A Darcy Sweet Mystery Box Set Five

by K. J. Emrick

  When the shopkeepers bell above the front door rang, Darcy was partway through hanging a string of tinsel along the middle shelf of the autobiography section. Most of these books sat right here for a year or more before any of them got bought. She had tried reducing the selection gradually, but now she was just considering dumping… er, donating most of them to the library or whoever would take them.

  The bell announced someone coming in the store. The person shaking wet snow from their shoulders onto the rubber mats was a tall man with a wide span of shoulders to clean off. Darcy had heard through the gossip mill that he’d once been a football player in the minors—or whatever the term was for the NFL—and he certainly had the physique for it. Apparently, his career had never taken off on the field but even Darcy remembered him from his television commercials. Everyone traded on fame a little differently, she supposed.

  For the tall, dark, and handsome Tobias Ford that meant investing money in a growing economy like Misty Hollow by buying the well-established bakery business in the heart of town.

  He took off the fedora from his bald head, wiping one large hand over his shaved scalp while he slapped the hat against the side of his long, brown leather coat. His skin was shades darker, nearly the color of that black silk shirt with the square white buttons poking up over the top of his coat lapels. Everything about Tobias spoke of money, and Darcy had never been able to understand why he didn’t just open his own line of shops in a big city somewhere like New York or Boston.

  “Hello, Darcy,” he said with a warm smile. Then, like he always did when he came into her shop, he took in a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring wide. “Ah. I do love the smell of books.”

  “So do I,” she agreed, tucking the end of the tinsel under a heavy tome on the life and times of Harry S. Truman while she got a piece of scotch tape ready. “I didn’t expect to see you in here today. Did you close the bakery up early?”

  “No, no,” he said. “I’ve got people for that. Heh. That bakery’s a real money maker. Hard to believe Helen sold it to me.”

  “Well, it was time for Helen to move on. She’s really busy as mayor.” Darcy tossed the scotch tape roll back into the half-empty box of decorations. The snowflakes still had to be hung from the ceiling but the foam snowmen were up on the sales counter and the sleigh and reindeer cellophane cling were on one side of the window with the Christmas star on the other. “So what can I help you find today?”

  “Actually, I saw your lights on, and I was hoping I could pick your brain about a little business proposition.”

  Okay, that was definitely not what she was expecting him to say. “Sure, I guess. You mean your business, or mine?”

  “Both, actually,” he chuckled, rubbing at an earlobe. “See, I was thinking about the merchandise that you sell in your shop. The sweaters and the mugs and what-nots that all have that cute little saying on them.”

  Darcy’s smile turned a little colder when he called her store slogan “cute,” but she didn’t say anything.

  “Every time I come in here,” he went on, “I see all of this stuff for sale. It does a pretty good turn with the tourists, right?”

  “It does,” Darcy admitted. “Especially the ceramic coffee cups and the travel mugs—”

  “Right, right.” He waved off the rest of what she was saying. Apparently, that had been a rhetorical question. “So I got to thinking, why not let me help expand your business, and then you can do the same for me. This town runs on tourism dollars, and let’s face it. Nobody’s more famous in our little town than you are. All those news reports about you and your police chief hubby? Absolute gold.”

  Darcy held her smile in place while she bent to pick up the box of stuff to bring back to the office. Tobias Ford had only been a part of this town since he’d bought Helen’s bakery. Darcy knew him from around town, and from his weekly visits here to the bookstore where he always bought at least one book. While she appreciated the business, she was starting to see it as part of a bigger ploy. He wanted something. Those news stories he referred to as “absolute gold” all involved bad memories for her. Memories of people getting hurt, or moments like when her brother-in-law had been kidnapped, or when Jon had nearly died. He was looking to cash in on her notoriety. It was just a matter of business for him.

  On the other hand, Darcy knew that she was the closest thing their town had to a celebrity. At least, to the outside world. Here she was just a neighbor and a friend and someone to wave at on morning walks. The rest of the world only knew her as that woman who had been in the news so much. Reporters like Brianna Watson had made sure of that. The publicity was good for the town. It brought in money to the local businesses, her bookstore included. And, she supposed, the same would be true for Helen’s Bean There Bakery and Café.

  Only, it wasn’t Helen’s anymore. It belonged to the big-time sports figure and well established businessman, Tobias Ford. If he had a business proposal, it would most likely be a money maker. She might as well hear him out. What could it hurt?

  “All right,” she said, dropping the box of decorations in front of the door to the office. “So, you want to sell some of my merchandise in your store. We could do that. You’d take a cut of the profits for yourself, I assume?”

  “Well, of course,” he said, spreading his hands wide with his hat still dripping wet in one of them. “Standard business model. That way, you get increased sales, I get tourists coming in not just for sweet treats but for the chance to buy shirts and, uh, mugs and stuff with funny sayings on them.”

  He lifted up a white ceramic mug with Darcy’s logo printed on it in thick blue letters from a display case with a dozen identical cups, half a dozen travel thermoses, and racks of keychains. Then he set it back in place again, rubbing his fingertips together like it had been dusty. Darcy’s store did not have dust. The man was pushing all of her buttons.

  “And that’s not even the best part,” he added.

  Darcy braced herself. “Oh? There’s a best part?”

  “Sure is! While I’m selling your merch in my store, I’ll be selling mine right alongside it, and you can sell mine in here!”

  Okay, Darcy thought. That made sense. “So you have shirts printed up with the bakery logo on them? That sort of thing?”

  His smile showed perfect white teeth that had to represent thousands of dollars in dental surgery. “Got something better. See, the shirts have a little circle with the bakery name right here—” He cupped his free hand over his left shoulder, above his heart. “—and then in big letters across the front they say things like, I Got Baked in Misty Hollow.”

  Darcy was pretty sure her eyes were about to bug out of her head.

  “And Misty Hollow’s Got The Goods.”

  He could not be serious.

  “And, Muffin Tops Are The Best Part.”

  She cleared her throat. That was just about enough of this. “Tobias. There is no way I would ever sell shirts like that in my store.”

  His brows scrunched down and made heavy furrows across his forehead. He was honestly confused. “Why not? That’s what this town runs on, is tourism and whacky nonsense, right?”

  “I think,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, “that you don’t understand this town at all.”

  “Oh really? Didn’t your Town Hall burn down a few Halloweens ago?”

  “Yes, it did, and it very nearly killed me and Jon and Helen when it—”

  “And didn’t someone,” he said with a wry smile, “kidnap your cat?”

  She had no idea how he would have heard about that one, unless it was through the town’s overactive rumor mill. “Smudge got away by himself, but yes.”

  His laugh was deep and rumbly. “The cat got away by himself. Oh, man. See? That stuff is priceless! That’s the sort of thing the people want. You know, you’re the second place I’ve come to offering this business deal, and both of you have turned me down flat. You think I don’t understand this town, being an outsider
and such, but maybe it’s all of you who don’t understand Misty Hollow so well.”

  For a moment, she was completely speechless. She had never wanted to slap a man across his face more than she wanted to slap Tobias Ford right now, and that was saying a lot.

  The cup that Tobias had just put back suddenly scooched out of place and fell off the display, landing with a thunk on the floor. They watched as it rolled awkwardly over its handle to rest against Tobias’s boot.

  “Oops,” he said, bending to pick it up. “Must not’ve put it back on the shelf proper.”

  Darcy nodded, but she knew better. That cup didn’t fall because of gravity or because it had been set too close to the edge. If Darcy needed any proof that Tobias didn’t understand the goings on in Misty Hollow half as well as he thought he did, there it was.

  Great Aunt Millie was voicing her opinion of his idea. She didn’t like the idea much.

  Neither did Darcy.

  “I’m afraid I have to pass on your offer,” Darcy told him. “I really don’t want this shop that my aunt started and that I’ve built up with years of hard work to be associated with that kind of… vulgar sales pitch. Misty Hollow is a wonderful, amazing place, and I do not want to see it brought down to the level of some sophomoric joke.”

  Tobias regarded her for a long moment, storm clouds brewing behind his deep brown eyes. “I see. Well. That’s your prerogative, I suppose. Let me tell you this, though. I know business. I’ve got successful endeavors in three states now. Things are going well for me. They’re going to go well for me here, too. You can get on board with my vision, or you might find your business beginning to suffer.”

  Darcy thought maybe she heard something very subtle in the way he said that. “Mister Ford, are you threatening me?”

  His smile was back immediately, all teeth, like a shark. Putting his hat up on his head, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat. “No, Ma’am. Wouldn’t dream of it. Just wanted to let you know that sometimes one business can start doing so well that all the others in town suffer. Sometimes, one business can put the word out that the other stores in town don’t want to sell their product to the tourists. Once word like that gets out, well… those other businesses tend to suffer. Seen it happen before. I’d hate to see it happen here in Misty Hollow.”

  “I think you need to leave now,” Darcy told him flatly. “I also think you might want to purchase your books somewhere else.”

  “Hmm. Not a bad idea.” He pulled at his ear again, slowly nodding his head. “Maybe it is time for Misty Hollow to have two bookstores. Mmm-hmm. You’ve given me something to think on, Mrs. Tinker. You sure have.”

  “It’s Sweet,” she corrected him. She was married to Jon Tinker, but their agreement was for each of them to keep their own last name, at least in their public life. They would pass their surname down to their children according to gender. Girls would be named Sweet. The boys, Tinker. “My name is Darcy Sweet, Mister Ford. I’ve lived in this town all of my adult life and I know the people here. We’re a tough bunch, and we don’t take kindly to being forced into doing things. We especially don’t like to be threatened.”

  He pulled his hat down a little lower, his smile still on high wattage. “Point taken, Miss Sweet. Point taken.”

  Then he looked over her shoulder, and waved with his fingers. “Hey there, Little Miss. You having as good a day as I am?”

  Darcy looked back, over behind the sales counter, where Colby had come to watch the conversation. She sighed, hating herself for losing her temper in front of her daughter. Even if this big bull of a man had deserved every word, Colby didn’t need to hear such things.

  “I think you should go,” Colby told Tobias.

  Darcy wasn’t sure whether she or Tobias were more surprised. He grunted something unintelligible, and then turned on his heel and stalked across the floor to leave, the little shopkeepers bell ringing furiously as the door closed on the falling, blowing snow.

  “I don’t think I like him,” Colby said to her mother, drumming her fingertips on the sales counter, back and forth. “Nope. I’ve decided. I don’t like him.”

  Somewhere back in the bookstore, three books fell off their shelves one after the other. Whump. Whump. Whump!

  Colby shrugged. “I don’t think Millie likes him, either.”

  As Darcy went to pick up the books that her aunt had thrown to the floor, she had to wonder if anyone at all liked Tobias Ford.

  Anyone other than himself, that is.

  Chapter 2

  When they got home, Jon surprised them by having dinner already made and keeping warm on low heat on the stove. The aroma of macaroni and cheese and grilled hotdogs filled the air as soon as Darcy and Colby got inside.

  Jon met them at the door, spinning Colby around and around as he pretended to have completely forgotten how to take off a seven-year-old’s jacket. One sleeve came off, got turned inside out, and somehow managed to go back on. At one point he had her rolled up into his arms, head down toward the floor, feet kicking in the air, while she laughed so hard her face turned red and she could barely breathe.

  “Jon, don’t break our daughter, please,” Darcy said with mock concern. “She’s the only one we have.”

  Setting Colby on her feet again, Jon knelt down to cover her ears with his hands and whisper to Darcy, “The only one for now.”

  “Ew, gross,” Colby giggled, pushing Jon’s hands away. “You guys are not allowed to talk about stuff like that while I’m in the room.”

  Jon stood up, pulling Darcy close, wrapping his arms around her. “So, are we allowed to do things like this?”

  He kissed Darcy’s lips, and she smiled, watching Colby’s reaction out of the corner of her eye. Their daughter was very intently trying to act like she wasn’t interested in all that kissing stuff.

  With a shrug, she said, “I suppose you can kiss if you want.”

  “Hmm,” Jon wondered. “What if I do… this?”

  He took a deep breath, and then threw his face into the crook of Darcy’s neck, making loud and exaggerated biting noises as if he was going to chew her up. “Um nom nom!”

  “No, no, no!” Colby squealed, running from the room, trailing her jacket behind her on the floor. “You guys are crazy!”

  Darcy was laughing as she tried to push Jon away. His lips were kissing her in a very ticklish spot and it was all she could do to keep from curling up, helpless in his arms. “Jon! Quit it! We’ve got dinner to put on the table and Colby needs to be fed and… and…”

  His teeth nipped her skin and she yelped.

  “None of that!” she scolded him, slapping her palm against his shoulder over and over until he finally let her go. “You, Mister Tinker, are incorrigible.”

  “You, Mrs. Sweet, know a lot of big words.” He caught her hand as she tried to slip past him and twirled her around like they were dancing. “Must come from working in a bookstore.”

  “It comes from reading,” she told him proudly. “And you knew I was a diehard bibliophile when you married me.”

  “That’s true, oh user of big words. Well. I guess we all have our flaws.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “Very funny. How about this. I set the table, and you serve this amazing feast you’ve made for us.”

  “It might not be fancy,” he said, picking up the plastic spoon from the counter to stir the mac and cheese, “but it’s warm and its filling. Comfort food, my grandmother used to say.”

  “Your gran was right. This is just what we need. Did you see the weather outside?”

  “Yup,” he said, absently rubbing at the line of the scar on his forehead. Ever since recovering from his near-death experience that scar had paled until it was hardly noticeable, but it still bothered him whenever it was going to rain or snow or anything like that. “It’s getting worse. I’ve already called in an extra patrol for tonight for when the car accidents start.”

  “Are you expecting a lot of accidents?”

  �
��First snow of the year, everybody forgets how to drive.”

  Darcy set three places at the small kitchen table. It made her feel good inside to have them all together, as a family. So many times there were things that could have gone horribly wrong, one way or the other, and the story would have been written very differently if they had. Now she could look forward to what the next chapter would bring. Just the fact that she didn’t know, made the story more enjoyable.

  When she was filling glasses of milk for everyone Tiptoe came jumping up on one of the chairs, meowing at her. Darcy scratched under the cat’s chin, but then gently lifted her down to the floor. “No cats at the table while we’re eating. Sorry.”

  Tiptoe meowed again, and went to the doorway that led from the kitchen to the living room. She sat there, looking back at Darcy.

  “Where’s your dad?” Darcy asked her. “Where’s Smudge?”

  “Meow,” the gray cat answered, flicking her ear in a gesture that was so much like Smudge there would never be any doubt whose daughter she was.

  “Well. Stay down there and maybe there will be some hotdog bites for you and him. If you’re good.”

  “You spoil them,” Jon told her, like he’d told her a thousand times before.

  “They’re good cats,” Darcy countered. “They deserve a treat sometimes.”

  “Lucky cats.” He winked at her, dishing out creamy piles of cheesy noodles onto each plate.

  Darcy leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Well, if you’re good, maybe there will be a treat for you later too.”

  “Ooh, hot dogs?” he teased.

  “Hmm. We’ll see.” The hotdog buns went in the middle of the table, and then everything was set. “Where’s Colby?”

  “She’s probably hiding under her bed,” Jon suggested, “so she doesn’t have to see her parents doing all these public displays of affection.”

  “Sure, but I know she’s hungry.” Stepping over next to Tiptoe, leaning out through the arched doorway, she called out loud enough for Colby to hear her upstairs. “Hey, Colby! Dinner!”