Death Comes to Town

by K. J. Emrick

  ***

  At home Darcy got ready for bed quickly, throwing on an old pair of pajamas, and then climbing under the covers. It had been a very disappointing evening. She had really been expecting some big revelation like in Agatha Christie’s novel. It hadn’t materialized.

  Smudge curled up next to her as she drifted off to sleep.

  She was awoken by a loud yowl from her cat, to find a figure standing over her, wearing dark, baggy clothing. This wasn’t a dream. This figure was real, the gun he held was real. She was about to be shot. The next victim of the killer.

  Darcy had to think quickly so she grabbed hold of a book on her bedside table and threw it as hard as she could at the person. The figure dodged the book and ran out of the door.

  Shaking uncontrollably, Darcy reached for her phone to call the police.

  Chapter Twenty

  Darcy was very shaken up after what had happened and was sitting stiffly on her couch with Smudge. She had her legs drawn up to her chest and her arms were hugging her knees as she tried to stop the shaking.

  She had been watching her front door for minutes that felt like hours, terrified that the intruder was going to come back. When the handle of the front door rattled as if someone was trying to get in she hesitantly moved over to the door and checked the peep hole. Relief flooded through her as she opened it.

  Jon rushed into the house and drew her into a tight hug. “Are you okay? Are you sure they’re gone?”

  “I’m fine, Jon. I scared him away. I threw a book at him.”

  He looked at her like she was crazy and she felt a smile come over her. “What can I say? Books have been my saving grace more than once in my life.”

  “You really should stop investigating.” He led her back to the couch and they sat down together. “We’re obviously close to something, why else would you be attacked?”

  Darcy was suddenly very aware that she was only wearing her pair of yellow pajamas, and aware of how low the buttons were on the front, and aware that he was very, very close to her. Jon looked at her intently and then lowered his head to kiss her. It was a quick, hard kiss that let her know just how shook up he was by this. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you,” he said to her. “Now. Tell me exactly what happened.”

  So she told him how Smudge’s yowling had woken her up and she had found a figure standing over her. When she was done telling the tale, she realized how silly it sounded. “Jon, I’m sure that Anna and Jeff fought back in some way before they were shot. I mean, he had a gun. Why would the murderer change his mind after having a book thrown at him?”

  Jon shrugged. She could see his mind turning. “Maybe they only meant to scare you. Listen. We need to fill out a report on this. This is big. It’s the first fresh clue we’ve gotten.”

  Darcy nodded but she just didn’t feel up to going down to the station. “I’m really tired. Can’t we do it tomorrow? I really just want to go to sleep now.”

  He frowned, but nodded. “All right. I’ll call another officer in and we’ll do a check through your house for anything the guy left behind. A footprint or a fingerprint would be great. Go up to bed. I’ll take care of it.”

  She smiled at his thoughtfulness before pecking him on the cheek. Fighting the urge to stay with Jon, or ask him to stay with her, she quickly made her way upstairs to bed.

  ***

  The next morning Darcy woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking. Suddenly realizing she was starving, she wandered downstairs to find Jon in the kitchen.

  “I didn’t know you could cook,” she teased him.

  “My grandmother made sure I knew how to.” He impressed her by flipping a frying egg in the air and catching it deftly with the pan. “She used to worry that I would starve when I left home. Because my mother was already gone she took me in and brought me up when I lost my father.”

  Darcy smiled at him as she sat down to a plate of eggs and pancakes. “I’ll never eat all this,” she said, but she was so hungry that she managed to scarf the lot down.

  “Did you guys find anything last night?” she asked him.

  “No. Nothing. Not a footprint or anything. The guy was either good, or lucky. Either way it leaves us with nothing.”

  After they’d eaten and cleaned up, and after Darcy had taken a quick shower and dressed, they sat down to work out exactly what they knew.

  “We need to talk to Pete,” Darcy said. After she had found out that he might have gained the ability to lie to her, his alibi needed to be investigated. “After all, Pete did date Anna at one time. And his alibi is his sick brother.”

  “Okay, so let me ask you. Do you think that Pete fits the build of the person who broke into your house last night?”

  She remembered the image of that dark form in her bedroom all too well. “I think so, but I can’t be completely sure.”

  Jon nodded. “What do you say I go and ask him?”

  She felt so much more confident with Jon on her side. She was very glad she had decided to trust him.

  ***

  Jon and Darcy walked into town together that morning. “I’m going to talk to Pete, Blake and Doctor Sandal,” Jon said. “I want to nail down Pete’s alibi. You be extra careful today.” He stroked her cheek before walking towards the police station. As that now familiar warm feeling zinged through her from the touch of his hand, Darcy watched him walk away, enjoying the way he moved. Then she headed towards the bookstore. At the last minute she decided to detour to the bakery to get coffee.

  She felt better about seeing Helen today. Every man in town might freak her out after what happened last night, but now she was as sure as ever that Helen was not the person behind these events. “Good morning Helen, how are you today?” Darcy could see that Helen was still reading “And Then There Were None.”

  It took Helen a second to realize that Darcy had spoken to her. “Oh, Darcy. I’m sorry. I’m on the last few pages of this book and I just want to get it finished to find out what happens in the end.” She put the book on the counter while she got Darcy coffee.

  Darcy picked the book up and said, “Well, I won’t ruin it for you. Where did you get this copy?”

  “That? I, uh, found it lying around the house.”

  Helen hadn’t sounded very convincing. She wondered why it would be such a secret. Darcy absently thumbed through the pages of the book and then realized that this copy was from her store. It even had the little pencil number in the front that Darcy made in every book she inventoried. Had she sold this to Helen?

  She held the cover and folded it back and forth along the crease. She had a feeling that she was very close to something, akin to a word being on the tip of her tongue and not being able to recall it.

  She turned the book over and saw a small, dark red splotch. The novel slipped from her hand to thump quietly against the floor. “Millie,” she whispered.

  “What did you say Darcy?” Helen came back with a coffee in her hand, an eyebrow raised when she saw her book on the floor.

  Darcy shook her head and said, “I have to go.” She ran out of the bakery without her coffee. She had just realized what Millie was trying to tell her by throwing around the copy of Agatha Christie’s novel all over the bookstore. The copy of Helen’s book had belonged to Anna. Darcy had finally recognized that deep crease down the front cover. She thought that the red splotch on the back of the book might be blood. She raced to the police station, hoping Jon was there.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Jon lifted his head up when he saw her rush in.

  She was out of breath, needing a moment to gather herself.

  “What’s happened?” Jon asked, picking up on her anxiety.

  Darcy went on to tell him all about the book with the crease on the front cover, the blood on the back. Anna’s book, in Helen’s hands. “And she acted so odd when she was explaining how she came to have the book,” she finished.

  “And you just left the book there?” Jon said to her.


  Darcy felt foolish. Of course. The one hard piece of evidence that could prove who had killed Anna, and then Jeff, and she had left it in the hands of the prime suspect. She called herself all kinds of stupid.

  He rubbed his fingers along his eyebrows. “Don’t worry about it, Darcy. I will go and bring Helen in for questioning. You should know that Doctor Sandal vouched for Blake being sick, at least. So that’s that with Blake and probably his brother Pete, too.”

  Jon left Darcy at the station and went to collect Helen. Grace was nowhere to be seen, and Darcy was glad for that little blessing. Her sister was still mad at her, and that part of the investigation was still a loose puzzle piece.

  When Jon returned he brought Helen in wearing handcuffs. It looked as if she had been crying. Jon led her to a holding cell and then returned to Darcy.

  Darcy immediately snapped at him. “Did you have to handcuff her? Come on, Jon.”

  He shook his head. “She refused to come with me. That’s why she was wearing the handcuffs. I think her exact words were ‘I had nothing to do with this so you can’t arrest me.’” He flopped down into his chair and wiped a weary hand over his face. Then he looked at Darcy and said, “She was adamant that she loved Anna and would never hurt her or Jeff.”

  Jon held up the book, the one Helen had been reading, for Darcy to see. It was in a sealed evidence bag. “It does look like blood on the back. I think you were right about that. I’m going to send it to the lab to get it tested. But she gave it to me without any hesitation. She didn’t even try to deny that she had it.”

  Darcy sighed. She still had so many questions. It didn’t seem like they’d solved anything. It just felt like they’d found more pieces to fit into the puzzle. And most of all, she was just so tired. She put a hand over her mouth as she yawned widely.

  “You should go home and rest,” Jon said to her. He came around the desk and held out his hand. When she took it he pulled her in for a quick hug and then risked a kiss on her forehead. She didn’t know what was going to happen between them, but he was right to keep it private, for now. At least in public.

  ***

  Back at her house Darcy found she couldn’t sleep even though she was exhausted. She was sitting at her table trying to read a book, tapping her foot rhythmically against the table leg. She was so jittery and couldn’t settle her mind. She kept reading the same sentence over and over.

  She could feel Smudge looking at her. “I can’t help it,” she said to him. “We’re just going to have to wait.”

  Finally she tossed her book down on the table. She sighed loudly. What to do? She got up and went to the phone, punching in the number for the police station. Jon answered on the second ring. It hadn’t been all that long, but in spite of how she had told Smudge to be patient, she had to know if anything had happened.

  When he said hello she jumped right into it. She was too agitated for pleasantries. “How’s it going?”

  “Well, hello to you too,” Jon said with a hint of laughter in his voice. “I’ve got nothing new, Darcy. Helen just keeps saying she doesn’t know anything. Oh, I have to go. The mayor just arrived and I need to explain what’s happening. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Hmm. I’d like that. Bye.” She hung up the phone, surprised at herself for being so forward with him. She had finally accepted that not only was there something going on between them, but she wanted there to be something.

  Smudge meowed and went to the door. He started scratching at it, wanting to get out. “You know what? That’s a great idea. It won’t do either of us any good to just sit around waiting for something to happen.”

  Darcy grabbed her coat and pulled it on. Then she and Smudge slipped out into the foggy night.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  When she left her house Darcy didn’t really have a destination in mind but soon she found herself heading towards Helen’s house. It was one of the larger houses in town, a sprawling two story white mansion at the end of one of the side streets. She made it there quicker than she had expected. All the lights were off and she was certain that Helen’s husband, the mayor, would still be at the police station. She wasn’t even sure why she was here, except that she still didn’t feel right about what had happened to Helen.

  She tried the door but it was locked. She went round to the back of the house and found one of the windows opened just a bit. With a bit of leverage she managed to get through with nothing more serious than a scrape to her left wrist. She had been in the house a few times before to visit Helen and knew her way around pretty well.

  She headed for Helen and Steve’s bedroom first, turning lights on and off as she needed. She wasn’t certain what she was looking for. Tapping into her sixth sense and extending it out she tried to let it guide her. It didn’t help. She still didn’t feel anything.

  She continued to walk through the house, looking for anything that was out of place. She went into the study and looked over Helen’s desk. It was very neat. Everything tidy and in place.

  Then she walked over to the mayor’s desk, a huge oak thing that looked like it belonged in a room much bigger and grander than this one. His was much messier than Helen’s. She pawed through some of the papers on top of the desk but couldn’t see anything that shouldn’t have been there. She opened up one of the drawers. Inside it she found a plain manila envelope. It was filled with cash, a passport and a ticket to Paris.

  She didn’t need her sixth sense to know this was out of place. Why would Steve Nelson, mayor of Misty Hollow and by all accounts a stand-up kind of guy, have money and the means to get out of town stashed in a drawer of his desk?

  She moved the pieces around in her head. Everything was there, she felt. The picture was fuzzy, but the edges of what she knew started to line up and fall into place…

  Then it hit her. The man in her dreams. Jeff circling the financial statements. Helen saying they needed money. Even Steve being so nervous on the day of the festival when Anna was killed. It was the mayor! She realized that Helen’s book had belonged to Anna, but Helen wasn’t the one that had taken it from her. Steve had.

  Oh, dear God, she thought to herself. She’d made a terrible mistake. She raced out of the room, knowing she had to get to Jon, but as she stepped into the living room she heard the door close and someone walk into the house.

  Darcy slid to a halt on the carpeted floor and took precious seconds to right herself before she tiptoed back into the office with the desks hoping to avoid detection. It was only then that she realized she had left the light on in that room. Retreating further into the house, she hugged the wall in the hallway that led from the bedroom.

  She could just see Steve as he entered the office. She didn’t know what to do now. Run? Hide? She felt frozen with terror. In her panic to get away she backed up into the corner of a table. Whirling, hoping Steve hadn’t heard the muted sound, she tried desperately to keep the box of tissues and picture frames from falling to the floor.

  Steve appeared at the end of the hallway, flipping on the light switch. “Darcy?” He sounded confused. “What are you doing here?”

  “I, uh, hi Steve. Hi. I, um, I was looking for Helen.”

  She hardly had the words out before Steve said, “Helen is at the police station. You know that. You’re the reason she got arrested, after all.”

  “I uh… I uh…” Darcy had no idea what to say. The thought crossed her mind that if she was going to continue getting into trouble like this then she needed to learn how to sneak in and out of people’s homes better. She needed to get out of here, away from Steve. Fear gripped her heart. This man had killed two people.

  She needed to get away from him.

  “Wait here,” Steve said. He stepped out of the hallway and back into the office and Darcy knew she had to take this chance if she wanted to stay alive. She ran for the back room and its open window but before she had hardly moved Steve grabbed her by the arm. He threw her to the floor and towered over her. He held a gun in his hand. �
�You have always been trouble Darcy,” he said with a cold smile, “always meddling in things that don’t concern you.”

  “You’re the one who killed Anna and Jeff.” She raised an arm defensively and pushed her way backward along the hallway. “I think that concerns me.”

  Steve shook his head and said, “You don’t understand. I had to do it. What choice did I have?” He took a step toward her as she continued to scoot away. “I’m not going to justify myself to you, though. I’ve got no reason to talk to a dead woman. Goodbye, Darcy.”

  She was sure the loud noise that echoed through the house then was the gun going off but she found herself still miraculously alive as Steve looked up and away from her in surprise.

  It was the front door breaking in, she realized. Suddenly she could hear Jon’s voice as he burst into the hallway, followed by Smudge the cat, who landed protectively beside Darcy. His fur was on end with his back arched up and his teeth bared as he hissed menacingly at Steve.

  Jon reacted quickly to the situation and tackled Steve. In mere seconds he had Steve disarmed and in cuffs. It was over. Just like that.

  Smudge spit one last time and then settled himself, pushing his face into Darcy’s. “I’m okay, boy,” she said as she patted the cat. “I take it I have you to thank for my rescue?”

  “No, actually I think you have me to thank for that,” Jon said. Smudge mewled at him and looked away as if to argue the point. When he knew that Steve was subdued, Jon picked her up off the floor and pulled her into his arms, hugging her to him tightly. “Are you alright?”

  She nodded into his shoulder. “How did you know I was here?”

  Jon smiled. “Smudge came and got me. He wouldn’t leave me alone until I followed him.” Jon kissed her quickly. “I have to take care of Steve right now. Follow me out of here, okay?”

  She waited for him to pick Steve up and, holding him by his shirt and his bound hands, walk him out of the house. “Steve Nelson you are under arrest for the murder of Anna Louis and Jeff Thomas…” Darcy picked Smudge up and held him in her arms as she followed Jon.