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2 Mists of the Past

Page 4

by K. J. Emrick


  She started to walk briskly, in a hurry now to see Jon. She got to the police station in record time and found him engrossed in a report at his desk. She stopped just inside the doorway to look at him without him knowing and that familiar shiver that had nothing to do with her sixth sense rippled through her as she watched him. She felt her breath catch in her throat as he lifted his head and caught her with his eyes.

  She moved quickly over to him, coming around his desk to lower her head and kiss him. It was a quick kiss, as she was aware of the few other people in the room who were more than a little interested in them. “Hello,” she said, staring into his eyes, seeing the same emotions written in them that she was feeling herself.

  “Hello,” he whispered back. The feel of his warm breath on her skin caused her to shiver once again.

  She pulled away and returned to the front of the desk to sit in the chair there. Crossing her legs and flipping her hair away from her face she felt so much better now that they being totally honest with each other. It felt good to be open with him again.

  “I thought about the letter last night,” she said to him quietly. “It has a stamp on the envelope and I think our first step should be to go to the post office with the letter and see what they can find out about it.”

  Jon looked at her seriously. “I thought about that too, but I’m not sure I want you investigating this with me. After all, the letter threatened me. People are dead because of this. You might be in danger also.”

  Darcy considered that for a moment and then said, “Are you going to give up?”

  “No, of course I’m not. I need to find out who did this.”

  “Well, then I can’t either. We’re in this together.” Darcy waited for him to say something as he looked at her. At last, he sighed and nodded his head. He leaned down and opened the top drawer of his desk to bring the letter and envelope out which were both now in an evidence bag each.

  He got up and came around to where she was sitting and held out his hand to her. “Come on then. Let’s go to the post office.” She quickly took hold of his hand and jumped up to follow him out of the police station.

  The post office was right across the square. It was nearly empty when they got there. A young man with stringy brown hair that he wore back in a ponytail was at the counter mailing a letter, wearing ripped blue jeans and a t-shirt with the name of some band Darcy had never heard of. She’d seen him around once or twice, and recognized him. It was Robbie Sutter, Lily’s brother.

  Darcy smiled and said hi to him. He turned with a half-hearted smile of his own, his eyes a piercing gray color. Robbie looked away when the postal worker, Blake Underwood, said, “There you go Robbie all taken care of.” With a distracted wave of his hand, Robbie left.

  When Robbie left Jon and Darcy moved up to the window counter to speak to Blake. Jon looked around the room with its post office boxes and mailing envelopes and such just to be sure they were still alone, and then took his letter out for Blake to see. “What can you tell us about this letter, Blake?”

  Blake, a middle-aged man with a balding head of black hair, took the letter’s envelope that was displayed in the evidence bag and turned it from one side to the other inspecting it closely. “It was hand delivered,” he said looking from one to the other of them. Their blank looks must have been enough to encourage him to continue. “Even though there’s a stamp there are no other markings. No cancellations, no routing city stamp.”

  “Which means what?” Jon asked him.

  “Which means that it didn’t come through the mail system.”

  Jon took the envelope back from Blake and he narrowed his eyes at them. “What’s this all about?” They could tell that he was curious but they weren’t going to tell him any more about it.

  “It’s a police matter, Blake,” Jon said, hoping that would end it.

  But Blake wouldn’t be satisfied that easily. “Police matter? This is addressed to you, Jon.”

  “Blake, I hope I can count on your discretion in this.” Jon waited for Blake to shrug his shoulders and walk away, then he and Darcy made their way out of the post office.

  Walking slowly through town holding hands Darcy and Jon gave the impression to anyone looking that they were simply out for a leisurely stroll. They were actually talking about what they had learned, but Darcy sure didn’t mind that they were using the walk as cover. His hand felt nice in hers.

  “I can’t help thinking that anyone could be the murderer,” she said to Jon. “It’s just like I felt a month ago, knowing one of the townsfolk had killed Anna and then Jeff. Now that we know the letter was hand delivered to you, it makes sense that you were right. The person probably lives right here in town.”

  Jon agreed but otherwise was quiet. Darcy hated seeing him like this. He was so stressed out. They needed to get more information and she realized that the best way to do that was to consult her sixth sense. She needed to do a communication with the other side.

  She pulled on Jon’s hand for him to stop. He looked at her with a puzzled expression as she said, “I have to go. Let’s meet up at your house tonight, okay?” She gave him a swift kiss on the cheek and was off before he could say anything.

  Chapter Six

  Darcy raced to the bookstore to get what she needed for the communication. She gathered together some candles and incense, which were essential to a successful communication, and packed them into one of the store’s plastic bags. Smudge jumped up onto the counter and she let out a little scream.

  “Do you have to keep doing that to me?” She put a hand to her chest to try and calm her racing heart. Smudge just sat and looked at her like she was nuts. She laughed at him and ruffled his fur. “When did you leave the house, anyway? What would I do without you old boy?”

  He gave her a little cat smile.

  “Okay, tell me this, smart guy. Do I have everything I’m going to need?” She asked him. He meowed at her loudly. His tail was twitching madly as if to say “do you know what you’re doing?”

  “I have to do the communication Smudge, even though I don’t want to. Try not to worry so much. I love Jon. If this helps him, then I have to try it.” Darcy grabbed the bag off the counter and locked the door behind her. Smudge twined between her legs as she went.

  She went back to her house for a few more items, and to wait until she knew Jon was off work. Then she went over to Jon’s apartment with her bag of stuff. “Uh, what have you got there?” he asked as he let her in.

  “Oh, just some bits and pieces I’ll need.” She looked at him for a moment trying to gauge how he would handle her saying what she had planned. “I want to do a communication with the other side to try to channel the spirit of Kyle. Hopefully he will give me more information.”

  He was shaking his head at her before she even had the words out of her mouth. “Jon, listen to me. I haven’t chosen to do this lightly. Communications are a serious thing. When you open a door to the other side, it acts just like any door. Anything can come in, or go out. We have to do this, though. We need to know.” She put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “You understand don’t you?”

  He looked at her intently for a moment and then nodded his head.

  “Good. I need something from you. Do you have anything that belonged to Kyle? I didn’t know him and it will be hard for me to call him without it.”

  Jon rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know, let me think.” He looked off into the distance for a few moments and then nodded his head. “Sure I do. Hold on a minute.” He raced into his room and was back in seconds with a book in his hand. “I borrowed this book from Kyle years ago and forgot to give it back to him. I kind of held onto it, you know? After his death.” He handed it to her and she put it inside her bag. It was a copy of The Bourne Supremacy.

  Now for the next hard part, Darcy thought. “We should do this at my house. Millie and Smudge may be able to help.” Jon looked a little wary when she said that but nodded his head in agreement anyway.

/>   ***

  Jon drove them. When they got to Darcy’s house she wasted no time in getting things ready. She opened her bag and handed Jon nine white candles. “Would you set those up in a circle in the living room please? You’ll see the marks from where I’ve put them before.” While he did that she prepared the six incense sticks by putting them in her ceramic holder and lighting them. A heady Sandalwood fragrance soon filled the room.

  She was pleased to see that Jon had lit the candles after arranging them in a circle like she had instructed him to. He hadn’t spoken a word since they’d entered the house. She knew he was nervous about all this paranormal stuff. Darcy sat down in the middle of the circle and crossed her legs. “You should go and sit on the couch Jon. This could take a while.”

  She closed her eyes and focused on the book in her hands. The cover felt a little rough as she rubbed her fingers over it. Nearby her, within the circle of candles, mist coalesced in ethereal tendrils. She let it happen, let the bridge between this world and the next solidify until the mist became a spirit, became the form of a figure. A man, his face covered in shadow. He held his left hand up closed into a fist. He shook it with an eerie rattling sound.

  “Are you Kyle?” Darcy asked. The shadowy form nodded its head. She’d invited the right spirit. “What happened to you?” The figure shook his hand once more, the rattling noise repeating, and then on feet not quite touching the floor he speedily glided towards Darcy. She threw up her hands to protect herself, knowing Kyle wasn’t really there but also knowing that the dead could hurt the living unintentionally. When the ghost touched her, everything went black.

  Chapter Seven

  In her vision, Jon leaned over her, reaching for her as she faded away…

  Darcy wasn’t sure where she was. She was lying on something soft, pillows piled behind her and the familiar feel of a thick comforter so she assumed that she was in bed. She didn’t remember going to bed. Wait…what did she remember? Her mind was fuzzy and she was having difficulty focussing.

  Her head was pounding and she wondered if she had a hangover. She didn’t remember drinking the night before. She opened her eyes and then quickly slammed them shut again. The light was too bright and the room felt like it was spinning. Oh, her head.

  “Thank God!” Jon’s voice seemed to come from far away when he spoke. Jon. She remembered. Jon and she had been in her house, and they had been…doing something. She hoped it had been fun, at least, to justify the way she felt now. She felt a little better knowing he was with her, though. He pulled her in for a hug and she groaned. It was too much, too fast. The room was spinning madly. He let her lay back down on the mattress when she gently pushed him away.

  She scrubbed a hand over her face and tried opening her eyes again. The light was still way too bright but better than before. “What happened?” she croaked out.

  “Don’t you remember?” Jon sounded concerned.

  “No. I’m having a little trouble with that right now. Did we…you know?”

  He smiled down at her. “Not this time, sweetheart. I brought you up to bed after you passed out.”

  “Passed out?” She scrubbed a hand over her face. She felt awful. What had happened to her? She looked around the room and saw the light on her bedside table still on, saw how dark it was outside. It must still be the same night. The same night when she and Jon had…

  The communication. That’s right. She had done a communication to talk to Jon’s dead friend. And it had worked.

  She started to feel really uneasy about something but just couldn’t put her finger on it just yet. She looked back at Jon who was still staring at her with concern.

  “I was talking to Kyle.”

  Jon sighed. “Yeah. You seemed to be talking to someone. Then you screamed and passed out. I rushed over to you but you wouldn’t wake up. I picked you up and brought you up to bed.” She glanced at him as he shoved his fingers through his hair and made it all stand on end. “I was really scared Darcy. I thought you were dying.”

  Darcy nodded. “Yeah, sometimes the communications can become pretty intense. I’m sorry. I should have explained it better. How long was I out for?”

  “It was almost an hour.” He was still looking at her with concern, like he expected her to keel over again at any moment.

  “Thanks, Jon. You sure you want to get caught up with a girl like me?” She smiled as she said it, and she’d asked him the same question before, but she still worried he’d take his chance to run.

  He took her hand in his as she sat up straight. “I’ve always been a for better or worse kind of guy. If you ever become too much for me, I’ll let you know.” He brought her hand up to his mouth and put a sweet kiss on it. “Don’t worry. You’re not getting rid of me this easily.”

  A warm sensation spread through her from the touch of his hand and his lips. Darcy soaked it in for a few moments, then got serious again and told him all about calling up Kyle. “Does the rattling sound mean anything to you?”

  “No it doesn’t.” She could tell that he still didn’t believe it all. He frowned and then looked at her. “Do you need anything? You look a little pale.”

  “I’m actually really thirsty, can you get me some water please?”

  “Sure thing.” He stood up but before he left the room he bent down and kissed her. “I’m just glad you’re okay. It’s all right if it didn’t work.” He gave her a long look before he left the room.

  Smudge jumped up on the bed after he had left. They exchanged a silent glance. The cat had seen the whole thing. He knew it had worked just fine. So what had Kyle been trying to tell her?

  ***

  Jon stayed with her through the rest of the night, curled up to her back, his clothes on, holding her because she was still rattled. His comforting heat lulled her to sleep before she knew it.

  When she jerked awake the next morning, he was gone. But Grace was there. She had snuck into Darcy’s bedroom quietly, and when she saw that Darcy was awake she held up her hand with a key on a ring dangling from her finger. “I hope you don’t mind, I used the key you gave me. I didn’t want to disturb you if you were asleep.”

  “That’s fine.” Darcy stretched and yawned. The room seemed a little emptier for Jon not being there. He must have left early to go to work.

  “How are you?” Grace asked, frowning at her. “You don’t look great.”

  “Thanks,” Darcy grimaced at her sister and sat up. She felt incredibly hungry. Her headache from last night was mostly gone, with just a lingering touch at the back of her mind.

  Grace grabbed the chair in the corner of the room and dragged it closer to the bed. She plopped down into it and ran her fingers through her dark hair. “I spoke to someone at Jon’s old department, over in Pequot Lakes.”

  “What did you do that for? There was no need.” Darcy stretched and wished she’d changed out of her clothes before going to bed. Oh well. She smiled at her sister. “I know the whole story anyway. He told me.”

  Grace’s eyebrows shot up. “So he told you that he attacked someone?”

  A cold shock spread through her at her sister’s words. Darcy furrowed her brow and shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  Grace gave her a long look. “Jon’s file also had an attack charge on it but there were no details listed about it. I’m still trying to find out more information.” She gave Darcy another look. “I do trust Jon, but be careful for me, will you sis?”

  Grace stood up and returned the chair to the corner. She patted Darcy’s leg through the blanket. “You always did follow your heart. Be careful it doesn’t lead you down the wrong path, okay?”

  Darcy said, “Yes, I agree. Thanks for coming Grace. Thanks for…looking into this.”

  After Grace had left, Darcy spent a long time thinking about what her sister had told her. Did this mean Jon was being dishonest with her again?

  Maybe it was just a mistake. Was there anything to it at all? He was a police officer, for crying out lou
d, and sometimes cops were accused of using excessive force. Weren’t they? She blew out a long breath and told herself she had to decide. Either she trusted Jon, or she didn’t.

  Chapter Eight

  Darcy was feeling better the next day but had decided to stay home just in case. She didn’t want to overdo it. The communication had taken more out of her than she realized. It had been so intense, this time. She never liked to perform those. It always seemed to sap away some of her inner strength. Some of her soul, to be more specific.

  When Darcy had been just a girl, not even into her teens, she had delved heavily into the world of the occult. Spurred by visions she couldn’t understand, visions that always came true in some way, she took out books from the local library and read everything they had to offer on the subject of the occult.

  That’s where she had first learned how to do a communication with the spirit world. She had been so proud of herself, up in her room, surrounded by a circle of candles, exhaling and inhaling and working up a connection to the other side that would bring forth a ghost for her to talk to.

  After that night, she had taken all of the books back to the library and boxed up all of the candles and tried to deny the whole thing had ever happened.

  Her sixth sense had other ideas for her.

  She shuddered at the memory. This communication had felt different somehow, though, and had taken even more out of her than usual. She had called Sue early in the morning to say she was too sick to go into work and to ask the girl if she wouldn’t mind taking care of things for her for another day. Sue had told her not to worry and that she had it all under control. Darcy didn’t doubt it for a minute. She knew that she could always depend upon Sue.

  She spent the morning taking it easy, just sitting on her couch in her living room, reading a book and drinking tea. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done this. As relaxing as it was, she knew she wouldn’t be able to put up with this inactivity for very long. Not only that, but thoughts of the problem of Jon kept bubbling to the surface, disturbing her calm. She was hoping her subconscious would come up with an idea of what to do about him, the letter, the threat, the vision, all while she read through chapter after chapter of a historical romance novel.

 

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