by K. J. Emrick
“I can’t believe this,” Darcy said into the silence. “She was killed? Someone killed her?”
The Officer, Mark Phillips, hesitated at the question. “Yes. I’m afraid so, although I can’t say more. I am sorry. Were you two close?”
“Not that close,” she had to admit.
He nodded, scratching out another note. “Can you tell me more about this man Marla wanted to dance with? Did you see them talking at all?”
“No. I left before anything like that happened. Um. He was white, and had brown hair that was very shiny. Like he put too much hair gel in. There was a blonde streak feathered into the right side of it. I’m sorry, I don’t remember anything other than that. No. A silk shirt. He was wearing a red silk shirt.”
“That’s actually very good. Most people don’t remember half that much detail. And what time did you leave the bar?”
“I’m not sure…oh, wait. I went to a store right after I left the bar. It was supposed to close up at six-thirty and I got there just after seven o’clock.”
“So you left the bar between six-thirty and seven?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“And you came right here after that?”
“I did. Maybe if I’d stayed at the bar with her, she’d be okay now.”
He shook his head, concern in his voice. “You can’t know that. Whatever happened to her, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Thank you,” Darcy said. “That makes me feel a little better.”
The officer nodded. “Good. You’ve given us a timeframe to look for when we get the security tapes from the bar. You’ve been very helpful, Miss Sweet. Is there a phone number I can reach you at? A cell phone?”
“No. I don’t have a cell phone.”
The officer raised an eyebrow at that but wrote it down dutifully in his notebook. Darcy had stopped carrying cell phones after she found out ghosts could call her from the other side.
“I’ll call you here at the hotel, then,” Officer Phillips said as he stood up. “In case I need anything else.”
He left her alone, and the silence in the room was deafening.
Darcy knew she had to contact someone. Marla’s family needed to know what had happened. Officer Phillips had asked her if there was anyone to call and Darcy had to tell him that she didn’t know. Did Marla even have family? She didn’t know.
So who could she possibly call?
She already knew the answer to her question. Reaching for the plastic white phone on the desktop, she dialed Jon’s phone number.
Chapter Four
Darcy went to the seminar that morning, mostly because she had nothing else to do and she needed to keep her mind off what had happened. She thought strongly about going back home to Misty Hollow but for some reason she felt that she needed to stay here. The police hadn’t told her to stick around. Jon had encouraged her to come back, even. But something in her heart told her she should stay.
The first few presenters at the seminar actually had very good information for small business owners looking to break into the sales market of e-readers and lending libraries. Darcy took detailed notes, working on autopilot more than anything else.
She had been involved in a number of murder investigations, her ex-husband Jeff’s among them. She was used to looking for and finding answers to dark questions like why anyone would kill another human being. She had helped Jon and her sister, Grace, solve murders and other mysteries. The one thing she had figured out for certain was that she would never get used to it.
When the lunchtime break came, Darcy filed out of the meeting room along with everyone else. The hotel where the seminar was being hosted had set up a buffet style meal of deli meats and cheese and salads. Darcy didn’t want to be around people, though. Instead she ventured outside onto the busy sidewalk and lost herself in the crowds.
There were several restaurants near the hotel. Chinese, Mexican, even a little café. Nothing really caught her fancy.
After talking with Jon on the phone for more than an hour this morning and telling him everything that had happened, Darcy had felt a little better. He promised to take care of everything on that end, contacting Marla’s friends and family for a start. Then he asked her to come home. She had told him she was fine, and that she was going to stay here to help the Ryansburg Police with their investigation. That wasn’t exactly a lie. She wanted to be here in case she could help. So she’d promised to call him every day and to come straight home when the seminar was done.
She’d left out the part about seeing Jeff’s ghost. Dead or not, it was never a wise thing in her experience to bring up an ex-husband to a current boyfriend.
Darcy checked her watch. Half an hour before the next presenter would start. Tips on knowing which e-books to stock was the subject. She really wanted to be there for that one. She was excited about the new direction she was taking the bookstore in and she really wanted it to work out. Her excitement was strongly tempered by Marla’s murder but she was looking forward to learning everything she could here.
Without really meaning to, she found herself standing in front of the same bookstore she had been at last night. The one she had bought the Spirit Tales book from. Through the window she saw Goddard Hershing putting a customer’s books into a paper sack. She slipped in when the customer left.
“Well, hello again,” Goddard said to her. He closed the cash register, making it ding loudly, and came around from behind the counter. “What brings you back to my humble little shop? Did you like the book?”
“I did,” Darcy told him. “I read it before bed last night. I was just out wandering around during a break from my conference and I didn’t know where to go. I saw your shop again, and…”
Darcy trailed off, not really sure where she was going with that thought. Goddard nodded as though he understood everything she hadn’t said. “I tell you what,” he said to her, shuffling into the small store’s browsing stacks and crooking a finger for her to follow. “Come with me.”
The stacks were all about chest high, tall enough for the old man to see everyone who might be in his shop at one time. Darcy thought that was smart. It certainly would cut back on instances of theft in a city environment. The different sections were marked with hand-lettered signs in plastic holders set on top of each area. Mystery, Romance, Best Seller, Non-Fiction. Goddard led her to a small section labelled as Paranormal and Spiritual.
He ran his hand across several of the books’ spines. There was a jumble of books here in a section maybe two feet across and three shelves high. All different colors, all different sizes. The man sighed with contentment. “I just love the feel of books, don’t you? There’s something calming about their weight and their physical presence.”
Darcy nodded, completely understanding. “I agree. Although, I just started selling electronic readers and e-books at my store. It seems to have boosted sales quite a bit.”
“Really?” Goddard sounded honestly interested. “I may have to try that here. Sales are good for me, I suppose, but they could always be better. I do have to make rent after all. Perhaps you could give me your e-mail address and we could exchange tips and such?”
“I think that would be great,” Darcy said. “Mine is darcy at sweetreadbookstore dot com. All lower case.”
Goddard produced a notebook from a pocket. He wrote Darcy’s down carefully, [email protected], and then wrote his own on the next page to give to her. “Sweet Read Bookstore. Ah. Nice name. Now. I know you like books on spirits and such.” He took a book off the shelf at random and leafed through it. “I do, too. Why don’t you look through what I have here. If you find something you like, I’ll make a gift of it to you. From one bookstore owner to another.”
“Thank you very much.” Darcy felt herself smile for the first time today. “That’s very generous.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Goddard said. “You take your time. I have some accounts to look over.”
Darcy read the title of each book on the
shelf. She’d actually seen a lot of them before and even had a few of them for sale in her own shop. Several of the ones she wasn’t familiar with looked very interesting.
When she had been a teenager, spending time in her Aunt Millie’s book store had been one of her favorite things in the world. Millie had joked that Darcy must have read every book on her shelves. Her aunt’s passion for reading, to learn or even to just broaden her imagination inside the pages of a book, was one of the many things Millie had passed down to Darcy.
As she gently traced her hand along the spines from book to book, a tingle shot through her fingers and up Darcy’s arm. She drew her hand back sharply, staring at it. The feeling had been like a little electric shock. Not painful, just alarming. Curious, frowning at the books, she put her hand back out to touch them.
Nothing happened.
She moved her fingers back to the left, back along the same books she had just touched. This time she was prepared for the sensation of it when pins and needles crawled up over her skin. She was touching one book in particular. A thick, hardbound book with a blue cover. “Embracing Your Talent” was the title on the spine.
By Millicent Carlisle.
Darcy sucked in a sharp breath. Millicent Carlisle was her Great Aunt Millie. The same Great Aunt Millie who had spent so much of Darcy’s younger years teaching her a love of books and showing her that their shared gift wasn’t a curse or something to be ashamed of. Through her aunt’s patient encouragement and love, she came to understand that what she could do really was a gift. A gift that she could use to help people, both the living and the dead.
Now she had found a whole book that her aunt had written on that very subject. Questions swirled in her mind. How? When? She slid the book from the shelf and opened it up, tracing her aunt’s name on the title page. As she did the tingling faded away from her fingers. Obviously, someone had wanted her to find this book.
And she knew who it was.
“Thank you, Millie,” she whispered. It was nice to know that even this far from home, her aunt was watching out for her.
***
She kept the book on the tabletop next to her during the afternoon presentations. Goddard had been fascinated by the fact that Darcy’s aunt had written it. He made careful note of the title so that he could order a few more. Local authors always sell, he explained with a smile. Her hand strayed to it now, feeling the texture of the blue cover, tracing her aunt’s name over and over with a fingertip. She couldn’t wait to read through it tonight.
Before the last discussion was even over she quietly gathered her papers and notes and Millie’s book and snuck out the back. It was a quick walk between this hotel and the Restaway where she was staying. She’d skipped lunch after talking away the time with Goddard. Her stomach reminded her of it now by growling loudly. She’d order some delivery pizza to her hotel room, she decided, and spend the night reading.
The desk clerk watched her oddly as she whisked through the lobby. It was someone other than the guy who had accompanied Officer Mark Phillips to her room this morning, but she was sure that word had spread quickly from person to person about what had happened to the women in room 306.
Balancing her stuff to get her key card out of the front pocket of her jeans Darcy made her way into her room with a sigh. This had been a very, very long day.
As she put her things down on her bed, she saw Marla’s bags and her things still where she had left them. Sadly, she realized she’d have to pack all of it up. It probably should have been something she gave to the police, but Officer Phillips hadn’t asked for it. This was a random murder in a city where random murders were probably common place. The police wouldn’t be looking for any clues in Marla’s makeup kit or changes of clothing.
Darcy frowned and stared again at Marla’s bags. Was it random? Was she sure that it hadn’t been anything more serious than that?
She shook her head and let the matter drop. There were enough real mysteries in her life without creating more. She was just seeing boogiemen where there weren’t any.
Then why was Jeff’s ghost trying to warn her? Why was he coming to her now?
Bang bang bang.
Darcy jumped, her mind flashing momentarily back to when Officer Phillips had told her that Marla was dead. The sound of someone knocking on a door had never seemed so ominous.
“Darcy?”
Her heart started again. Excitedly, she ran to the door and pulled it open and then threw herself in Jon’s arms.
His scent filled her. Being able to see him and touch him now helped make everything all right again. She would never know how he managed to be everything she needed at just the right moments.
“How did you get here?” she asked him.
He settled his arms around her and dropped his small overnight bag to the floor. “Uh, I drove. I was going to surprise you but then I realized I had no way to get into your room.”
“Mmm. You in my bed?” she teased, pulling him inside more. “That would have been a very nice surprise.”
Inside the room Jon gently lifted her face up so he could kiss her lips. He was taller than her, just enough so that she liked to stand up on her tiptoes when they kissed. She lost herself into his embrace, letting his presence comfort her and calm her nerves.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said to him when the kiss ended.
“I took a few days. The chief didn’t mind, considering how much work I’ve put in recently. Your sister said she’d keep the place running while I was gone.” He laughed. “She’s getting almost impossible to live with the closer she gets to her due date.”
Darcy smiled but kept her comments to herself. Grace was going to give birth to her first niece or nephew very soon. Darcy couldn’t wait. Her sister was happy to be pregnant, to be sure, but she was upset at the way it kept her from doing everything she used to do as a police detective. Desk duty really didn’t suit her at all.
“I want you to tell me everything that happened again,” he said to her suddenly, breaking her good mood. “Now that I’m here maybe you’ll remember something else.”
“Why? I don’t think I left anything out before.”
“Because,” he said, “I stopped at the Ryansburg Police Department before I came here. I just had an interesting conversation with the lead investigator on Marla’s case.”
Chapter Five
“You were at the police station here? What did they say?” Darcy asked. She couldn’t help herself. As much as she had told herself earlier to let the matter drop, now that Jon had talked to the police on the case, she wanted to know everything.
“You first,” Jon repeated. He led them over to the bed and sat down next to her on the edge. “Tell me everything.”
“All right,” she said. “But can we order some pizza first? I’m starving.”
The delivery of a large pizza, half mushrooms and half anchovies, came twenty minutes later. By then Darcy had gone through her story twice. Going to the bar with Marla, having a few sips of a drink while Marla had three herself, seeing the two guys at the end of the bar, and then leaving when Marla wanted to dance with them.
He eyed her, holding his slice of pizza over a napkin, the cuffs of his sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
Darcy lowered her eyes. “You’re using your police mindtricks on me.”
He smiled, but nodded. “They aren’t tricks. You can talk to dead people and I know how to read live people. We each have our talents. So, what is it you haven’t told me yet?”
Still she hesitated, but then she realized he wouldn’t let it go until she told him. He was right. He was very good at his job as a detective because he understood people, just like he understood her. “All right. Um. I’ve been having visions.”
Those words didn’t even faze him anymore. It was such a part of her life to get messages from the other side that he was completely used to it by now. “Okay. Visions about Marla?”
“Well, not exactly. Sort of. I don’t know.” She bit into her pizza, stringing gooey cheese that she had to break off with her fingers. She chewed to give herself time to think. “It was Jeff. I’ve been seeing Jeff’s ghost.”
“Jeff,” he said slowly. “Your ex-husband Jeff? That Jeff?”
She could hear the wariness in his voice. There were still a lot of unresolved issues there, considering that Jon had come to town just as Jeff was murdered, and at first Darcy had even suspected Jon of being the killer. Jon didn’t talk about Jeff much. It was hard to compete with someone who was dead.
“Yes, my ex-husband Jeff.” Darcy set her pizza aside. “He keeps showing up at different times, and then last night I had a dream about him and—”
“Wait, you had a dream about him?”
“Not that kind of dream, Jon. He was in a dream, and he was telling me that he’s sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Jon asked.
“I’m not sure. I got woken up at that point by the officer coming to say Marla was, well, you know.”
Darcy blinked at what she had just said. She hadn’t looked at it that way before. Jeff saying he was sorry, then the news of Marla’s death coming. There couldn’t be any connection there, she told herself. It was just a coincidence. It had to be. Didn’t it?
Jon finished the rest of his slice in silence. Then he brushed his hands off with the napkin and drank from one of the four cans of soda that had been delivered with their food. “Okay. Well. Jeff’s ghost aside, let me tell you about what I found out from the Ryansburg Police.”
The bathroom door swung shut, softly but firmly. Darcy set her lips in a thin line. Apparently Jeff didn’t like it when Jon said to put his ghost aside for the moment.
