by K. J. Emrick
She scoffed and threw her hands in the air. “Whatever. Maybe he did talk to Millie’s ghost. It wouldn’t be the first big secret she kept from me.”
“Or that Sean had kept from me,” Jon reflected.
A tap on the other side of the closed service window drew their attention. One of the other officers, Dan Minkel, waved to them and raised his voice to be heard from inside.
“Everything okay, Chief?”
“Yes,” Jon told him. “Sergeant Fitzwallis had to go home. Take the desk for him.”
They didn’t say anything else until they were back outside, standing next to Jon’s car. “Well,” he said. “At least we know why the journal is so important. Millie was killed. The guy who did it doesn’t want us to find out who he is.”
“Yeah. That’s great except the journal doesn’t tell me anything about the guy and…and…”
She fell against Jon’s side, letting him hold her. “And my aunt was murdered.”
Up the street, she saw the lights coming on inside the library.
Midnight was fast approaching. The deadline was nearly upon them.
***
They spent the next hour back at the bookstore, reading through the beehive journal again. And again.
And again.
“Jon, there’s nothing here!” Darcy got up from the table in the reading area and stretched the kinks out of her back. She rubbed at her tired eyes. The night had slipped away from them. Eleven-thirty, according to her My Little Pony watch. Almost time. “If Aunt Millie told us anything about who killed her in that journal, well, I can’t figure it out.”
“Maybe it’s in one of the ruined parts,” Jon suggested.
“Well, then that’s just perfect. I guess that’s what happens when you leave a book in a damp, dirty basement for ten years!”
He closed the journal, and got up from the table to come over to where she was. “Darcy…”
“Don’t touch me,” she told him, turning her back on him.
“Uh, okay.” She could hear the confusion in his voice. “Why not?”
“Because I want to punch something and if you’re the closest thing then I might just punch you!”
He cleared his throat, then she felt him move away from her. Picking up the journal from the table he grabbed up his coat. “Come on. Let’s get over to the library. It’s our only chance of catching this guy now.”
She didn’t let him take a step. She was right there, grabbing hold of him, latching onto him for dear life, burying her face in his chest. “I’m sorry. Oh, Jon, I’m sorry. I’m just all turned around right now, with Smudge taken right out of our house and all of this stuff I’m learning about Millie, and no time at all to process it before the midnight deadline this guy gave us…I just can’t think straight. I’m sorry, Jon. I’m sorry…”
He didn’t say anything. He just held her. Even though they were running up against the clock, he held her tightly, and let her collect the pieces of herself that had threatened to fall apart.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “We need to go.”
“We have time.”
“No, we don’t. The deadline…”
“We have a few minutes.”
He gave her that little bit more time and there in his arms she was able to take her first deep breath in hours. She was ready to do this. It had to work.
It just had to.
Together, journal in hand, they left the bookstore and went up the sidewalk to the library. There were no patrol cars in sight but Darcy recognized a few plain sedans parked along the curb as undercover units.
“We’re watching all sides of the building,” Jon whispered to her. “As far as anyone else is concerned this is just you and me walking up the street, all alone. If our guy is here, then my officers will see him.”
He patted the portable radio he had taken from the glove box of his car, now clipped to his belt at his left side. His handcuffs were in their case next to it. His chief’s special .38 was in its holster on his right side. He was a man prepared for anything.
Darcy had no doubt that Jon had all the angles covered. The trees that grew all around the town would give his officers good cover to watch from. Not to mention the shadows of the night. You could lose someone out here and never find them again.
Which meant whoever was doing this to her could be hiding out here, too.
“You think he’s watching right now?” Darcy asked, trying to look everywhere around her at once without being too obvious about it.
“Yes,” was his straightforward answer. “Which is exactly how we’ll catch him.”
“Then we get to string him up by his toes, right?”
“Can’t do that. It’s illegal. I’m just going to let you punch him until you feel better.”
“That may take a while,” Darcy said drily.
Jon shrugged. “I’ve got nothing else planned for the next few days.”
Oh, how she loved this man.
The wide steps of the library led up to the glass doors in front of the red brick building. It had always reminded Darcy of a school, with its flat roof and rectangle shape. She had spent untold hours here, lost in the books that she couldn’t find at her own store, or attending lectures and social hours. She had always liked coming here.
Tonight it felt like she was walking to an execution.
The front doors opened onto the landing of a staircase that split in two directions, the right side going down to the children’s section and the left side leading up to the main floor. A sturdy wooden railing followed both. Linda was waiting for them at the top.
“Oh, Darcy. I don’t know what to say.”
Linda Becht was a tall, graceful woman, a true redhead except that she didn’t possess the cliché temper. She was usually quick to smile. She wasn’t smiling now. Darcy and Linda had been friends for a very long time. They’d bonded over a love of books, which was easy to do since Darcy owned a bookstore and Linda was the senior librarian in town. She’d risen to the job after the lying, cheating woman who had been her boss got herself murdered in another state.
Surprising, really, how many lives in town had been touched by the mysteries of Misty Hollow.
“Thank you for helping us,” Darcy told her, accepting a quick hug before Linda led them into the upper floor of the library.
Floor to ceiling stacks of books marched off into the long room. Mysteries. Young adult novels. Fantasy. Religion.
History.
Behind the service desk was an area set up with half a dozen computers for public use. Off to the right side was a big meeting room behind a wall of windows and a closed door. Darcy wasn’t interested in any of those.
The history section was where the book on Deseret would be. That was the only part of the library she cared about right now.
Jon checked his watch. “It’s five minutes ‘til midnight. Linda, you’re sure there’s no one else in the building?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Linda spread a hand around her in a wide circle. “Your sister went through the whole place with me, Darcy. I looked into every cubbyhole, every locker, under every table. All of it. There’s no one here but us three.”
“Then how does he plan on getting this journal?” Jon wondered out loud.
Darcy held the book up to look at it. She could barely make out the beehive design on the front. Something about the design snagged a memory. A beehive. Now where had she seen that before? Millie didn’t keep bees. She’d never had a particular love of honey. It had to be something else.
What was it?
“Darcy,” Jon said, reminding her of the time.
Right. She didn’t have time for any more mysteries. She had to save Smudge. Giving up this journal, this last thing her aunt ever wrote, was her only hope of making that happen.
“You know where the book is?” she asked Linda.
They went over to the history section, a small part of the last row, closest to the back wall, where the books were kept that very few
people ever used. Every library needed a reference section. Even if they hardly ever left the shelf.
Linda pointed to a book four rows up. It was squat and gray, with a white tab taped to the bottom of the spine printed with its reference number. The Forgotten Land of Deseret was written in scripted gold letters on the spine.
Clutching the journal to her chest one last time, Darcy slid her aunt’s thin little book into place next to the book on Deseret. They’d followed the directions on the ransom note.
What was supposed to happen now?
“We should go outside,” Jon said from where he stood. “He won’t show if we’re standing here staring at the book.”
Darcy had to agree, but still… “Did you set up a surveillance camera or something?”
“We didn’t have time to put one in. Not one that our guy wouldn’t immediately spot, anyway. We’re stretching things as it is with the people I have outside.”
“Right. Well.” Darcy took a deep breath, giving the bookshelf one last look. “Then let’s go.”
Linda followed, locking the doors behind them. “I already have the back door locked. I know you can’t tell me everything, Jon, but I really don’t see how anyone can expect to get in here to get a book.”
“We don’t know, Linda.” Jon stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked around the dark town. “We were told to leave the book here. It’s here. We don’t know how he plans on getting in but when he does, we’ll catch him.”
They walked down the steps to the sidewalk, and then started in the direction of the bookstore. Darcy looked over her shoulder once at the library. The plan, if they could call it that, was for them to wait in her shop until the officers keeping watch at the library found the bad guy.
“I just hope it’s in time to help Smudge,” she said, holding her arms around herself and walking close to Jon’s side. “If we don’t catch this guy…if he doesn’t let Smudge go…”
Jon put his arm around her shoulders. “This will work, Darcy. You have to trust me.” She was surprised when she felt him chuckle. “I can’t believe that cat of yours hasn’t escaped from wherever he is already. Nothing can hold him down for long. He always seems to be in the middle of everything, doesn’t he?”
“That’s my Smudge.” She smiled in spite of herself, remembering all the times Smudge had led her into trouble, or gotten out of the house without her knowing about it, and how he always seemed to know as much as the people around him did. If he had been running up the sidewalk to jump into her arms right now, she wouldn’t have been a bit…
…surprised.
A white tomcat with large black patches like smudged charcoal was racing up the sidewalk, ears pricked back, tail straight out, eyes shining brightly in that way that a cat’s always did in the moonlight.
Smudge.
It was Smudge.
Running up the sidewalk to jump into her arms.
Darcy was wrong. She thought she wouldn’t be surprised.
“Smudge!” He was real. He was here in her arms and he was real. Not a vision, not a dream. Real. “How did you get out? How did you get here?”
She squeezed him and held him and felt him licking her face. Jon was asking questions, Linda was asking questions, and Darcy couldn’t have cared less what either of them were saying.
She had Smudge back.
Jon reached in and felt all over Smudge. Back, chest, tail, all around his head. “He seems fine. No injuries or cuts.”
Darcy held Smudge tight. He purred and clung to her. She was never going to let him go. Ever again.
But then a thought pounded its way into her head.
“Hey, Jon…”
“I’ll bet he’s hungry, but he seems fine.”
“Jon.”
“Wait, look at his claws. Do you see that?”
“Jon, if we have Smudge,” Darcy said, louder, “then we don’t need to give up the journal, right?”
His eyes snapped up to meet hers. They didn’t need to give the journal to the kidnapper. Smudge was safe.
“Linda, I need to get back into the library,” Jon said in a rush. Not waiting for her, he started back up the walk to the library steps. As he went he took out the portable radio. “All units report in. Any sign of movement?”
Darcy ran after them, keeping Smudge wrapped tightly in her arms. She heard all the replies, five in all. All of them were negative. No sign of movement.
Linda fumbled the key at first, but then got the door open and they all rushed inside. “Wait,” Jon said. “Linda, turn on the lights.”
Fluorescent bulbs came on overhead with a faint humming, and the main floor of the library was once again revealed around them, empty and silent. Jon’s hand had been on his gun, but he relaxed now and the three of them went directly to the history section.
Darcy reached for the journal.
Only, it was gone.
Chapter Six
“There’s no way.”
Jon was the first one to say what they were all thinking. The building had been locked. There were police officers outside, watching. Darcy held Smudge tighter, afraid that he would disappear any moment, too. She had only just gotten him back. She wasn’t going to lose him again.
“There’s no way!” Jon repeated, walking behind the shelf, feeling his arm into the thin space between the tall stack of books and the wall. “There’s nothing back here. It’s just a wall. There’s no way in here, there’s no way out. Nothing.”
He brought his radio up again. “All units move in on the library. Be observant, suspect is on scene. Grace, I want you and Wilson in here with me. We’re going to search this place again, top to bottom. Copy?”
Wilson’s voice came back immediately. “Copy, Chief.”
Jon’s eyes found Darcy’s as they waited for Grace to respond.
She didn’t.
“Grace, respond.”
Still nothing.
“Does anyone have eyes on Detective Grace Wentworth?”
The silence was becoming terrifying. In her arms, Smudge mewled for her attention. Darcy stared at the radio in Jon’s hand.
Where was her sister?
Banging the back of his fist against his forehead a few times Jon clipped the radio back on his belt. “Darcy, stay here with Linda.”
“Jon, if something happened—”
“If something’s happened then you can’t do anything about it anyway. I want you safe. I’ll find out where Grace is.”
“Promise?” she asked.
He scratched Smudge between the ears. “I promised we’d get this big mug back, didn’t I? Stay here, okay?”
He gave her a quick kiss on her cheek and he was gone.
Smudge wriggled in her arms and then dropped to the floor. He walked a short distance away to lay down on his side, a cat smile on his face. He was walking strangely, though. Almost like there was something wrong with his feet. Maybe he was injured, after all.
Her cat looked up at her with his eyes narrowed, an expression that spoke to her as clearly as if he’d said the words. She needed a closer look…
“Look at this,” Linda said from right beside her.
Darcy let Smudge be for a moment. Linda was leaning over, pointing at where Millie’s beehive journal had been. “What is it? What did you find?”
“There’s more than just your aunt’s journal gone,” Linda explained, tapping a finger back and forth between the books to either side of the empty space. “See? That other book is gone, too. That book on Deseret.”
The guy who had kidnapped Smudge, and set this whole thing up just to get his hands on Millie’s journal, had taken the other book as well. The Forgotten Land of Deseret.
Why?
Behind her she heard footsteps and turned to find Detective Wilson Barton. He was in jean shorts and a t-shirt, an uncharacteristic look for him, and Darcy realized he must have been in one of the cars outside watching the library. He’d been wearing plain clothes that wouldn’t mark him as a police
officer. “Darcy, Linda,” he greeted them. “Is that the spot? Where the journal was?”
Smudge meowed his own greeting at Wilson, flicking his tail.
“Yes,” Darcy answered Wilson’s question, pointing to the blank spot on the shelf that had held the two books. “He took the journal and another book, too. Have they found Grace?”
His expression became very carefully set. “Yes, Darcy. She’s all right, but maybe you should go out and see her. Linda, can you stay in here with me and show me around? We’re going to search the building again. I’ve already got two guys downstairs looking through everything.”
“Sure,” Linda said to him, “anything to help.”
Darcy’s heart beat hard in her chest and she didn’t know how much more of this she could take. What did he mean, she had better go see her sister? If she was okay, then why did he seem so worried?
And why wasn’t Jon back?
She looked down at Smudge, unsure of what to do. She did not want to let this cat out of her sight, but she needed to go see what was going on with Grace. She couldn’t be in two places at once.
Smudge blinked at her and flicked his tail. She had always been able to understand him, at least a little, and she saw what he was trying to tell her now.
I’ll be fine. Grace is your sister. Go.
Smudge was such a smart cat.
“Don’t worry,” Wilson said to her. “I’ll keep an eye on Smudge.”
She nodded, bending down to stroke Smudge’s fur one more time, letting him nuzzle his face into her hand. “I’m glad you’re back, too. Next time claw the guy’s eyes out, okay?”
Smudge sneezed, and his front paws twitched.
Outside in the night there were vehicles parked sideways in the street, their headlights shining across the front lawn of the library. Sitting on the grass in the light from one of those cars, Grace held a folded white cloth to the side of her head. Jon knelt with her, his cell phone to his ear, talking with someone.
The harsh light clearly showed dark splotches on the cloth in Grace’s hand.
