by K. J. Emrick
Jon smiled at her. He looked excited. In his hands he was carrying a large, thin book.
“What’s that?” Darcy asked.
“Well,” he said, obviously proud of himself. “Your boyfriend has been combing through boxes of old files and photos in the basement of the police station. Now, he did this because he loves you, and because he’s sorry he ever made you doubt that. Now. Guess what I found?”
He was so excited he was about to burst and Darcy found herself excited too without even knowing what he was talking about. “So tell me already,” she laughed.
“Your loving boyfriend, who expects to be rewarded for staying up most of the night going through album after album, found, among hundreds of photographs, a single photograph of your dead man.” Jon dropped the book down onto the counter with a flourish and opened it up to a page marked with a scrap of paper. “In this photo album there were pictures for the old Chief’s retirement party years ago. And here,” he pointed to one of the pictures, “is a picture of Roger.”
Darcy looked at it, understanding Jon’s excitement now. “You really are the best boyfriend in the world.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “I am.”
Darcy kissed him on his cheek, but whispered a promise to thank him more later. In the photo stood a very stern looking Roger, and next to him was a female police officer. The photo was labelled, Roger’s name, and then Rose Abbington. Darcy pointed to the woman. “Who is this?”
“I don’t know. A friend of Roger’s, maybe. I’ll ask around when I get to the station today. Somebody may remember.”
“That would be great, Jon. This is one more step closer to finding out who Roger was. If we could find this Rose, and talk to her, she might be able to help.”
Not to mention that Darcy would be able to stop putting protective circles around costumes.
***
Darcy flipped the store’s sign to ‘CLOSED, THE END’ and pulled the front door of the bookstore shut behind her as she left. She hopped on her bike just as Helen began calling for her from the town square. Darcy headed over to her with a smile.
Helen smiled back at her and said, “I just wanted to thank you again for taking over for Santa and Mrs. Claus this year. We need a hundred more volunteers like you and Jon.”
“You’re too kind, Helen.” Darcy debated with herself, but then asked the question anyway. “Say, that suit for Santa looks very old. Do you know how long it’s been used in the pageant?”
“Well I’m not really sure,” Helen said, thoughtfully pursing her lips. “I know it’s been used for years. Might even be the original suit the town used back when the pageant first began thirty five years ago.”
A chill ran down Darcy’s spine that had nothing to do with the weather. If the suit had been around that long, then it was the exact same one that Roger had used the day before he was killed. She realized Helen was looking at her oddly as she stood there silent, so she started up a conversation about something else entirely, and then a few minutes later said her goodbyes and headed for home.
As she rode her bike out of town, she couldn’t help but notice the way the mists were rising in the shadows. It was an eerie thing to see in the cold. Sunlight sparkled on the coalescing vapors as they hung low to the ground. The town had been named after this very phenomenon, this mist that was always present here no matter the time of year. Of course, Darcy knew that they came out strongest when something bad was going to happen. Or when danger was coming.
When she made it home, brooding about Santa suits and dead men and how she always managed to get herself caught in the middle of these mysteries, she was a little alarmed to find the door unlocked.
Carefully she let herself in, the smell of cinnamon and apples filling her nose. Jon’s humming reached her from the kitchen. She relaxed. What a wonderful surprise. He must have used the spare key that she kept in the pot plant on the porch to let himself in. She fully expected to get another lecture from Jon some time about it. She had kind of promised him not to keep it in the pot any more. Oh well, couldn’t be helped now.
“Wow. What is that wonderful smell,” she said as she took her coat and hat off.
She stopped to admire Jon’s jeans straining tightly over his perfect butt as he was bending over at the oven, looking at whatever was cooking. He stood up with a smile and moved over to pull her into his arms for a kiss. “I’m cooking an apple pie. It’s something my grandmother always did around the holidays and it helps me feel closer to her.” He hugged Darcy to his body tightly. “I’ve missed you these last few days. Let’s not fight anymore.”
Darcy tensed and he felt it. Pulling back he gave her an intense look. “What’s wrong?” She could feel him tensing up also. Was it always going to be like this between them?
“I have something to share with you, but you’re probably not going to like it. Again.”
He dropped his arms away from her and her heart stopped beating for just a moment, until she realized he wasn’t walking away from her. Instead, he took her hand and led her to the couch in the living room. “Tell me what it is,” he said to her.
She took a deep breath and explained about what happened with Katrina and what she said about the Santa suit. She had expected Jon to play it off with a joke. Or, maybe she had been hoping he would.
“Do you think it’s haunted?” he asked instead.
“No, I don’t think it’s haunted,” she said, a little exasperated. “I’m not even sure that’s possible.”
“But you said you put one of those candle rings around it.”
She knew her cheeks reddened. “Yes. I did. It was silly.”
“All right. Then I’m sure it’s fine,” Jon said. “Besides, who’s ever heard of a haunted Santa suit?”
Chapter Seven
Darcy knew it was very early before she even opened her eyes. The sun wasn’t even up yet. It was the weekend again and she should be sleeping in. She sighed as she thought about all of the work she needed to get done today in time for the pageant that night.
She lay there for a while listening to Jon’s rhythmic breathing. After several minutes she knew that she was too wide awake to try and go back to sleep so she slipped quietly out of bed, dressed and headed down to the kitchen for breakfast. Soon, she had eggs scrambling and bacon frying.
Looking still half asleep Jon shuffled into the kitchen in time for her to scoop eggs onto a plate. “Good morning,” she said to him. He yawned in return, smiling like a little boy.
As they sat down to eat breakfast Darcy reminded him about the pageant that night.
“I’m ready,” he assured her. “Although I will have to check and make sure there aren’t any ghosts inside the Santa suit before I put it on.”
Darcy laughed. She felt relaxed that Jon could joke around about it.
They finished up breakfast and Darcy packed the dishes into the sink while Jon got showered and dressed. He came back out clean and looking good enough that she couldn’t take her eyes off him for a long moment.
When he winked at her she cleared her throat and then said, “You need to meet me in the town square around six o’clock this evening to get into costume.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said cheekily with that grin still firmly planted on his face.
***
Jon drove them into town. She didn’t even bother bringing her bicycle this time because she and Jon were meeting up again for the pageant that evening. In the town square, everyone was hustling about doing last minute preparations. After kissing Jon goodbye so he could stop into the station and ask around about Rose Abbington, Darcy went to the bookstore so she could put the box of costumes somewhere safe. Then she went over to the Bean There Bakery and Café to get a large coffee. She’d need it to get through the day.
When she entered the café she saw Helen sitting at one of the tables frantically flipping through a notebook and scribbling things down. She looked pretty frazzled. Darcy sat down across from her. “Is everything all right?”
she asked Helen.
Helen looked up at Darcy with wild eyes. She ran a hand through her graying hair and said, “Oh I’m just stressed about this damn pageant. This is my first year doing it as mayor and I just want everything to go perfectly.”
“Oh, Helen you’ll be fine. You’re one of the most put together women I know.” She saw that bring a little smile to her friend’s face. “So I take it that Mister Baskin’s petition didn’t get anywhere?”
“Oh at least one thing went right and worked out for the town. He didn’t get enough signatures. I’m still surprised at all the signatures he did get, though.” Helen rubbed her eyes. “I’m so tired already and the day has barely begun.”
Darcy smiled at her. “I’ve got the rest of the costumes over at the bookstore. When you’re ready, let me know and you can do your final review of them.” Darcy stood up and placed a comforting hand on Helen’s arm. “Everything is going to go perfectly.”
“Thank you Darcy, I’m not sure what I would do without you.”
***
As soon as Darcy entered the bookstore a chilling, violent wind picked up. It viscously swirled around the store knocking books to the floor, knocking knick knacks over and sending her paper snowflakes flying like they were the real thing.
“Oh for the love of God,” she muttered. Why did this particular ghost have to be accompanied by such a powerful wind every time he wanted to make contact?
Darcy watched as Roger’s spirit materialized out of nowhere. “I cannot find peace until I know.”
“I need more time,” Darcy said, a little grumpily. What did this ghost expect? She was only human.
Roger ominously held up two fingers and then abruptly disappeared. She didn’t even have time to ask him why she hadn’t been able to communicate with him the other night.
“Hey!” she shouted after his disappearing image. “What did that mean? Was that a threat?” There was no answer, not from beyond the grave.
Two fingers. Did that mean two days? It would be Christmas in two days and Darcy hoped that she would have solved the mystery by then. Of course, it could have meant two hours or two minutes or two lumps of sugar in his coffee, for all she knew. If ghosts wanted faster results, they could try using a language that the living could understand.
She picked up the fallen books and placed them back on the shelves. Shaking her head she gathered up the costumes and headed over to the town square.
***
Darcy helped Jon into the Santa suit jacket and rearranged the padding for the Santa belly. As he pulled the hat and fluffy white beard on she stepped back to look at him. “You make a pretty convincing Santa,” she said with a wide smile.
He frowned at her as he adjusted the beard. “This thing is itching me already. Exactly how long do I have to wear it for?” She knew he was only pretending to be annoyed as his eyes were twinkling almost as brightly as the little colored lights strung all around the stage area.
“Not long, now don’t be such a grouch.” She nudged him in the ribs and he couldn’t suppress his smile any longer.
The pageant was due to start in about thirty minutes and there was a lot of activity going on behind the stage.
Everything looked beautiful with the trees on stage decorated so lovely and all of the sparkly lights hung about the place everywhere. It looked magical.
The town square was filling up with townsfolk eager to watch the pageant. Darcy was sure that it was going to be a hit. Helen would be so happy, she thought, after all the work she’d put into it. As if on cue, Helen appeared on stage beside her, trying to be everywhere at once.
“Let’s see you in your Missus Claus outfit then,” Jon said jokingly. Darcy quickly donned the outfit which magically turned her into a plump older woman in a red dress with green trim. She pulled on the wig of white hair and then settled the round wire-rimmed glasses on her nose.
“We make quite the couple,” Darcy said to him, her voice pitched higher. Jon laughed and kissed her. Darcy blinked through the glasses and decided to do without them. They were pinching her nose and giving her a headache. They actually looked like they might have been someone’s prescription glasses instead of costume fakes. She left them behind on her duffle bag.
They moved closer to the stage area to listen to the carolers singing a jaunty rendition of Jingle Bells followed by a more sedate Silent Night. Darcy laughed at Jon’s attempt to hug her from behind, their fake padding making it difficult.
The carolers sang several more Christmas songs and the audience joined in. Each person had a lit candle and Darcy thought that it looked magical to see the little flames swaying in time with the music. She was feeling very mellow and happy and was looking forward to this first Christmas, her first together with Jon.
When the carolers had finished singing it was time for the school children to perform the nativity play. They did a great job and almost moved Darcy to tears. At the end of the play the carolers returned and everyone sang Away in a Manger. As the song was ending Helen came up to them and told them to get into place. They were going on straight after the song was finished. They were to sit in a fake sled together and then the children would come up on the stage to sit on Jon’s lap and tell him what they wanted for Christmas.
Darcy smiled up at Jon, turning to say something to him, just as some motion above them caught her eye.
She pulled Jon forward and between his weight and the awkward phony girth of their costumes they ended up toppling over onto the stage in front of the carolers and the entire town.
Behind them, the metal truss that had been holding up the stage curtain came crashing down onto the stage. Everyone went silent.
“Dear God,” Jon breathed. “That could have killed me.”
Darcy let him help her up, eyeing the Santa suit he was wearing.
Chapter Eight
The show must go on.
The fake sleigh was moved down to the front of the stage so Mister and Mrs. Claus could sit in it and let the children tell him what they wanted for Christmas. Helen had been a wreck as the stage collapsed around them, but Darcy and several of the others pointed out that no one was hurt and there was no reason to disappoint the children. This was the solution they had come up with.
Kids sat on Jon’s lap and gladly pretended he was the real thing. He did his best to be cheery and not at all upset that he had nearly just been killed. Several of the parents whispered questions asking if he was okay. He would spout “ho ho ho, of course!” and they would smile and move on.
Darcy knew better. They weren’t okay. This mystery had almost just cost Jon his life. That damned suit might not be haunted, but there sure was something more than either of them knew going on here.
***
When the pageant had ended, Darcy and Jon hurried to her bookstore and stripped out of their costumes there. Neither of them wanted to go backstage to do it, not after the stage setup had tried to kill him. Jon threw the Santa suit on the floor and looked at it like he expected it to bite him.
“No way. No way did a suit just try to kill me.” He ran his hands over his head repeatedly as he paced. Darcy picked the suit up, her hands shaking. Jon snatched it away and tossed it down again. “Don’t touch that thing! What should we do with it? Burn it? Is there an exorcism for clothes?”
Darcy tried not to find that funny. Nothing about this was humorous. “I don’t think we should get ahead of ourselves,” she said. “I’m still not willing to say this thing is haunted.”
“I say we burn it. I’ll buy the town a new one.”
The idea was tempting. Still, if there was a spirit in it, bad things might happen if they tried to destroy the suit without first destroying or dispersing the entity within.
“Look, Jon, I’ll store it for now.” He gaped at her. “I’ll put it in a protective ring. I have some sacred earth in the back. If I lace it with sugar then anything that’s inside the ring will be stuck there until I break the circle.”
After a mome
nt, he shifted his stance and crossed his arms. “Obviously, there’s a lot more to your abilities than I realized.”
“There is. I’ll tell you all about it.” She hesitated. “If you still want to hear it?”
He sighed, but came to her and folded her into his arms. “I do. I promise. Just, not right now, okay?”
She knew that was the best she was going to get. She just hoped it wouldn’t be the way it always was between them.
***
After putting the Santa suit into a paper bag from behind the sales counter in the store and placing the protective ring around it, she and Jon went to Darcy’s house where Jon made cocoa for the two of them. He dropped a couple of marshmallows into each cup and Darcy giggled. “Aren’t we a little old for marshmallows?”
“I nearly got killed today. You nearly got killed with me. I don’t care how old I am, I want marshmallows.”
She took a sip and the extra sweetness from the gooey marshmallows made it that much nicer. She licked her lips and let the warmth from the drink make her feel better. “Okay, you’re right, it is delicious. Thanks.”
They headed into the living room and got comfortable on the couch next to each other. They were quiet for a few minutes while they sipped at their drinks.
“So what should we do next?” Jon asked.
Darcy frowned. “I know you’ll be against it but I need to do a communication with the other side.”
“A communication?” Jon said.
“Um, yes. I tried it once already but there was no contact. I think I need to push it more. There was a block to the communication that I don’t understand. I need to get by that block. That’s the only way we will know if something is wrong with the Santa suit or if something else is really going on here.”
Jon was quiet for a moment until he said, “I understand. You should do whatever it takes to solve this. Just like you always should. I shouldn’t stand in the way of that.”