A Darcy Sweet Mystery Box Set Five
Page 25
He didn’t do it.
The question was, could they believe him?
Chapter 5
Jon hadn’t eaten lunch yet, either. He was very happy to find two pizza boxes with slices of pepperoni and veggie lovers still steaming warm in Darcy’s office.
“I take it the veggie pizza’s for you and Izzy?” he said, biting into a drooping triangle of cheese and pepperoni.
“Yes.” Darcy sat down with him on the couch in the crowded office space, moving some books to the floor that were supposed to have been put back on the stacks weeks ago. “I like to change it up sometimes. You can have a piece of it if you want. There’s more than enough here for just me and Izzy.”
“Uh, no thanks. I’m not a big fan of black olives on… anything. There’s soda in the fridge, right?”
Instead of waiting for her to answer he leaned across the little coffee table to the other side of the room where the dorm fridge sat on top of the filing cabinets. Darcy had tried rearranging the office several times but there just wasn’t much she could do to get more space out of it. Someone as tall as Jon could easily reach across from one side to the other to grab a can of cola from the fridge.
“So,” he said, popping the top on the can, “tell me all about our newest friend.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call him a friend,” she said.
“No. Neither would I. In fact, when I do catch up to him I may have to give him a message of my own. Stay away from my wife.” He took another bite of his pizza, chewing it a bit more forcefully than he needed to.
Darcy smiled at him, for his concern for her and the fact that she knew he would always protect her, even if she was a bit too old to be Nancy Drew.
After he swallowed the mouthful of pizza he chased it down with a long drink of soda. “Your sister already filled me in on your talk with Elizabeth. We’ll check out her story about the gambling, of course, but I guess for now she’s off our list. So. Let’s talk about Edmund Beres. I guess the warrants would explain why he’s hiding but I’m not ready to cross him off just yet. Not until I’ve had my own little chat with him. Any idea where we can find him?”
“No.” She hated to admit it, but he could be anywhere. “He’s still around town, I’m sure of it. Whatever this business is that he’s here for it isn’t done yet. He made it very clear that he wasn’t going to leave until he was done.”
“And that can’t be anything good.” He looked down at his pizza, and then set it back down in the box, his appetite gone for the moment. “Like when The Hand was in town searching for Izzy and Lilly. Wait, you don’t think…?”
“No.” That was actually Izzy who answered, standing in the door to the office. “Sorry, I was out here at the sales counter. I could hear you guys talking. No, I don’t think this is The Hand coming after me again. They gave up on me when my Ex couldn’t get parole and then Adolphos went to prison himself. No, I’m sure this is something else.”
Jon smiled at her. “Nice to see that I’m surrounded by such strong women. Still, Izzy, if you see or hear or smell anything that doesn’t feel right you’re going to call me or Darcy, right?”
She gave Darcy a knowing woman-to-woman look, but then nodded for Jon’s sake. “Yup. I promise. Darcy, I’m going to need your input on these purchases. Just, whenever you guys are done. No rush.”
When she was out front again, watching over the customers in the store and making recommendations and ringing up sales, Jon picked his slice of pizza back up for another bite. “Well, that makes me feel a little better, anyway. Although I’m not sure she really meant it when she promised that she would call us.”
“We’re strong women, remember?” Darcy told him, stealing his pizza from him and taking a bite of her own.
He kissed her cheek. “I know you are. I lucked out when I married you.”
“Because I steal your pizza?”
“Because,” he said, snuggling closer to her, “you steal my pizza. And you keep me strong. And you gave us a wonderful, amazing little girl to love.”
“Oh. Yeah. Um, that reminds me that we have something else to talk about.” Reluctantly getting up from Jon’s side she closed the office door, smiling apologetically at Izzy but knowing that this was something that had to stay private. Closing the pizza boxes, she pushed stuff aside on the coffee table so she could sit on a corner of it in front of him. With her hands on his knees, she took a deep breath. “I found Colby in her room last night. She was, um, trying to do a spirit communication.”
“She was what?” he said, a little louder than the closed door would account for. He flicked his eyes in that direction then back to Darcy, repeating himself in a quieter voice. “She was doing a communication? Our little seven-year-old girl? You’ve told me how dangerous those can be and I’ve seen you after you’ve done some that left you out of breath and drenched in sweat… A spirit communication? How does Colby even know to do that?”
“Well, she’s watched me enough times.” Darcy chewed on the end of a fingernail, and then switched to twisting her aunt’s antique ring around her finger, and then finally settled her hands on his knees again just to keep them still. “Jon, it scared me, too. She’s fine, and the candle only burned the floor a little bit—”
“Burned the…? Are you saying she almost started a fire?”
“Yes, almost. Just almost. She didn’t actually set anything on fire.”
“Oh, well that makes me feel so much better.”
“For Pete’s sake Jon, we knew this was going to happen sooner or later.” She also knew that he would be upset when it did. Their little girl, their sweet and innocent little girl, could see and hear and talk to ghosts. Growing up was going to be different for her than it would be for most girls. Darcy knew all about how that felt. “Thankfully, she has an understanding and loving father who isn’t going to go off the handle when she’s just trying to understand her powers.”
He snorted at that, but he did lay his hands down over hers. “You make it sound like we’re raising Supergirl.”
She’d never thought of it that way before, but… “Well, in a way it’s not that far off. Think of everything Clark Kent’s parents must have gone through with him while he was growing up. Son, don’t cook your microwave meals with your heat vision. Son, don’t fly to school. Son, don’t juggle the cows you know it curdles their milk.”
That earned her a real laugh from Jon, and she could see the lines of worry melting away from his face as he did. “Okay, you’re right, I get it. And I did tell you that I would let you take the lead in all things supernatural involving our daughter. Just remember that when it comes time I’m going to be the one to teach her how to throw a football.”
Careful of the tight space in the office, she slipped down to her knees, between his legs, and held his hands in hers. “You’ll make a great peewee coach someday. Right now, Colby has this amazing gift and she needs to practice with it. I agree she’s too young to try the communication. I told her that myself. I do think I’m going to have to start teaching her the techniques for one though, just in case she decides to try it again without us around. I need her to be prepared in case anything happens.”
Jon’s hands smoothed up her arms, to her shoulders, where he pulled her in close to him until her head was against his chest and she could hear his heart beating. She slid her hands around his waist, and if Heaven had a list of the most comforting and reassuring positions for soulmates, this had to be on the top ten list.
“I understand,” he said to her. “I mean, I don’t understand. Not really. I never will, and I’m man enough to admit it. This is where Colby is going to need her mother. I trust you.”
Her heart was melting. “I love you, Jon.”
“I love you too, Darcy. Besides, the next one’s going to be a boy.”
“Oh, the next one.” She laughed softly against his chest. “Is that right?”
“Yup. It’s on my Christmas list.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I l
ove you, Jon.”
“I love you too, Babe.”
They stayed that way for… well, she didn’t know how long before he said, “Who was Colby trying to reach in this communication anyway?”
“Well, that’s the other part of it, really.” Pushing up off her knees, sitting back up on the coffee table, feeling his warmth all over her body still, she hooked her hair back behind her ear. “See, we were in church on Sunday and, um, there was this ghost sitting in the pews.”
He looked at her with a blank expression. “A ghost. In the church.”
“Yeah, it surprised me too but there she was, sitting right up next to the Barses.”
“Oh.” He tapped his one foot against the floor, coming to grips with the fact that he’d been in the same room with a ghost and hadn’t even known it. “So, it was someone from their family? The Barse family?”
“No, I don’t think so.” She went on to describe the ghost with the burned face, and how the young phantom had been standing next to Pastor Phin on the way out. “That’s when she spoke to Colby. She tried to reach out and touch her, too, but I pulled Colby away before she could. Sometimes there’s no telling what a ghost wants from a person. Especially someone as young as our daughter.”
“So, you think the ghost is someone associated with Pastor Phin.” He sat up a little straighter, and held her hands a little tighter.
“I do, actually.” Darcy thought back to what she had seen yesterday. “I had a vision when I shook Pastor Phin’s hand. There was a house, a big beautiful two-story place, and it was on fire. It was a terrible sight because I knew the house was going to be completely destroyed by the flames. The girl’s ghost was burned pretty badly, and probably that means she died in that fire. So… yeah. I think she died in that fire I saw when I touched Phin’s hand.”
Jon let go of her hands as he sat back on the sofa. His eyes had lost their focus and she knew that look on his face.
“What are you thinking?” she asked him.
“I’m thinking about what Grace told me not even an hour ago. About your talk with Elizabeth at her apartment.” He looked up at the ceiling, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Elizabeth said that Pastor Phin would give her at least a partial alibi because he was there at the bakery when she closed up, and then he was there on the sidewalk in front of the fire when she showed up later.”
“Right,” Darcy agreed, not quite following along with his line of reasoning. “I remember. So, Elizabeth is off our list of suspects.”
He ran his hands through his hair and heaved a sigh. “Yeah, she is. If her alibi about this gambling problem holds up, she’s not our man. Or, woman I suppose. She’s off the list. But… I think I have to put someone else’s name on it.”
“What? Who?”
“Pastor Phin.”
“Jon! You can’t be serious.” She stood up, nearly knocking the table over when she did. “You can’t be… why? Why him?”
“Darcy, you just told me there’s already one fire in his past. I’ll have to look up the details but if someone died in that fire, someone close to him, then that makes him a pretty good suspect for this one. He was there before it happened, and he was there after it happened, according to Elizabeth, but what about in between?” He sat up again, tapping a finger in the palm of his opposite hand. “What if he wasn’t just there before and after. What if he was there the whole time, and he set the fire? Remember, he was there the next morning, too. He was in the photos that Wilson took.”
“Sure, Jon, I know that. I was there.” Darcy paced in front of her desk, careful not to knock over the stack of paperwork she still hadn’t gotten around to finishing. “He was just there to give, you know, comfort and support to the community… wasn’t he?”
“I don’t know,” Jon told her. “But I’m going to find out. Obviously, I can’t bring your psychic visions to a judge but I’ll look into Phin’s background and see what turns up. He’s only been in town for a few years. I don’t know that much about him. Do you?”
“No,” Darcy admitted. Then she brightened. “But I know who will. Helen hired him. As the mayor she had to give him permission to use the church building and be a pastor here. She must know all about his background.”
Jon slapped his knee and stood up, grabbing up his coat and the half-eaten slice of pizza. “There you go. That’s a great idea. I’ll start with Helen. Oooh.” He stopped, one arm in and one arm out of his jacket. “I was supposed to stop by and talk to Bobbi Jo Cameron at the hair salon. She said she won’t be around later. This was the only time she had to talk to me.”
“I see you’re working your way through our little list,” Darcy said. Her mind was still on Phin, and the vision she’d seen. She hadn’t gotten any sense of evil intent from touching his hand. Certainly nothing that would indicate that Phin was a firebug who liked to see places burn. Then again, who was that ghost, and what did she have to do with Phin?
And what had Colby heard during her communication? That was a question she hadn’t gotten to ask yet. It was going to be the first thing she asked when her daughter got home from school in just… less than an hour.
Jon noticed her looking at the clock. “I know you have to get home for Colby. Do you maybe want to stop at the hair salon with me on the way, and then I can give you a ride home?”
“Are you inviting me along on the interview, Mister Police Chief?”
“You bet,” he said, gripping the pizza in his teeth and talking around it so he could finish putting the coat on. “I’d be thupid not to have my beth conthultant with me.”
“Your best consultant, am I?” Darcy laughed and picked up her own jacket. “Well. Since you put it that way, how could I refuse?”
Truth be told, she would have went along if Jon had called her a chicken-livered baboon. She wanted to know what Bobbi Jo had to say. If she really meant what she had written in her statement to the police, about wanting to make Tobias regret threatening her, then the whole mystery of who burned the bakery down might just be that easy.
Of course, that would leave them with all the other little mysteries they were digging up. Pastor Phin and his past. Elizabeth and her gambling. Edmund Beres with his arrest warrants and whatever his business was here in Misty Hollow. Colby, and what she might have heard from that ghost.
It was Christmas after all. The season of giving. Her holiday cup was definitely running over.
The Misty Twisty Hair Salon had only been in business for about three years. Darcy could still remember when it first opened. It was the year before she’d almost lost Jon to that nasty business at the Brick Road Casino, the same year that Colby had gotten her purple Bittie Bunny as a gift. Even now, at seven years old, she loved that bunny. It mostly stayed on a shelf in her room these days, but it was still one of her favorite things in the world.
The walk over from the bookstore had been chilly, but it was warm inside the salon. Four swivel chairs with heavy padded seats were lined up along one wall in front of mirrors. The hair shop wasn’t very wide but it was deep. Bobbi Jo worked here with three other women from town, giving cuts and dying hair to make people look younger, and even doing professional makeup consultations. Not the sort of thing Darcy had ever wanted to take advantage of but she knew quite a few of her friends who had paid for the service. She had to admit, Bobbi Jo did good work. She was a definite hit with the tourist crowd.
Hard to believe she’d have any reason to threaten another business owner in town, when she was doing so well for herself.
Stamping slush off their boots, Darcy and Jon stood patiently at the front of the store. The distinctive smell filled the air, a mix of styling gel and hairspray and chemicals that Darcy didn’t even know the names of.
It was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, and there was only the one customer in the shop at the far end. There must not have been many other appointments scheduled for the day either because Bobbi Jo was the only one working. Wearing a heavy green cloth apron over h
er sharp black blouse and black trousers, she was busy trimming the hair of a middle-aged man who probably could have done it himself at home with an electric shaver for all of the bare scalp he was showing.
Jon cleared his throat very pointedly. When Bobbi Jo looked up and saw them, she pulled a sour face and went back to finishing her customer’s haircut. She was a short woman, slim and elegant in her movements but no taller than five foot even. A colorfully painted wooden stepstool was helping her reach up high enough to cut the man’s hair. She tried to make up for her lack of height by twisting her very, very brown hair into a layered beehive style. Darcy had never really liked Bobbi Jo, or disliked her either, but she did think the woman was incredibly vain.
“There you go Mister Bonn.” She gave the hair at the back of his neck a final snip with her scissors. “All done. See you same time next month?”
The man smiled and made some small talk while Bobbi Jo cast veiled glares in the direction of Jon and Darcy. The hostility coming from her was a tangible, real thing, and Darcy couldn’t understand why. Unless…
Was she the one who set the fire?
When Mister Bonn paid for his cut he passed Bobbi Jo a folded white envelope. Odd way of paying, Darcy thought, but maybe he organized his bills that way. There were still a lot of people who came into her shop and paid for books with cash money. It wasn’t a completely plastic world yet.
He smiled at both of them as he left. A draft of cold air snuck its way in until the door closed again on its pneumatic hinge. Even so, the frost hung in the air as Bobbi Jo took out a small towel from the catch pocket of her apron and slapped away leftover pieces of hair from the chair. Pieces that Darcy couldn’t see, and that she suspected weren’t really there.
“Miss Cameron,” Jon said, after they had stood there for nearly a minute being ignored. “I’d like to ask you some questions.”
“I have nothing more to say to you,” was the curt answer. Walking over to the far corner of the shop Bobbi Jo got a broom and began sweeping the floor. She kept her eyes down, and her hairdo bounced against the hold of whatever industrial strength hairspray she used to keep it looking just so.