Twice Dipped Murder: A Rita Reincarnated Cozy

by DeWitt, Daphne

  He sighed. “Look at you. One glance was all I needed to see that you’re stressed out.” He took his hands, placed them on my shoulders, and pressed down, causing me to relax. “And that’s where you’re holding it all.” He blinked hard. “Just like my Rita used to.”

  I nodded, pushing down the hurt that always came when my father unknowingly spoke about me like I wasn’t standing right in front of him.

  “I’ll tell you what I used to tell her,” he answered, chuckling just a little under his breath. “Not that it did me much good. My daughter was the most stubborn person I had ever met, present company excluded.” He took one of his hand, still on my shoulder, and gave me a loving pat. “She had a good heart though, and so do you. You’ve just got to remember, if you insist on leaping before you look, you just need to make sure-”

  “You’re in a mattress store,” I finished, smiling.

  “Heard it before?” he asked, his eyebrows darting upward in surprise.

  “My dad used to tell me that,” I said softly, biting my lip as to stop it from quivering with emotion.

  “Funny,” Dad said, shaking his head. “I thought I made it up. In any event, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to assume the worst?”

  “Six will get you a half dozen in this instance,” I answered, motioning for him to follow me toward a less crowded corner.

  I saw familiar concern color his eyes as he did so.

  “What’s up, kid?” he asked, leaning against the wall and crossing his chest with his arms again.

  “Lionel Sulkin, the dog handler who killed himself by jumping from the roof of the inn the other night, is wasn’t a suicide,” I explained, waiting for my father’s shocked reaction.

  Instead, he nodded firmly and said, “I figured as much.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised by how much he wasn’t. “How’d you figure that?”

  “A couple of reasons,” my father admitted. “One being that I didn’t hear anything about a note, and the second was to do with the manner in which he did it.” My father glared at me. “One look at that man’s background said he enjoyed the spotlight. He loved being the center of attention.”

  “I’m confused,” I answered, quirking my mouth to the side. “If he liked the spotlight, I can’t imagine a death that would bring him more of it than leaping from a tall building in the center of Main Street.”

  “True,” my father answered. “But you’re not taking all of it into consideration. A man who loves the spotlight loves to control the way he’s seen in it. I seriously doubt that if a man like that was going to kill himself, he’d do it in a manner so likely to leave him in the kind of state he must have been in when his body landed that night.”

  “He’d want a glamourous death,” I said, feeling stupid for not considering that before. “So why haven’t you done anything about it?” I asked.

  “Because I’m not the sheriff,” he answered quickly. “Second Springs has a sheriff and a good one at that. You should know that better than anyone, given how closely you’ve worked with him in the past.”

  “The past seems to be just that,” I answered. “And it doesn’t look like it’s going to repeat itself anytime soon.” I glance down at my dog.

  And it’s all because of your stupid great great granddaughter.

  “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” my father answered.

  “Not you too,” I said instinctively, feeling ridiculously betrayed. “Please tell me you’re not going to try and convince me I’m better off keeping my nose out of this.”

  He shook his head. “Like I said, I had a stubborn daughter. I know it wouldn’t do a bit of good. Maybe it’s not about you though. What if it’s about the sheriff himself? What if he needs to prove to himself that he’s good enough at his job that he doesn’t need the help of a quirky pie maker?”

  “I’m not quirky,” I said, pouting.

  “Obviously, I meant it in the best possible way,” he answered, grinning.

  What he said made a lot of sense, and I had never thought about it that way. I had started seeing Darrin and me as a package deal. He was the law in this town, and I was the bubbly gift with purchase you got when mysteries got twisty.

  What if he didn’t see things that way though? He did pride himself on being the best detective in Washington D.C.. What if my constant nosing around put that pride and his sense of self-worth in jeopardy?

  Well, who cares if it did?!

  The truth was, I had work to do. I had unfinished business to finish, and a spirit guide/reincarnated mayor dog combo who wasn’t going to let up until I did.

  Add that to the fact that the widow herself asked for my help, and that seemed like more than enough reason to gently push past what Darrin might have wanted in this.

  “And what if that wasn’t enough?” I asked, swallowing hard and looking up at my father. “What if people are counting on you? What if you need to do the right thing? Then what would you do?”

  Dad looked at me for a long time. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but his eyes seemed to drift far away.

  Finally, he sighed. “I’d turn around Rita.”

  “What?” I asked, confused. I felt a tap on my shoulder though and followed my father’s suggestion.

  Darrin was standing behind me, dressed in his uniform, with a gun on his hip and a look on his face like he had just bit into a lemon and thought it was an apple.

  Uh- oh.

  * * *

  “We need to talk, Rita,” he said, his voice a near growl. “We need to talk right this instant.”

  13

  I followed Darrin outside of the annex building and, by the time we made it out onto Main Street, he seemed to have calmed down enough for me to stop worrying about the possibility of handcuffs chafing my wrists.

  Still, his body was tense enough to let me know he wasn’t exactly happy with me.

  Well, guess it’s time to jump into the deep end.

  “I suppose this isn’t a social call,” I said, looking up at Darrin as we made our way to the park on the other side of the street.

  Darrin was quiet as we walked further out into the park. It was empty tonight, which wasn’t out of the ordinary for a school night without church activities. In fact, as Darrin and I walked off the sidewalk, blatantly disregarding the ‘Please Keep off the Grass’ signs, I tried my hand at conversing again.

  “I don’t suppose this is about you needing help picking out a costume for the Halloween party,” I said, grinning over at him.

  He didn’t smile back. Still, I could see an amused sparkle in his eyes. He couldn’t hide it from me.

  “I don’t wear Halloween costumes,” he said flatly, looking over at me.

  “That’s a shame,” I mused. “Because I, for one, think you’d make a pretty amazing cowboy.”

  “I asked you to steer clear of the investigation,” he said as we settled in front of the very Jack-O-Lantern I had looked at earlier.

  My heart skipped a beat as I took in what he said.

  “I-I,” I stammered. “What makes you think I’m not?”

  “Because I know you,” he answered wistfully.

  Well, if you knew me, why waste time telling me in the first place?

  “And because you joined a dog show at the last minute.” He shook his head. “Mayor McConnell isn’t a show dog.”

  “That’s what I keep telling everybody!” I answered.

  “Dr. Appleton told Myra to come and speak with you after she was done with us,” Darrin said, sighing loudly. “I don’t have to tell you how problematic that is.”

  “For both of us,” I answered, standing my ground and turning to Darrin. “You know how much easier it would be if I was just inside that room? I deserve to be there.”

  “You don’t though,” he said, turning to me. “You’re good. You’re actually better than good. You might be the best I’ve ever seen, but you don’t have a badge.”

  “Now you’re s
tarting to sound like my father,” I muttered.

  “Then there’s,,” he said, lifting his hands into the air, “the whole ‘I’m Rita Clarke’ thing. What am I supposed to do with that, Rita?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly, feeling a little miffed about the fact that he still hadn’t made himself okay with the craziness of it. “I was kind of hoping you were going to believe it.”

  “And if I did?” Darrin responded. “What good would it do? It’s not just the kind of thing you can go around telling people, Rita. Obviously, you know that. Otherwise, you’d have probably told the people in town who would be more affected by it.”

  He was talking about my father. He was talking about Peggy and Aiden. He was talking about the people I’d loved in my past life, the ones who had been most distraught about my passing. He was right too. I couldn’t just go and tell them. Pushing aside the fact that Charlie had warned me against it, there was also the very real and inescapable fact that I- Rita Clarke- was a scaredy cat.

  The idea that the people I cared about wouldn’t believe me if I told them the truth, the idea that they’d freak out and push me away (costing me the new relationships I had built with them) was what really kept my mouth shut.

  I had told Darrin because he caught me in a lie but, more than that, I think I told him because it mattered less.

  I had no prior connection to Darrin. He wasn’t important to the person I used to be. He was someone brand new, someone I could test this out on without the fear of losing something very important to me. That connection had changed since then, since our relationship began to deepen and grow.

  Still though, I was glad I told him. I was glad someone knew. Even if he didn’t necessarily believe me all the time.

  “What is this about, Darrin?” I asked, shaking my head. “I know you didn’t want me to get involved with the investigation and you know that I did it anyway. Neither of us should be surprised.”

  “Oh I’m not surprised,” he answered. “At least not by that.”

  A prick of realization rose in my mind. Something had him thrown. That was why he came to me. “What does that mean? What did Myra say?”

  “Isn’t wasn’t what Myra said,” he answered. “Although she did give me a story about receiving a death threat from a blocked number.”

  * * *

  “You don’t believe her?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  ‘I didn’t. At least, not at first,” he said carefully.

  ‘What changed your mind?” I asked, seeing a spark of hope in Sheriff Dash.

  “That’s not important,” he answered.

  “Don’t do that,” I said. “Don’t shut me out just because you’ve got a brand new girl to help you out.”

  Something like hurt flashed through Darrin’s eyes. “I don’t have a brand new girl. If anything, you’re the one with a replacement for me at the ready.”

  “What are you talking about now?” I asked, my eyes widening. Something like shock ran through me and then, along with that, a little bit of hurt. I hadn’t replaced Darrin. I didn’t even know he thought of us as having the kind of relationship that needed replacing.

  “Am I supposed to pretend I don’t know you’ve been knocking around with that ridiculous kid from Harbor Heights?”

  “Sammie?” I shook my head. “Sammie is not a kid. He’s the same age as us.”

  “I notice that you didn’t contest the ‘ridiculous’ part,” he muttered.

  “He’s a sweet man,” I answered, wondering why on Earth Darrin would feel the need to put him down like that. If it was jealousy, it was unwarranted. “And, if you’re not going to let me help you, then what am I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know,” he said loudly, obviously getting a little agitated. “How about what I ask you to for once?”

  “We both know that’s not going to happen,” I said, my mouth tightening. “I made a promise to Wanda I would get to the bottom of things.”

  “You’re not the police,” he said, moving toward me.

  “She trusts me!” I shouted in return. I bridged the gap between us also. Before I knew it, we were face to face, so close in fact, I could feel his breath on my cheek. So much nervous and irritated energy ran through me and then suddenly, I realized his eyes had softened and the breath caught in his throat. We were so close to each other now, closer than we had ever been. His lips moved and, for whatever reason, my heart sped up.

  “Well so do I,” Darrin said, suddenly more quiet. “I trust you too, Rita. Why else do you think I brought you here?”

  I reared back. “I thought you brought me here to yell at me.”

  He finally grinned. “Well, I did, but that wasn’t the only reason. I also brought you here because I need your help. I think Angie’s lying to me.”

  14

  A cold autumn breeze cut through me as I took in what Darrin had just said. My mind started spinning, the gears in my mind spinning to try and make sense of what I’d just heard.

  “Angie McConnell?” I asked, sure I wasn’t comprehending things correctly. Darrin had such faith in his former partner. I was ashamed to admit that I was threatened by it, and here he was telling me that faith might be misplaced.

  “Of course Angie McConnell,” he answered. “I’m certainly not talking about the Angie who drives the school bus.”

  “I should hope not. That woman is a saint,” I answered, almost absentmindedly. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “That’s the thing,” Darrin said, turning back to the Jack-O-Lantern. “I’m not exactly sure.” His tone was clipped, and I could tell whatever he was about to say wasn’t going to come out easily. The idea that someone who had been so close to him could lie to his face definitely hurt.

  “Just tell me what you know,” I said gently, thinking about placing a comforting hand on his shoulder like my father had just done for me, but ultimately deciding against it.

  “I called our old precinct this morning and asked for Angie’s transfer orders. Up to this point, she’s kind of been unofficially helping me out,” Darrin said.

  “I know how that feels,” I answered, a slight smile appearing on my lips.

  “I spoke to our old Sergeant, but he assured me he didn’t approve any transfer order for Angie. In fact, it wouldn’t be within his ability to do so.” He turned back to me, his hands balling into fists at his side. “Because he fired her three months ago.”

  “What?” I asked, quirking my mouth to the side. “Are you sure? She didn’t seem like she had been fired when she was walking around the office like she owned the place.”

  I remembered the way she spoke to me, the way she spoke about my town; like she was better than it and all the people who resided in it.

  “This is my fault,” Darrin said decidedly. “I should have done things by the book. When she came asking for a job, I should have looked into things right then, but I trusted her.”

  “Of course you did,” I answered, seeing the guilt on his face and hoping I could take it away. “She was your partner. She was your friend. Of course, you trusted her. Anyone would.”

  “I’m not anyone,” he answered, shaking his head. “I pride myself on reading people. I can take one look at people and read them.” His eyes flickered up to me. “With a few exceptions obviously. So why didn’t I see this?”

  “Because you wanted to see the best in your friend. It makes you a good person, something not to be ashamed of.”

  “Be that as it may,” Darrin started, seeming to completely disregard the compliment I’d just given him. “I still messed up.”

  “So make it right,” I suggested. “She lied about what brought her here. She obviously lied about what happened to her back in Washington D.C. Where I come from, that’s grounds for dismissal if I ever heard it”

  His eyes focused in on me and I saw a spark of amusement in them. “If you’re Rita Clarke, doesn’t that make this place ‘where you come from’?”

  “Sure does,” I
said quickly. “And around these parts, you couldn’t get away with something like that. A surge of hometown pride ran through me. Sure, Second Springs had been going through a rather uncommon string of unfortunate events as of late but, all in all, the place I grew up was amazing. People were honest, neighbors looked out for each other and- when there wasn’t a mysterious assailant forcing dog handlers off the tops of buildings- people didn’t even have to lock their doors.

  Second Springs was the sort of place you dreamt about, and I was happy to say that someone who had just lied to the sheriff wouldn’t be tolerated here.

  “I’m not going to fire her,” he said simply, shaking his head.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, my eyes widening as I took in what he had to say. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense if you ask me. This woman lied to you, Darrin. She obviously has something to hide.”

  “Of course she has something to hide, Rita,” he answered, running a hand through his hair; an obvious show of stress. “But I can’t figure out what that is, and it’s what’s irking me.” He shook his head. “I didn’t bring you here to complain about my ex-partner. Something else happened when we were questioning Myra Plimpton.”

  My heart sped up, and I found myself leaning forward to take in what he was about to say.

  “Like I said, Angie and I were partners in D.C. I’ve seen her question more than a few suspects. I know what her rhythm is.” He cleared his throat. “What I saw in there wasn’t her normal rhythm.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest and realizing it was the way my father had just done. I guess, even in a new body, you couldn’t escape becoming your parents.

  “There was no edge to her, none of the roving insights I expected from her.” He seemed uneasy as he went on. “It was almost like- like-”

  “Like she already knew what she was going to say?” I asked, realizing that was what he was trying to tell me. “You think Angie has something to do with this?”

  “No,” he said quickly. Then, running his hand through his hair again, he admitted, “I don’t know. I don’t think she’s capable of killing someone, Rita. And I certainly won’t accuse her of that without rock solid evidence. But there have been things since she’s returned.”