property.

  A moment of insight caught her in a flash. She flipped back to one of the first pages and sure enough, there was exactly what she remembered. It hadn’t made sense to her when she’d first seen it, at first. It did now.

  The town of Bear Ridge wanted to take that land for their own through an eminent domain claim. What had the mayor said? They wanted to build an arena, to draw in tourism. To offer concerts and that sort of thing.

  Carson was going to lose his property to the town if that happened. He was already worried about losing his shop from the increased taxes. If anyone had a reason to want Mayor Donnie Wasson dead, Carson certainly did. She’d just found his motive.

  She was just putting the pages back together, aware of how much time she had taken already, when Carson came back through the door. She shoved the folder back to where he had left it and smiled at him as he carefully placed a box of books down in front of her on the counter.

  “Here you go,” he said, obviously thrilled to be sharing his written word with another bookstore owner. “Plenty of copies of me for you to sell. Like I said before, we can work out the details later. Got a suggested sale price on the dust jacket but you can just work it up or down depending on what you think will work for you.”

  Smiling, thanking him and trying to make it look like this was all she had come back for, she started to turn away when her eyes fell on the folder
next to the box. The corners of a few of the pages were sticking out. She hadn’t had time to put them all back neatly. If Carson noticed…

  “Well, I have to be going,” she said to him. She hefted the box, which had a lot of weight to it with all those hardcover books, and started out of the shop. “Thanks again, Carson. Shoot me an e-mail as soon as you can, all right?”

  Almost to the door, she heard him call her name.

  “Hey, Darcy?”

  Cringing inside, certain that he had noticed how she had been snooping inside his folder, Darcy turned around, placing her back to the door in case she needed to push through and escape. “Yes?”

  His left hand was over the folder. His huge fingers spread possessively over it. Darcy’s mind began yelling at her that she needed to run, run now, run fast, but then Carson smiled, and touched the brim of his floppy hat. “Good luck. With the books, I mean.”

  “Oh. Right. Thanks,” she stammered, backing her way out of the Golden Bear Bookstore.

  She didn’t start breathing again until she had taken five whole steps without anything happening.

  ***

  They sat in Darcy and Jon’s cabin an hour later, puzzling through what Darcy had found out.

  JoEllen fisted her hands on the little table in the room just like Darcy had seen her do at lunch. “So this Carson Middlemiss is the one who killed my Audie? Kidnapped my son?”

  Sitting next to Jon on the bed, Darcy twisted her antique silver ring around her finger again and again. The design on its surface played out under her fingers in an endless pattern. It made her feel a little better to know she was still connected to her Aunt Millie in this small way.

  Was Carson the person blackmailing JoEllen? That was the question they had kicked around for the last twenty minutes. “It certainly looks that way,” Darcy finally said. “He has plenty of motive. If Donnie resigns as mayor, or dies, it isn’t likely that whoever takes over is going to go ahead with his plan to build an arena. It isn’t a very popular idea, especially since it means the town will take land away from people with no compensation. So, Carson tried to scare Donnie out of the position of mayor. When that didn’t work, he must have decided killing Donnie was his only choice. Otherwise, he’s going to lose everything he has.”

  JoEllen nodded, but she didn’t seem to feel any better that they were one step closer to finding her son. If anything, she looked even more stressed than before. “So he hired me, so to speak, by kidnapping my son.”

  “And when Audie went after him,” Jon added, “he had to kill him first.”

  “So why not just kill the mayor himself?” JoEllen wondered out loud.

  Jon was ready with an explanation for that. “Probably because of how public a killing like that would be. There will be questions, an investigation, media attention. Some tourist passing through is one thing. A public official is something else entirely. He’s probably worried that doing it himself will get him caught. So he’s going to use you, as a professional, to keep his distance from it all.”

  Keep his distance from it, Darcy thought to herself. She frowned. It made sense that Carson had been forced to kill Audie Berkstone. One more missing person among several wouldn’t be noticed. Jon was right, though, that killing the mayor of even a small town would draw too much attention. So he was forcing JoEllen to do it for him. That part, she understood. But how had Carson known JoEllen was going to be here in the first place? How did he find out about her being a professional killer? That wasn’t exactly something a person advertised in the help wanted section.

  “Fine,” JoEllen suddenly said, breaking Darcy’s train of thoughts. “So now that we know where to look I’m going to get my son back.”

  She stood up, not waiting for them to argue with her, and headed straight for the door. It was Jon who stopped her with a simple question. “How?”

  When JoEllen spun back on them Darcy could see the anger in her eyes. A lion couldn’t have growled as menacingly as the petite blonde killer did. “I’m going over to his place, and get my son back,” she repeated.

  Jon stood up to face her. Darcy was surprised at how calm he was. Her nerves were on edge and her stomach felt like it was tied in knots. If JoEllen really wanted to get at Carson, could either of them stop her? Maybe it was Jon’s police training, or maybe just his own compassion, but he didn’t back down from JoEllen. “What are you going to do? Are you going to kill Carson?”

  She shrugged, not budging from where she stood. “It’s what I do.”

  “But not who you are,” he said. “You were trying to give that life up, remember? You were giving it up for Connor.”

  “I’d do anything for my son. Anything.”

  “Then think. Do that much for him. Darcy and I have had experience with kidnappings. Her brother-in-law was taken not all that long ago, and we very nearly didn’t get him back. What happens if you go over there, shoot Carson in the chest, and leave him bleeding on the floor?”

  “Then,” JoEllen said with a smile that Darcy definitely did not like, “I get Connor back.”

  Jon simply shook his head and took another step toward her. “And if Connor isn’t there? Have you thought about the possibility that Carson is keeping your son somewhere besides his home? Or his shop? You can kill Carson, fine, and I’m sure that will feel good considering what he did to Audie, but how does that help you get your son back?”

  The intensity of JoEllen’s anger faded. “Then I’ll torture the information out of him. I’m not just a killer, you know. I have other skills.”

  Darcy didn’t doubt it.

  “Skills or not,” Jon said, with another step that nearly closed the gap between him and JoEllen, “how long would it take to torture the information out of Carson? Hours? Days? Do you think Connor has that long? What if you slip up and kill him before he tells you where your son is? We might never find Connor if we do it your way.”

  “What are you going to do, cop? Arrest me?”

  “No,” Jon said, without returning any of her hostility. “I’m not going to arrest you. I’m going to help you.”

  JoEllen squeezed her eyes shut. A single tear leaked out and ran down her cheek. “All right,” she relented. “All right, all right, all right! I just want my son back. I want my son!”

  As her words rang in the small cabin, Jon closed the rest of the distance between them. Darcy had been surprised at the compassion he had shown JoEllen. She was even more surprised now when he reached out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get him back. You just have to trust me and Darcy.”

  When JoEllen opened her eyes again the tears had dried. Her gaze was intense, and maybe more even a little vulnerable. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “I don’t want you to do anything.“ As JoEllen started to protest he held up his hand. “I want you to stay here with Darcy. I’m going to follow Carson. I’ll see where he goes and what he does. I’ll find Connor. He has to be checking on him, wherever he’s got him hidden.”

  Darcy caught Jon’s eye with a raised eyebrow. This was part of the plan they hadn’t discussed. He shrugged and came back over to her on the bed, kneeling down in front of her, holding her hands. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, Darcy. He knows you now, so you can’t follow him around without it seeming suspicious. If he sees JoEllen, he’ll know we’re on to him. I’m the only logical choice. I’ve got the experience with doing stakeouts and he’s never seen my face.”

  It was hard to argue with that. Still, she twisted her ring around and around her finger and waited for someone to come up with a better idea. When no one did, she nodded and leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. They shared a silent moment where words weren’t needed.

  “I’ll come back to you, sweet baby,” he told her, calling her by that special nickname. “I promise.”

  She followed him to the door of the cabin while he put on his shoulder holster with its .40 caliber automatic held snugly in place. JoEllen’s gun was now in t
he glove compartment of his locked car. She hadn’t asked for it back. They hadn’t offered. Everyone seemed happier that way.

  Their kiss goodbye was long and slow and liquid. It felt like it lasted forever. For Darcy, it wasn’t long enough.

  Then he was gone and Darcy was locking the door behind him.

  She stood there, collecting her thoughts and emotions, letting this crazy day finally catch up to her. She didn’t realize exactly how long she had been standing like that until JoEllen cleared her throat behind her. “It’s easy to see how in love you two are.”

  Darcy didn’t know what to say to that. Of course she loved Jon. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this way about any other man, including her late ex-husband Jeff. When she thought of Jon, her whole world seemed brighter somehow, like he made things better just by being in her life. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man.

  But did he feel the same way?

  Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, Darcy looked away from JoEllen and went to sit back down on the bed, carefully studying the floor. She knew she was blushing. This weekend was supposed to be the time Jon and she needed to explore their relationship and see where they stood with each other. She’d made her feelings clear to him. Everything out in the open. It seemed like he had been starting to open up to her in return, just as this whole mystery had caught them up in its tangled lines.

  Well. Yesterday had been fantastic, at least. Just the two of them, finding intimate ways to express their love. Then JoEllen had come crashing into their lives and everything else had been pushed aside. Today was almost over, and she could pretty much figure that once Jon found where Carson was hiding Connor, that would take up most of tomorrow as well. The whole weekend was pretty much a wash.

  “I mean,” JoEllen said when Darcy didn’t respond, “he seems like he has…well, like he’s…”

  “Got a stick up his butt?” Darcy offered, unable to keep from smiling at that image. “It’s part of his persona. Jon sort of wears his badge like a second skin.”