by K. J. Emrick
“I’ll bet Grace is sorry she’s missing this one.”
“Yup,” Jon said. “That’s what happens when you decide to go on vacation in the middle of June. You miss all the good stuff.”
“Hmm, I suppose.” Darcy stopped with him outside of another room down the hall. “To be fair, though, this is Misty Hollow. Pretty much any time of the year is when you’re going to miss the good stuff.”
“Can’t argue that.”
This room had fared worse than the mayor’s office. The public records storage room wasn’t any bigger than the other rooms, but it was lined wall to wall with filing cabinets. Nearly every drawer in every cabinet had been pulled out and the files thrown everywhere. When the intruder had gotten here and found the door locked, they’d simply kicked it in, breaking the wooden casing and leaving a nice footprint behind in the process.
It was a man’s boot. Darcy had looked it over with interest while Wilson had taken digital photos earlier for evidence. She looked it over again now. She’d never seen a pattern like this before. Horizontal lines on the heel and up at the toes, and then lightning bolts across the rest of the sole. It should be fairly easy to tell the brand name of the boot from that impression, as well as the approximate height of the man who’d been wearing them. Wilson and Jon hadn’t found any useful fingerprints, but they were still confident that with this boot impression they were one step closer to finding who the intruder was.
Darcy had rolled her eyes when Jon made that joke. One step closer. Because it was a bootprint. She certainly hadn’t married him for his humor. That was for sure.
The door was still open, and inside they found Wilson Barton down on his knees, collecting pieces of paper from the floor and matching them to folders laid out in an orderly fashion all around him.
“How’s it going?” Jon asked.
“Slow,” he said, triumphantly putting one piece of paper away from a stack of thirty or so. He scrubbed a hand over his short blonde hair, leaning back on his heels as he searched for the next piece of this odd puzzle. “At this rate I should be just about done reconstructing every file in this place by, say, Christmas. Of next year.”
“Why don’t you leave that for now?” Jon suggested. “We’ll have the clerks come in tomorrow and finish up for you. Then they can tell us if anything was taken.”
“Sounds good to me,” Wilson quickly agreed, standing up and brushing off the knees of his slacks. Despite the heat outside he was dressed in a three-piece suit complete with a black and white striped tie. As always, he came ready to work. Gun at his hip, handcuffs behind his belt, and his sharp mind already working for answers. “Here’s the thing though, Chief. I don’t need to finish this up to know there was nothing taken from this room.”
Jon looked impressed, and doubtful. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“Because the intruder obviously came here first. This is the room they took the most time in, and Darcy found them up in the mayor’s office. No other rooms were broken into.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets with a shrug. “So, if they’d found what they wanted in this room, then they would have just left. Instead they started searching through Helen’s office, too. That means they didn’t find what they were after in here.”
“Hmm. Good point,” Jon agreed. “You know, if you aren’t careful you’ll have my job someday.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good where I am.”
He smiled at them from behind his goatee. Wilson had proven himself to be an important part of the Misty Hollow police force, rising up from the ranks of patrol officer to his current rank of detective. He’d done a lot of growing up as an individual over the years, too. He could easily take over for Jon someday. That is, if her sister Grace didn’t run for police chief herself. Either of those two would do the department proud.
It was a real question, she acknowledged with a deep breath, because Jon had been talking about retirement since before Christmas. She had been avoiding the subject for just as long.
The thought of Jon being retired worried her a little, if she was being honest with herself. She knew he couldn’t be a police officer until the day he died, but they were both too young to stop being who they were.
Weren’t they?
“Let’s get out of here,” Jon said. Darcy hadn’t even realized that the conversation had continued without her while she’d been lost in her thoughts. She smiled up at him to hide her inattention and took one last look around the room.
Huh. That was interesting.
“Hey, Wilson,” she asked, scrunching her eyebrows, “what’s that?”
She pointed to something at the bottom of one of the filing cabinets. A little white ball. Paper, she realized. A crumpled ball of paper.
“It’s just a receipt,” Wilson told her. “I noticed it earlier. It probably came from one of these folders that I’ve been patiently piecing together. Our intruder made quite the mess.”
He was right, of course, but something was bothering her about this particular piece of paper and then she realized what it was. “It’s all crumpled up. Was anything else in here smushed up like that?”
“Well, no,” Wilson admitted. “It just means our guy was getting frustrated when he couldn’t find what he wanted. People get mad and take it out on inanimate objects all the time. Why do you think I’ve gone through two laptops since last year?”
“Sure, but…” She looked around at everything else again. Everything else had just been tossed around. Nothing had been torn, or creased, or crumpled up like that receipt was. Plus, this looked like a store receipt. One of those little slips of printed paper you got when you bought gas or groceries or a pizza. It didn’t belong here in a room full of public records.
She could see the moment on Jon’s face when he realized the same thing. “Better bag that one up for evidence, Wilson. You know better than to ignore Darcy’s instincts.”
“True enough, Chief. All right. I’ll grab an evidence bag and take care of it.”
“What about the security cameras?” Darcy asked them both. “Helen mentioned the security cameras all through the building. They must have seen something?”
Wilson nodded. “We’re hoping so. We already have the digital download from today’s recording. We’ll look through it back at the office and see what we can find.”
Darcy was glad they’d already thought of that. “It will prove Helen’s alibi, too. At least part of it.”
“Right. Well. I’ll get the little paper ball, then clean up our stuff. You want me to lock up the building before I leave?”
“Yes. Have the patrols keep an eye on this place overnight, too.”
“You got it.”
When Darcy and Jon got outside, night had fallen and the town was quiet again. The loudspeakers at the top of the Town Hall had been turned off, and the tourists had gone to whatever hotel or motel they were staying at, and she was willing to bet that most of the local residents had gone to bed. It would have been a great night for a walk with the kids. Or a night in with just the two of them. Instead, they were hip deep in another mystery.
The next thought that came to her, was that maybe the idea of Jon retiring wouldn’t be such a bad one after all. It would mean more time for themselves. Less time putting their lives in danger, too. Not that anyone had tried to kill them today, but hey. There was still time.
She turned to Jon, working up her courage to ask about him maybe retiring, someday, maybe, when she noticed he was deep in thought himself. “What is it?” she asked.
They were almost back to his car now. He stopped with her on the sidewalk, and the moonlight reflected the blue in his eyes, turning them to ice. “I think I know who killed Steve Nelson.”
That surprised her. “Already? After talking to Helen and wandering around the Town Hall with Wilson, you know who the killer was?”
He nodded. “It’s all connected. All of it. The answer’s right in front of our faces. You’re just not going to like it.”
; “What do you mean?”
With a deep breath, he put his arms around her waist and held her close. “Well, let me ask you this. Do you really, honestly, think it’s just a coincidence that Steve was found dead, here in Misty Hollow, right after Gloria showed up on our doorstep?”
“Gloria? You think it’s Gloria?” Darcy couldn’t believe what he was saying. She opened her mouth to argue with him.
Then closed it slowly again.
She was not a big believer in coincidence.
Unfortunately, everything fit just like Jon had said. Gloria arrived in town today. They were late getting to dinner, with no real explanation for it. Darcy had seen the hatred Gloria had not just for her mother, but for Steve, too. She certainly didn’t try to hide her feelings about him. I don’t care that he’s dead. He was a waste of space. He was a horrible human being, and I’m glad he’s gone. Those had been her exact words.
Plus, there had been that whole thing with her grandfather’s will, and the money Gloria said she had no interest in…
But now, the public records room at the Town Hall had been broken into. That was exactly where Helen had said Merlon Nelson’s last will and testament was being kept.
“I take it,” Jon said gently, “that you don’t disagree with me?”
She hesitated, even still. “I don’t know, Jon. I don’t want to think that Steve’s sister is a murderer, too, you know? We were all shocked when Steve… did what he did.”
“He killed your neighbor. Then he killed your ex-husband.”
There was a gentle bluntness in the way he said it. “I know, Jon. I remember. I’m just saying, I don’t want to believe that sort of evil runs in their family. You know? I mean, look at your own family. You’re the black sheep. Um. In a good way. You’re not in prison like your father and sister, for instance.”
“Uh-huh. You got the good Tinker.”
He hugged her, and kissed the top of her hair, and she let his body melt into hers for a moment. It felt good to be held by him, but it didn’t change what was happening in their town, or the fact that he could be right. Sometimes, evil did run in the family.
“I saw Steve’s ghost,” she told him, her face buried in his shoulder. “After you left, Gloria and Cameron and I went to Gloria’s mother’s house. Steve’s mother. Gloria wanted to tell her about Steve being found dead, and I wanted to be there for moral support, and there was Steve’s ghost.”
“What did he do?” Jon asked.
“Not much. He seemed to be hiding from me.”
“Ha. He’s scared of you. You sent him to prison.”
She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Anyway, he didn’t say anything, but he did go and lay down on the hospital bed where his grandfather had died.”
“Excuse me?” Jon pulled back so he could see her face. “I thought the grandfather died in the hospital. So, he died at home then?”
“Yeah… apparently Gloria’s mother and aunt had been caring for him at home. He was real elderly, they said, and he passed away at home. I’m sure there’s an obituary for his death in the papers if we look for it. Anyway, Steve’s ghost laid down on that bed, and folded his hands over his chest like he was the guest of honor at a funeral. That was right when Gloria’s mother had been talking about how they were going to read the will.”
“Gloria’s mother and her aunt… that would be the grandfather’s two daughters, right?’
“Um. Yes. That’s the way families work, Jon. Anyway, they’re really nice old ladies. I think you’d like them.”
“Just trying to keep the family straight in my head. The grandfather had two daughters, one of the daughters had Gloria and Steve. Got it. Hey. You know what a last will and testament is?”
“Well, sure, I know what that is. It’s the last wishes of someone, usually about where their property and money goes. In this case, Jozelle said there were a number of safety deposit boxes listed in the will. That would mean anyone who had the will, had that list of box numbers, and they could potentially walk into the bank and claim them as their own with that information.”
“Yup. All true. But, you know what else a last will and testament is?” He turned them both back toward the Town Hall and pointed. “It’s a public record.”
Darcy got it now. There was one more connection linking Gloria to the murder of Steve. Just when Gloria found out that her grandfather had left behind a will, someone had broken into the public records room, and Helen’s office, looking for something.
Looking, no doubt, for a last will and testament.
That bootprint on the door had been a man’s boot, most likely, but that didn’t rule Gloria out as a suspect. She had Cameron with her. He was a thin man, but even a skinny man could kick a door down if they hit it enough times.
But… why was the door to the public records room kicked in, and not the door to Helen’s office? How did the intruder get into there?
Questions within answers within more questions. Well, there was definitely one way to get answers. They would just have to ask Gloria and Cameron.
“I know where to find them,” she told Jon. “I know where they’re staying. Let me call Izzy from your phone and we can go. We are seriously going to owe her a nice bottle of wine after this.”
“Are you kidding?” Jon chuckled. “By now, we owe her a whole case.”
Chapter 4
The road from Misty Hollow up to Oak Hollow was actually State Route 18, even though most people just called it Hollow Road. For years, back when Darcy had been growing up, there had been nothing at all out here but frogs who crossed the road in swarms when it rained and a curve that was so sharp there had been fourteen near-fatal accidents in one year alone. The curve had been smoothed out by the State DOT. There were still frogs here every summer during rainy nights. The trees along both sides of Hollow Road had been cut back in several places to make way for houses or roadside stores, and little businesses like the Sleepaway Motel.
The twelve-unit motel was two stories high, with six rooms on each floor. It had opened just last year but already it seemed to be full up with parked cars every time Darcy drove up this way. Tonight was no exception.
Jon was examining each vehicle as they drove up to the office at the end of the row. “Do you remember what they were driving? I was kind of distracted. I remember it was red.”
“That one right there,” she told him. “The four door with the roof rack.”
“Yup. Got it… and hey, look. There’s Gloria.”
He was right. In the light from the motel’s exterior lighting they saw Gloria, and Cameron too, carrying luggage from their first-floor room to the car. Jon drove right up behind their vehicle, blocking them into the parking space.
They both looked surprised as they stood and watched Darcy and Jon get out and come walking towards them.
“Darcy?” Gloria asked. “What’s going on?”
Cameron, for his part, simply dropped his suitcase to the ground, and then held his arms down at his sides. It was like he’d been caught, and he knew it. Darcy frowned to herself. Could it be this easy?
“Hi, guys,” Jon said, his voice falsely cheerful. “Sorry we missed our dinner. You aren’t leaving already, are you?”
“Er, yes,” Gloria said. “Like I told Darcy, we need to keep going. We were only supposed to stay here one day.”
“Day’s not over,” Jon pointed out, his voice positively down-homesy.
“Yes, well, I’ve had it with this town.” Gloria’s voice turned angry just like that. “My brother’s dead and my mother’s still my mother and there’s just too many reminders here of how much my own life has sucked because of other people’s actions. So. Yes, we’re leaving.”
“Not yet,” Jon told her.
“Excuse me?” Gloria marched right up to her car, and opened the back door, and threw her suitcase in with such force that anything fragile inside was surely in pieces now. “You’ve got no right to keep us here, Mister Police Chief.”
Jon’s smile grew bigger. “Heh. Hey, Darcy, remember when Ellen used to call me that?”
“Yes, I do. Good times, right?”
“Usually. Not always.”
“Hey,” Gloria snapped at them. “If you two are done, Cameron and I need to leave.”
“Not yet,” Jon repeated.
“You can’t keep us here!”
Jon nodded, but he didn’t make any move to get out of their way. Instead, he leaned back against the side of her car, and folded his arms. “Tell you what,” he said. “We can resolve this right now, and if I like your answers, then you’re on your way.”
“Oh really?” Gloria crossed her arms, imitating Jon. “And how do we do that?”
Jon turned away from her and locked his gaze with Cameron’s. “Show me the bottom of those boots you’ve got on.”
His face paled in the harsh glow of the outside lights.
Gloria was yelling again. “You don’t have to show him anything! He needs a warrant! He doesn’t have a warrant! He can’t do anything at all!”
Jon leaned to one side, looking down at the ground. “I could just look at his footprints in the dirt. I don’t need a warrant for that.”
“That doesn’t prove anything!” Gloria tried again.
“Honey, let it go,” Cameron said. He didn’t yell. He kept his voice level and even, and still it was enough to stop Gloria mid-sentence. “He knows. We can’t just run away.”
Gloria’s face flushed red and she looked like she wanted to break something in half. Or more accurately, Darcy thought to herself, she looked like she wanted to kill someone.
Jon pushed away from the car and walked up to Cameron, reaching behind his belt for the handcuffs he always kept there. “Cameron… huh. I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember your last name.”
“Kroeger,” he said miserably.
“That’s right. Well, Cameron Kroeger, you’re under arrest for breaking and entering, for destruction of government property, and—this is the big one—for the murder of Steve Nelson.”
