Til Death Do Us Part

by K. J. Emrick

  She didn’t tell him that she hadn’t actually read that part in the records. That was information she had straight from her dream. She was sure it would be in the church records, too. No reason to bother Jon with the other details. Like dancing cats.

  “I knew there was a reason I was marrying you,” he whispered. Then his lips were pressing against hers and there was a long moment where the only thing she could hear was the beating of her own heart.

  “I’ll get the records in the morning,” he promised when they paused for breath. “They should tell us what we’re looking for. After that I can put out the information to the pawn shops and jewelry stores in the area. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  It was nice to have him take her seriously, to know she could contribute to his police work without him laughing off her abilities as so much hokey nonsense. She loved him deeply and it was nice to know he loved her in return.

  In her mind’s eye, she remembered the way Oscar had looked at Florence in the dream. It reminded her of the way Jon’s eyes would light up when she came into a room. The way he would smile at her, or touch her hand without even realizing he was doing it.

  Or the way he would walk with her upstairs, like now, to their bedroom. The way he would whisper three words to her as they slowly undressed each other.

  “I love you.”

  Chapter Six

  That Thursday morning was one of the busiest Darcy could remember in a long time at the Sweet Read bookstore. If she thought Izzy had been excited about one box of bones, she was positively ecstatic to learn Jon and Darcy had found more.

  So was the whole town.

  There must be twenty people in the bookstore this morning. Some of them were locals from in town. She saw Isaac Gibbs talking to Rosie Weaver. Evelyn Casey was here, too, animatedly discussing the whole bizarre affair with one of several tourists drawn into Misty Hollow following the news reports by Brianna Watson and others.

  Darcy had seen a constant line of cars coming off Applegate Road earlier when she came in to open the shop. Some of them were tourists gawking at the cemetery. A lot of them had news agency logos printed across their doors or their hoods. Television and newspaper both. This was one of the bigger stories to come out of Misty Hollow in a while.

  Which was why all of the people in town couldn’t stop talking about it.

  Darcy heard the same conversations played out a dozen times. Finding the bodies packaged away like they were, getting into the graves and finding them empty, everyone wondering if there were more bodies taken and yet to be found.

  Worse, several people in the store wouldn’t stop staring at Darcy. She was in the middle of the story, after all. Her and Jon both. Baxter Sams may be the new coroner, and he might even be the guy who started the whole investigation by finding the first box, but he wasn’t the one who had gone to Maven Sirles’ house to find six more boxes full of bones. That was Darcy. Oh, and did you hear she was there when all of the graves were dug up?

  For the most part Darcy tried to ignore it all. She answered the few questions she was asked with information people already had. People were looking for gossip, but she wasn’t willing to give it. Eventually everyone returned to whispering to each other, sipping coffee at the few reading tables she had in the store, or huddled together in the stacks like conspirators.

  Izzy went from group to group, gathering information and parceling it out again. Considering she had been a virtual shut-in when she first came to town, Darcy was glad her friend could be this open and engaged with other people again. It almost made her forget how much she hated gossip.

  Darcy sighed, and pretended to wipe at a non-existent spot on the puffy blue sleeve of her blouse so she could avoid eye contact with a group of locals over in the classic fiction section. At least people were buying books while they were here. She’d rung up more sales today than she had for the rest of the week combined.

  “Don’t you have a wedding to plan?”

  Standing behind the sales counter with her face carefully turned away from everyone, Darcy hadn’t noticed Brianna Watson come in. Now the reporter was standing right here and there was no way to avoid her. She was smiling with that little smirk and her eyes gleamed, hot on the trail of a big story.

  “I have almost two weeks before the ceremony,” Darcy said brightly, happy to talk about anything other than stolen bones. “Most of it is already planned. We’re going to have the reception in the park. Or maybe at the new Town Hall. It would be the first big function there since they finished rebuilding it. Have you seen it? It’s beautiful.”

  Brianna’s smile slipped just a little. She tugged at the collar of her coat with one hand. “That’s nice. The Town Hall is old news, though. What I’m interested in is the bones from the cemetery.”

  So much for throwing her off the scent with talk of the wedding, Darcy thought to herself. The woman was a bloodhound when it came to news. “I’m sorry,” she tried instead. “I have customers to take care of. I’m afraid I don’t have time to chit chat.”

  Bringing her other hand up from her side, Brianna set down a book on the counter. Her smile flared again. “I’d like to buy this, please. There. Now you have time to talk to me.”

  It was a copy of “A View From The Mountain.” The last copy from the display in the front window. She was surprised to see Brianna with it.

  The reporter shrugged. “It looked interesting. This author, Carson Middlemiss? He was one of the victims up in Bear Ridge, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Darcy admitted carefully. Carson had been the main suspect, actually, until he ended up dead. Now his picture smiled up at her from the dust cover of his book.

  “Well, well, well,” Brianna purred. “You do seem to end up in the middle of everything, don’t you?”

  “I suppose that depends on what you mean by being in the middle.” Darcy thought that had to be the lamest comeback ever. She tried again. “I mean, Jon is actually the one doing everything. I’m just there to help. When I can. If I can, I mean.”

  She closed her mouth tightly before she could sound any more stupid than she already had, and concentrated on Brianna’s purchase. She knew there would be more questions to come. There didn’t seem to be any way out of it.

  Looking around for help, her eyes caught a quick glance out the front window past the reading tables. In the town center, on a park bench, sat a tall woman wearing a narrow-brimmed hat pinned at a slanting angle to her warm brown hair.

  Darcy’s eyebrows scrunched together. It was the same woman. Why was she back in town? She was just sitting there, reading the book she’d bought from Darcy two days ago. Her legs were crossed and her foot was bouncing in the air and she looked totally relaxed and content to sit there all day.

  Then Darcy saw her lift her head up. She looked up and down the sidewalk around her, intently, then went back to her book.

  Darcy knew that look. Whoever this woman was, she was waiting for someone. Waiting, or looking. Coincidence was one thing. This woman showing up, out of the blue, just when bodies were popping up in boxes? That was too much for Darcy to accept as coincidence.

  There had to be some connection.

  Brianna waved a hand in front of her face. “Hello? Did I lose you?”

  “Hmm? What?” Darcy brought her attention back to the inside of the store, smoothing her features to what she hoped was a neutral expression.

  Too late. Brianna leaned forward, her smile was all teeth. “You know something, don’t you? That magic Darcy Sweet radar going off?”

  “Magic radar? What are you talking about?”

  “Whatever you call it. You have a knack, Darcy. You know things, you find things. I don’t know how you do it, but you do. You would have made a great reporter. So tell me. What’s the story?”

  “Brianna, I can’t…look, if you want to know anything about this you have to talk to Jon. Sorry. It’s a police matter, you know.”

  The look of utter frustration on Brianna’s face was almost
gratifying. “Izzy,” she called across the store. “Can you watch the counter for me? I need to check on something.”

  She was out the door before Izzy even got her answer out, leaving Brianna Watson in her wake.

  It was another unseasonably warm day. Darcy hoped that didn’t mean the day of her wedding would be too hot. The breeze today was warm, like spring, but in two weeks would it feel like summer? Her dress was perfect, and she looked extremely cute in it, but nobody looked cute when they were bathed in sweat.

  March twentieth had seemed like the perfect date for a wedding when Jon had suggested it. Not too early in the year and not too late either. If they were going to be in the middle of some freakish heat wave, maybe they should postpone a few weeks…

  No. There was no way she was waiting another day, let alone another few weeks, to get married to Jon. March twentieth it was, even if she was going to be sweating through her skivvies.

  Darcy was almost to the park bench where the woman in her hat and long red dress sat reading her book, when she looked up again. When she saw Darcy, her eyes darted left and right and her body shifted, just enough to be noticeable. For a moment Darcy thought she was going to bolt. Then she settled back again and closed her book and smiled.

  “Hello,” she said, setting the book beside her on the bench. “It was such a lovely day I thought I might sit and read a bit. You have a lovely town here.”

  Darcy had already thought of an excuse to explain why she was coming over to talk. The woman had just brought it up all on her own. “I was actually coming over to ask you how you liked the book. You looked so engrossed in your reading. I hope I’m not disturbing you?”

  “Oh, no. Not at all.” Her eyes did that thing again, trying to look everywhere at once without being obvious about it. “I’m enjoying Paper Towns. Thank you for recommending it.”

  “Have you gotten to the part where they break into SeaWorld yet?” Darcy asked, sitting down casually on the other end of the park bench.

  The woman’s eyes snapped back. “Um. No. Not yet, I guess. No spoilers, please,” she added with a little laugh.

  Darcy’s suspicions were starting to be confirmed. “I’m Darcy Sweet, by the way.” She held out her hand, waiting for the woman to take it. “It’s always nice to meet new people.”

  The woman held Darcy’s hand instead of really shaking it, a polite gesture and nothing more. “Hello, Darcy. I’m Phoebe Stewart.”

  Now she had a name. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the book, Phoebe. I thought it was so clever how they had it being narrated by Beavis like that. Don’t you agree?”

  “Oh, certainly,” Phoebe replied. “If it wasn’t for his narration I don’t think the book would be half as good as it is.”

  “Especially when they spray painted scarlet letter A’s on their parent’s front lawns.”

  Phoebe’s eyes widened, like she didn’t know about that little plot detail, which would be understandable since Darcy had just made it up. But then she covered her surprise with a little giggle and said, “I loved that part. So funny.”

  Darcy nodded along, sharing a few more made up book scenes just to be sure. If Phoebe thought Butt-head’s friend Beavis was narrating the book and the two main characters were using the scarlet letter from a Nathaniel Hawthorne book, she obviously wasn’t reading Paper Towns. In fact, she might never have read a book in her life.

  Which begged the question, what was she really doing in town?

  “It was nice of you to stop and talk to me,” Phoebe said after another minute or two, “but I’m afraid I really must be going. I have an appointment to keep.”

  “I understand,” Darcy answered, quickly thinking of ways to get more information out of Phoebe. A-ha, she thought. “Are you staying in town?”

  “I am.” Phoebe collected her book and her heavy black purse as she stood up. “There’s this wonderful Bed and Breakfast over on Fairfax. Do you know it?”

  “Yes, I do. The Butterfields own it. I’ve heard good things about it.”

  “All true, I can assure you. Perhaps we’ll see each other again before I leave town.” She turned to leave.

  “Are you staying long?” Darcy called after her.

  Without stopping, Phoebe raised her voice to answer.

  “For as long as it takes.”

  Then she began whistling and walking in a way that accentuated the curve of her hips. Darcy saw more than one man turn their head to watch Phoebe Stewart walk away. She told herself she wasn’t jealous, which she wasn’t. Really.

  Phoebe crossed the street to the sidewalk on the opposite side. When she got near the bookstore the door flew open. Brianna Watson matched her stride to Phoebe’s like it was completely accidental, and Darcy could already see the questions coming rapid fire.

  Brianna was on the scent of another story. Darcy almost felt sorry for Phoebe. At least she would have, if she wasn’t so sure that Phoebe was hiding something. Maybe the bloodhound television reporter could get the truth to come out.

  Or maybe her fiancé had learned something new.

  The police department was only a short walk from the center of town. It was quicker by bicycle, and now that the snow had gone away Darcy rode hers everywhere. In a few minutes she was standing in the lobby of the station, waving through the service window at Sergeant Sean Fitzwallis.

  The old man was in a cheerful mood today, drumming his fingers on the countertop to some old tune. His thick white hair was neatly trimmed. His face looked thin today, and Darcy knew he was starting to show his age, but his smile was as bright as ever.

  “Well, hi there Darcy,” Sean said. “I hear you’re a consultant for the department now.”

  “Well. I don’t know how much help I can be,” she said, trying not to blush. “I think it’s just a fancy title that means I can be in the building without anyone complaining about it.”

  “Now, don’t be so modest. I figure Jon is just saying what the rest of us already knew. Yup. You help out a lot around here. In more ways than one.”

  He laid a finger to the side of his nose as he said that, almost as if he was trying to hint that he knew something. Darcy stared at her old friend. As far as she knew, Sean wasn’t aware of her being able to talk with ghosts. People in town might think she was a little strange, but only Grace and Jon and maybe one or two others knew what that was really about.

  He winked at her, then buzzed the door open for her to come inside.

  Darcy promised herself again that she would have a good long talk with Sergeant Fitzwallis sometime soon. There was a lot more to the man than met the eye.

  She walked into the officer’s work area, the squad room with the desks set up for the detectives and the two or three shared by the rest of the officers. Her sister Grace was at her desk, looking sharp in her white blouse and dark slacks. Her short dark hair used to be much longer, but the grasping hands of her little baby girl had convinced her to keep it in something like a pageboy cut. Darcy thought it suited her. They had pretty similar facial features, her and her sister, but she knew she would always keep her long hair. No short styles for her.

  Hmm. How should she wear her hair for the wedding? Just one more thing to worry about getting done so she could walk down the aisle with the man she loved.

  Not that it was going to be an aisle. There would be a pink roll of fabric laid out on the grass of the town center and flower arches for the bride and groom to walk through.

  She couldn’t wait.

  “You’re thinking about your wedding again, aren’t you?” Grace was leaning back in her chair, arms folded, a smug look on her face.

  Darcy came back to herself and realized her sister was right. She’d been lost in daydreams about her wedding again. It was becoming her favorite pastime.

  She sat down in the chair across from Grace at her desk. “I’m here to see Jon, but I’ve got a little time for my Matron of Honor.”

  “You’d better. I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”
r />   “Aaron thinks you are.”

  “Yeah, but he’s my husband. He’s biased.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less true, sis,” Darcy added with a wink.

  They shared a laugh, talking about the wedding details for a few more minutes, about flower arrangements and whether they should let the guests have rice to throw or maybe get little bubble blowers.

  “It’s too bad mom can’t come sooner,” Grace said after a while.

  “I’m just glad she’s coming. I don’t know. It wouldn’t have been the same without her, I don’t think.”

  “I bet you never thought you’d say that.”

  Repairing the relationship between them and their mom had taken a long time. Eileen Sweet was remarried now herself and in Darcy’s opinion, as odd as it sounded, that was one of the things that had brought them closer together. Just one of many.

  “Sounds like you’re all set for the wedding, sis.” Grace started shuffling the papers on her desk and Darcy knew she probably had a lot of work to do, with the bodies stolen from the cemetery and whatever other small town goings on the police were handling. “I’m happy for you. After you and Jeff divorced I figured you’d never take the plunge again.”

  “I just had to find the right man, I suppose.”

  Grace looked at her with a knowing smile. “You and Jon are good together. I’m guessing you’re good in every way?”

  A blush heated Darcy’s face. She could feel it happening. She and Jon certainly hadn’t waited for their wedding night to find out if they were, ahem, compatible, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t looking forward to the honeymoon.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” she said, getting up from Grace’s desk, “did I tell you? We’ve decided to go to Australia for our honeymoon.”

  “Really? The land of koala bears and men who talk like Crocodile Dundee?” She leaned back and twisted her lip up and did her best Australian accent. “G’day, mate, welcome to the outback!”