K.J. Emrick - Darcy Sweet 11 - Resorting to Murder

by K. J. Emrick

Darcy shook her head, silently telling him to wait. She couldn’t explain it to him now. Not while JoEllen was standing right here with them. He dipped his head, a slight nod that was almost impossible to see. He understood.

  They listened while JoEllen placed her order. “Yes. Just the one pizza this time. No, not two. One. I know. Buried in cheese. Payment on delivery. Yup. Same address as last time. ‘Kay. I’ll be waiting.”

  She hung up the phone, putting it back into its stand, and turned to them. There was a look in her eyes that was there and then gone again before Darcy could identify it. Whatever was going on with JoEllen, Darcy knew she wanted the woman out of their cabin. At least until she and Jon could talk about what she’d seen in her vision.

  Walking over to Jon she nestled her head against his chest, putting a hand possessively on his arm. “We were just having our dinner, too,” she said to JoEllen, making it obvious she wanted to be alone with her man. “Maybe we should get together tomorrow? It would be nice to have some people to pal around with while we’re here.”

  JoEllen’s expression changed again, back to the same friendly smile she’d shown them before. “That would be excellent. I’m here for two weeks on a company retreat and I am going out of my mind with boredom. I would love to have someone to talk to. Do you guys like to hike?”

  They did, as a matter of fact. She and Jon had spent hours a day up here the last time they had gone on vacation walking through the woods. They’d never gone very far into the trails that led up the mountain. Just the tamer ones on the more even ground around the resort, meant for hikers and lovers like them.

  Jon caught Darcy’s eye, and it was decided just like that. “That sounds fun. Have you been on the trails here before?”

  “Sure. Lots of times.” She looked away from them as she said it, making a show of checking the slim wristwatch on her left arm. “Oops. Got to go. I don’t want to miss the pizza delivery. Awesome to meet you, Darcy, Jon.”

  She waved as she closed the cabin door behind herself.

  “What did you see?” Jon asked immediately, keeping his voice low so that there was no chance it would carry outside. “I know that look I saw on your face. Did you see blood on her hands?”

  Seeing blood on the hands of someone who had committed certain violent acts—like murder—was another trick Darcy could do. It required an effort of will channeled through her soul, more or less, and was nowhere near as easy as it sounded. This had been something else. Something her gift did without her having to use any special techniques.

  “No,” she told him. “A vision. I saw a vision. It was chopped up and confusing, but I think…I think there’s a dead man up on the mountain trails somewhere. A dead man who meant a lot to JoEllen. She was there.”

  Darcy told Jon everything she had seen in the split second she had been touching JoEllen’s hand. Running through the trees. The sign warning of danger. The rain. The dead body. It took her a while, because he asked lots of questions to get details from her that she wouldn’t have thought to mention otherwise. No, JoEllen didn’t seem to be hurt. No, Darcy hadn’t seen a weapon. Yes, she was sure it was a man buried there in the dirt. In her vision, JoEllen had known it was a man.

  “So,” he said when they had gone over the story from every possible angle. “Another mystery.”

  Darcy and Jon had shared so many mysteries together, so many investigations into suspicious deaths and other things, that talking about this now didn’t seem strange at all to her. It felt oddly normal. Like they were reclaiming another part of their lives. They had always worked good together as a team. Better than good, in fact.

  At some point Darcy found herself in Jon’s arms again as they sat on the edge of the bed. They touched each other frequently as they talked, softly and intimately, and before long their dinner was completely forgotten. Her dress fell to the floor, next to his clothes, and they made an early night of things, promising to tackle the mystery of JoEllen Meyers tomorrow.

  Later, she woke up from a nightmare where shadowy figures chased her through a forest of trees that bent and twisted, trapping her no matter where she turned.

  Jon held her close as her heart raced, and told her it would be all right.

  The dream left behind the squirmy feeling in the pit of her stomach that there was a lot more going on than what she had seen in her vision. A murder in the woods. A dead man, buried in a shallow grave. JoEllen, crying in the rain and mud.

  Darcy drifted off again, lying there in Jon’s arms, sleeping peacefully the rest of the night.

  Chapter Two

  The sun felt good on Darcy’s face as she stepped out of the cabin the next morning. Saturday. Two more days here with Jon. And, with a neighbor in the next cabin hiding a secret.

  She had tied her long dark hair into a pony tail that she pulled forward over one shoulder. The antique silver ring that used to be her Aunt Millie’s rested comfortably on the finger of her right hand. A purple tanktop and jean shorts would help her keep cool in the day’s heat. It promised to be unseasonably warm, and humid as well, but she was ready for it.

  Jon had offered to take her out to breakfast once he had gotten himself ready. The resort cabins were about a fifteen minute drive from the nearby town, where restaurants and gift shops awaited the tourists. Like them, she thought with a smile. Ski rental businesses were closed for the season but Darcy had seen a bicycle rental place and a few other things that looked like fun. Not to mention a bookstore that looked a little rustic. It was little places like that where she always found the most unique books.

  Hey, just because this was a makeup vacation with her boyfriend didn’t mean she couldn’t still hunt for books.

  The cabins of the Lonely Cub Resort were spread out in a semicircle from the central hub of a main lodge with its coffee bar and a sauna room and the Resort’s main offices. Her and Jon’s cabin was near the middle of the line, identical to all the others in every way. Cut log walls, doors painted brown, fake green shutters screwed into place framing the windows, a red tiled roof.

  She looked over at the next cabin in the row. Cabin seven. It was just a hundred feet away with some shrubbery between. Everything was quiet there. She wondered if JoEllen was up and about yet. She also wondered what exactly her vision from last night had meant.

  In the middle of her thoughts she felt Jon’s strong hands on her shoulders suddenly and she leaned back into him. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning to you,” he said, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck and make her skin tingle. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

  “Kind of,” she admitted.

  “Our visitor from last night?” he guessed.

  “What else?”

  His hands began rubbing her shoulders and she felt like she could skip breakfast altogether and just let him do that. Just the right pressure with his thumbs and the heels of his hands and there was a knot right there that he could so—

  “Well, let’s go over and say hi, then,” he suggested, taking his hands away and walking in the direction of cabin seven.

  Darcy sighed. She was definitely going to make him do more of that tonight. After all, he was working to make up for things, right?

  For now she followed him to JoEllen’s cabin, watching him walk in his jeans and black t-shirt. It was an unusual treat to see him in anything other than the dress shirts and slacks he wore for work. She definitely appreciated the way he dressed down. As for what they were going to say when JoEllen opened the door, she wasn’t really sure. Would, “hi we were wondering if you’ve murdered anyone lately,” be too direct?

  She hung back a little as Jon knocked on the door, and they waited a few seconds before they heard “Who is it?” from inside. JoEllen’s voice.

  “It’s Jon and Darcy,” Jon told her. “From the cabin next door.”

  Darcy didn’t know if anyone else would pick up on how Jon had his body bladed to the doorway, one foot just a step or two back further than the othe
r, ready to run, or ready to fight. It was his police instincts taking over, sensing danger and reacting to it.

  It was oddly attractive, and Darcy was still staring at him when he door opened.

  JoEllen leaned out, looking first at Jon and then Darcy, keeping the door mostly closed as she did. Her hair was mussed, and her eyes were still a little red like she’d just gotten out of bed. Or been crying? After a moment’s hesitation, she smiled. “Hey, guys. Good morning. What’s up?”

  “We just wanted to say hi and see if maybe we could meet for lunch before our hike today,” Jon said smoothly. His body language didn’t change and Darcy took it as a cue to keep her distance.

  “Oh, you bet,” JoEllen said. “Um. Can I meet you in town, maybe? There’s this place called BoBo’s. Right on Main Street. I know, dumb name, but it really has good food. Meet you there around noon?”

  Jon nodded, his own smile overly friendly. “That sounds perfect. We’re headed into town now, actually. We’ll meet you there.”

  “Great. See you then!” JoEllen waved with her fingers and then retreated behind the door before closing it again.

  “Lunch?” Darcy asked, letting Jon take her by the hand and lead her toward the parking lot on the other side of the main building. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Yes. We need an excuse to talk with her and ask her questions, right? Lunch is the perfect excuse. Besides…” He looked around them, making sure no one was walking on the gravel paths near them or hanging out on the porch leading up to the coffee house entrance. There wasn’t, but he lowered his voice anyway. “There’s a lot more going on here than we thought.”

  “You mean, more than a dead man buried in the woods?”

  “Yes,” was the quick reply. “More than that. JoEllen had a gun in her hand just now.”

  Darcy’s eyes widened. She kept walking, not wanting JoEllen to come out of her cabin at any point and see her expression and maybe guess what they were talking about. “A gun? Are you sure? Did you see it?”

  “I didn’t see it,” he admitted. “But I know what it looks like when someone is trying to conceal a gun behind their back. She had one with her. That’s why she wouldn’t open up the door for us, and why she didn’t come out to talk to us.”

  Darcy trusted Jon’s knowledge of these things. He was a great police officer, and his instincts had saved both of their lives more than once.

  JoEllen had a gun. Had she killed the man in Darcy’s vision?

  ***

  Breakfast was an amazing omelet with green peppers and ham. Darcy sat with Jon in an open air café decorated with the same kind of carved bear statues that were everywhere in town. Their round white table had a rainbow colored umbrella on a pole that hung over their heads. It was a nice, shady spot with cool breezes flowing down the street. Around them the town moved at its own slow pace. A few cars drove by with windows down and people’s arms hanging out. Dogs trotted down the sidewalks or across lawns. People ambled by, apparently in no hurry to be anywhere.

  She saw a cat stalking through an alleyway and it made her think of Smudge. She’d been leaving her big black and white tomcat alone a lot recently. She’d have to give him some extra love and attention when they got back home.

  When Darcy realized that the peaceful setting of Bear Ridge had made her forget all about JoEllen Meyers and her connection to a dead man she sat up a little straighter in her chair. It surprised her, because the vision had made such a strong impression. She’d thought at first that she would never be able to get it out of her mind. Yet here she was, in this picturesque town with its little, neat houses and its quaint shops, enjoying the fresh air and the view and the company of Jon Tinker.

  Which was exactly what she had wanted for this weekend. She relaxed back into her breakfast, sharing a smile with Jon. The mystery they had fallen into could wait for a little while longer. She hoped.

  Over cups of coffee they talked about what they wanted to do this morning. There was a store just up the street that sold fishing supplies, and Jon wanted to poke around in there. His father had taken him fishing a few times, he explained, back when he’d been only about five or six. Those were some of the best memories he had of his dad.

  Darcy listened with interest to this little snippet of his childhood that they’d never talked about before. It was nice to know they could share those things together.

  For her part, she wanted to look into that bookstore here in town. It was up the street the other way, so they made plans to split up for an hour or two and meet back here. Darcy felt a little disappointed that they wouldn’t be spending the whole morning together but it was just for a little while. An hour or two at most.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  When that thought crossed her mind, she bit her lower lip, hard. When would she ever learn not to invite trouble?

  They held each other close for a moment and kissed tenderly, then went in separate directions up the neatly trimmed sidewalk. Their fingertips were the last things to touch as their hands slipped apart.

  Darcy still had a smile on her face when she walked into the Golden Bear Bookshop. She had missed being with Jon so much. When he came back into her life just last month she had spent days walking around on pins and needles, waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something to go wrong that would make him leave again. She was only now settling into a belief that he was here. To stay.

  It was a good feeling.

  The Golden Bear Bookstore was small, with a wooden floor that creaked, but every available space was crammed with books. The cream colored walls were lined with shelves stacked with paperback novels and bigger hardcover volumes. Freestanding stacks made of plywood held even more. Around the room hand painted signs declared the different genres. Fantasy. Mystery. Travel. Young Adult. Cooking. Local Humor.

  She looked over the mystery section quickly then turned away to look for something else. She had enough mystery in her life. Although maybe Agatha Christie or Stephanie Plum would be able to give her some pointers.

  The local humor selection caught her attention. One book in particular was set to the front on a little wire holder so that the front faced Darcy. A man laughed in the cover photo from behind a bushy brown beard. A floppy camouflaged hat with a brim that hung down past the man’s wide shoulders sported a round, white button that read “I love bears.” The “love” was spelled with a red heart.

  “A View From the Mountain” read the title of the book under the laughing man. In smaller typeset below that were the words “Tales from Bear Ridge.” Darcy figured the man on the cover was a resident of the town here, publishing a book of local, colorful stories. Picking it up to leaf through it she was immediately caught up in a story of a fish as big and mean as a bear with a thorn in its paw, and the man who wrestled it into his rowboat only to capsize halfway back to shore. The man made had to make a deal with the fish to save his life, riding back to shore on its back.

  She caught herself laughing out loud at the story, and the writing style, and the simple way the author drew the reader in.

  “Like that book?” a man’s cheerful voice asked.

  Darcy turned, holding her page with her finger, to find the man on the book’s cover watching her expectantly, waiting for an answer to his question. His wide smile grinned from behind the same bushy brown beard. Without the hat from his picture his round head peeked through thinning hair. He was a mountain of a man, tall and wide, with a presence that made him seem even bigger than he really was.

  “Hey, this is you,” Darcy said, holding up the book.

  “Yup, that’s me,” he agreed, holding out a massive hand. Darcy’s disappeared into his as they shook. “Carson Middlemiss. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Uh, hi. I’m Darcy Sweet. You wrote this?”

  Carson nodded with some pride. “I did. There’s so much that goes on behind the scenes in a small town like this. People just don’t know the things that folk ‘round here have seen. And done! Figu
red somebody might like to read about the funnier side of life up here in the mountains.”

  It was hard not to smile at the way he said it. Darcy took her hand back, still feeling the pressure of Carson’s hand. “Well, it’s nice to meet the actual author. I run a bookstore back where I live. If the rest of the book is as good as what I just skimmed through, maybe we could work out something and offer it for sale in my store, too?”

  “Wonderful!” Carson roared. “The publishing company did a limited run in our area just to see how it would do, but I’ve got two boxes out back full of them. Only sold about thirty or so. Mostly to folks hereabouts.”

  “Oh, this is your store?” Darcy asked him. It hadn’t occurred to her that Carson would be the owner too.

  “Sure is. My pride and joy. Until the mayor raises taxes again and I can’t afford to keep the place, anyway. Tell you what,” Carson said, raising a finger like an idea had just occurred to him. “Why don’t you give me your e-mail and your store information now, and when you leave town you can come and pick up one of them boxes to take with you. Sound fair?”

  There was a simple kind of innocence in the way Carson said it but Darcy could see the calculation in his eyes. If he took down her information now, that would give him a chance to check out her store and see if she was on the level before he gave any of his books to her. Carson was a lot smarter than he looked.

  “That sounds good to me,” she agreed.

  From the back pocket of his jeans he pulled a spiral bound notebook and a pen to quickly jot out his contact information, his e-mail and phone number and the address of the store. He handed it to Darcy.

  “Thank you.” She folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of her shorts. “My store is the Sweet Read Bookstore in Misty Hollow. We’ve got a website you can look up. My e-mail is darcy at sweetreadbookstore, all lowercase, all one word, dot com.”

  Carson wrote it all down as she said it and underlined the e-mail with a flourish. “Awful glad you came into my store today, Miss Sweet.”