3 From the Ashes

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3 From the Ashes Page 6

by K. J. Emrick


  She slowly opened her eyes and there in front of her was a shiny new red and white Titan Pathfinder Mountain Bike. She was stunned.

  “Wow. That’s…” She was speechless. “Jon, what’s this for?”

  “It’s for you. You’ve mentioned a few times that you should get a bicycle instead of walking everywhere. I saw this yesterday in the window of the bike store over in Meadowood. I couldn’t resist. I could just imagine you riding it. Think of it as an early birthday present.”

  Darcy couldn’t believe it. Yes, she’d mentioned getting a bicycle. Several times. She never thought that Jon would go out and do this for her, though. “Jon, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you love it,” he suggested. “Say I’m the best boyfriend in the world and you have no Earthly idea what you would do without me.”

  She couldn’t stop grinning at him. “I love you. I love it. You are the best boyfriend in the world and I have no Earthly idea what I would do without you.”

  “There.” He winked at her. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  She slid into his arms. “It’s getting easier by the day.”

  “Think how much better your life would be if we were together all the time, under one roof.”

  “Subtle,” she said sarcastically.

  “Subtlety was never my strong suit. I still think you should think about it.”

  “I am,” she admitted, snuggling into him.

  ***

  That afternoon Darcy left work early to go home and start the dinner for the get together her mother had insisted on. She wasn’t the greatest cook by any means and she spent an hour just nervously flipping through recipes. When she had it narrowed down to what she would be able to cook with what she had on hand, she set water to boil and collected ingredients from cupboards.

  Smudge jumped up onto the counter and planted himself in the middle of the recipe book she was looking at. He stared straight at her with that way he had. “Smudge you’re making me even more nervous. Shoo.” He refused to budge, and she sighed loudly and gave up trying.

  The phone rang right then. “Saved by the bell eh Smudge?” She raced to pick it up. It was Jon.

  “Jon, so help me, if you’re backing out of this dinner I may have to disown you,” she said, only half joking.

  “No, no, I’m not backing out. I’ll be there for sure but I just found out something and wanted you to know right away.” He paused and she nearly reached through the phone to make him say whatever it was quicker. “Sarah’s dad, Louis, broke his arm and a leg a few days before the fire.”

  Darcy’s eyebrows shot up. That was interesting. “Was it an accident?”

  “He reported it as one, but the doctor made a notation in the paperwork for our department that it appeared to be caused by blunt force trauma.”

  “Uh, Jon I don’t speak cop talk. What does that mean?”

  He laughed at her and translated. “It means he was hit by an object like a pipe or a baseball bat. It’s just the doctor’s opinion, though. No one ever followed up on it and Louis never changed his story that I can see.”

  “It must be connected.” Darcy sniffed the air. The dinner! “Oh my gosh I‘ve got to go. See you later.” She hung up before Jon could say anything else and raced back into the kitchen.

  Chapter Eleven

  Wanting to look her best Darcy dressed carefully in a sleek black dress, one of the few she owned. She had always been a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. Tonight she wanted to impress, though. Her mother was always full of comments about the way Darcy dressed. She was hoping this way, at least, that would be one less thing for Eileen to gripe about.

  She had managed to finish cooking the seasoned chicken breasts and pasta without any major disasters. The table was set, the salad started. She was even surprising herself.

  The doorbell rang at exactly six-thirty. Darcy opened the door to find Grace, Aaron and Eileen on the other side. She put on her best smile and soon everyone was seated at the kitchen table while Darcy flitted about doing last minute things like putting the rolls in the oven. Without asking, her mom sat down at the head of the table. Sitting ramrod straight she folded her hands in her lap.

  As her mother was checking her watch for the third time and raising her eyebrows, Jon came walking through the door with the cheesecake she had asked him to pick up from the La Di Da deli. Darcy swept over to him and took the desert out of his hands. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she whispered.

  Jon kissed her modestly on her cheek and whispered back. “I’m always here for you. We should talk about Angelica later.” Then, after introductions were made, he sat down across from Grace and Aaron. Eileen began to chat with him about the town, the upcoming harvest festival and his police work. Darcy was relieved that her mom was being so civil with him. It made a pleasant change.

  Darcy served up the dinner which was surprisingly good. She got compliments from everyone, including her mother.

  As the night progressed and things seemed to be going great Darcy relaxed a little. Eileen had been very well behaved and hadn’t said anything inappropriate all night.

  She should have known it was too good to last. Darcy was serving slices of the cheesecake when Eileen asked Jon right out of the blue, “So Jon, when are you going to propose to my daughter?”

  The room went completely silent and Darcy felt the heat rushing into her face as her cheeks turned bright red.

  “When the moment is right,” Jon said without missing a beat, as if he’d been expecting the question. “We’ve actually been talking about our next step, haven’t we Darcy?”

  She sat down a little heavily with her own plate of cheesecake and stared at him dumbly. Somehow she couldn’t help but think that her mom would know that he’d been asking to move in with her and, worse, that she had been seriously considering it. All she could do was nod and hope the truth didn’t show in her eyes. She felt like a school girl caught making out in her room.

  Eileen beamed, though, happy at the news. “Excellent! Don’t wait too long, Jon. Life goes on without you if you do.”

  Grace and Darcy exchanged another glance. Their mother was definitely acting differently, Darcy decided. Something was up.

  The evening wound down not long after that, with hugs all around and a handshake between Aaron and Jon. Even her mom gave Darcy another of those awkward hugs.

  When the others had left and it was just Darcy and Jon, she turned to him and stomped a foot, even if she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “I can’t believe you said that!”

  “Said what?” he asked innocently, collecting dishes and bringing them to the sink.

  “That bit about us discussing the next step in our relationship.”

  He came back to her, the table half cleared, the sink full of dishes, and pulled her into his arms, softly kissing her neck and sending an electric thrill up her skin. “Well, aren’t we discussing that?”

  She melted. “Maybe we should discuss it more. Upstairs.”

  The night had been nearly perfect. She had Jon to thank for it, and maybe even her mother a little bit. As Jon led her up the stairs, she wondered again why her mom was really in town.

  ***

  The next day was Saturday and as much as Darcy wanted to sleep in next to Jon’s warm body, she had too much to do. She showered quickly before Jon even got up and went downstairs to call Linda. She asked her to bring Sarah and meet her at the bookstore. No one would disturb them there on the weekend, and they could talk privately about what she had discovered so far.

  She got to the store long before Linda and Sarah and used the time to reread parts of Millie’s journal. Millie had written a detailed passage about recreating moments from people’s lives and delving further into their pasts. Darcy wondered if that technique would work for her.

  The bell over the door jingled as Linda entered the store, followed by Sarah.

  “Darcy, what did you find out?” Sarah asked immediately. She looked like she’d s
lept in the red sweater and dark blue jeans she had on.

  Darcy led them over to one of the reading nooks and when they were all settled in chairs, she started with the last thing they had found out. “A few days before the fire, your father broke an arm and a leg.”

  Sarah scrunched her face up. “Yes. He still walks with a limp. He always said it happened when he fell off a ladder. Why?”

  “It may not have been accidental. Do you know of any reason why someone would want to hurt your family?”

  “I have no idea. My father just owns a very small real estate business. There’s nothing much there that could have gotten him into trouble.”

  “Could we maybe ask him?” Darcy suggested. “I wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t want to do it without asking you first. Does he even know you’ve been asking about your mother?”

  Sarah leaned back in her chair, her hands in her lap. “Dad doesn’t like to talk about my mother. Every time I bring her up, he changes the subject. Maybe you’ll have better luck. You can come and meet him tonight, if you want. He had to go into work for a little bit today.”

  “Good,” Darcy said, glad that Sarah was okay with it. She really didn’t know where else to turn.

  “What about Millie?” Linda asked her. “Sarah told me about the photo. I knew those two were friends, but it never occurred to me to mention it.”

  Darcy was surprised that Linda had known about that all this time when she herself was only just finding out. “Um. Well, it turns out that Millie and Sarah’s mom were good friends, like you say. I’m sure that’s all there was to it.”

  She left the other part out, about Millie wanting to help Angelica out. No sense in mentioning it until she understood it better.

  ***

  That evening Darcy rode her new bike over to visit Sarah and Louis at their home. Sarah answered the door to Darcy’s knock and brought her into the living room with a nervous smile. Entering the room Darcy felt like she had been transported into another era. Dark, antique wooden furniture was tastefully arranged against oak paneling on the walls. A mantel clock ticked softly above an empty and clean fire place. It was like the picture of a perfect home in a Norman Rockwell painting.

  Louis sat in one of the chairs, a newspaper open on his lap. He was a middle aged man with dark hair that was graying at the temples and thick round glasses perched on his nose. He had a kindly face and after all of the introductions had taken place he smiled at Darcy before asking her if she would like some tea.

  “That would be lovely, thank you Mister Fender.”

  “Oh, please call me Louis. Mister Fender is my very elderly father.” He grinned at her and then left the room to make the tea. Sarah offered Darcy a seat and they sat on the wingback couch facing the chair Louis had been in, a low and wide coffee table between them. They chatted about mundane things until Louis returned a few minutes later with a tray laden with tea and cookies.

  They chatted about the upcoming harvest festival while they sipped their tea. Darcy was itching to ask Louis the questions they had but she wanted Sarah to direct the conversation. This was her father, after all. Eventually Sarah cleared her throat and put her teacup down on the table.

  “Dad, we wanted to ask you about…” Sarah looked at Darcy for encouragement and then continued. “About Mom and the fire at your house.”

  Louis just looked at her and then put his cup down next to hers. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest defensively.

  “We’ve talked about this before,” he said shortly.

  “I’m trying to help Sarah learn more about her mother,” Darcy told him, hoping to ease his concern.

  “I know who you are, Darcy. Everyone in town does. I know how you like to go poking into places you aren’t invited. Why would you want to dig into such a horrible time? That fire was the worst thing that happened to me and you need to stay out of it.” He punctuated his warning with a shake of his finger.

  Darcy didn’t let his angry tone scare her. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Louis. Don’t you think Sarah has a right to know about her mother?”

  He actually jumped up out of his chair at that point, scaring both women. His voice began to raise in volume as he spoke. “If Sarah has questions about her mother, I’ll be the one to answer them.”

  Darcy wondered at his extreme reaction. It seemed totally out of place.

  “Dad,” Sarah said quietly, “I have asked these questions. You won’t talk to me.”

  He softened his tone a little as he turned to her, crossing his arms once again. “Some things are better left alone, Sarah. Your mother’s death is one of them.”

  “Is my mother alive?”

  That simple little question stopped him cold, his eyes popping, his mouth open with no sound coming out. With shaking hands he pushed his fingers through his hair. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Dad we aren’t trying to upset you. Just, please answer me. Darcy thinks that my mother might still be alive.”

  “Oh. Darcy thinks. I see. Well, Darcy needs to leave our family alone and not poke into things that are none of her business.”

  “I asked her to do this,” Sarah started to explain.

  “I don’t care!” Louis shouted. “I said leave it alone!”

  Sarah got up in a hurry from the couch and rushed out of the room. Darcy stared at Louis, not sure what to do. “I think maybe I should leave. I didn’t mean to upset you Louis. Please…tell Sarah I’ll talk to her later.”

  As she headed for the door Louis grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. His fingers dug into her when she tried to pull away from him.

  “I can’t let you leave until you promise to drop this,” he said desperately. “You have to stop digging. You have to promise me you will stop.”

  Darcy tried to keep herself calm. “Why? Why, Louis? What are you afraid I’ll find?”

  He dropped her arm, realization of what he was doing written on his face, and then stepped away from her. “Nothing. There’s nothing to find, and you need to keep it that way. Now, please. Get out.”

  Darcy found her way to the door and left as quickly as she could, more convinced than ever that in spite of what Louis said, there was a lot more going on here than anyone knew.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning Darcy cycled into town. She was thrilled that Jon had done this for her. There was a certain freedom in feeling the breeze in her hair as she rode and of being able to go wherever she wanted more quickly than just walking.

  She was there before she knew it and took mental note to not leave home so early any more. She wouldn’t need the thirty minutes to walk to work anymore.

  She jumped off the bike at the beginning of Main Street. Her plan was to walk around town for a while, maybe clear her head and figure out another direction to come at this mystery from. She saw tendrils of mist in the shadows, being burned off by the rising sun, and did her best to ignore them.

  In the town square everyone was working hard to finish setting up for the harvest festival. She walked her bicycle around, looking at everyone’s booths, at the decorations, at the people rushing back and forth. Darcy saw Henrietta walking and waved to her. The elderly lady waved back and then steadied herself with her cane. Again, Darcy tried to guess the woman’s age. Old, was the best she could come up with, chuckling to herself.

  When she passed by Helen’s stand she stopped to say hi. “Hello, Helen. Almost ready for the festival?”

  Helen propped a hand on her hip and wiped her brow with her other hand. Her old button-up shirt and jeans were dusty and there were dark grass stains on the knees. “Getting there Darcy, getting there. Oh my you have a bicycle. How wonderful. When did you get that?”

  “Friday,” Darcy answered with a smile. “It was an early birthday present from Jon.”

  A middle aged woman came up behind Helen, waiting to be noticed. “Oh,” Helen said finally. “Darcy, this is Elizabeth Archer my new baker. She’s a damn fine one
too. She’s been a lifesaver for me, with all of my work as mayor now.”

  Darcy held out her hand for Elizabeth to shake and noticed that the woman had several scars on the left side of her face. Long, auburn hair hid most of them, but they looked a lot like burn scars to Darcy.

  Darcy’s mind jumped to conclusions. Here she was, trying to decipher a mystery of a burning house and a missing woman, and a new woman shows up in town at the same time, with burn marks on her skin. The face looked different, but people could change their appearance, especially if plastic surgery had been needed to remodel burned skin. And hair color was easily dyed.

  Could it be?

  “Where are you from Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, trying to rein in her suspicions and act natural.

  “Around.” Was all she said. She stared at Darcy with hard eyes and then turned on her heel and walked away.

  “I’m sorry about that, Darcy,” Helen said. “Elizabeth is a very private woman. She hasn’t even really opened up to me. But she can bake like nobody’s business. Here. Try one of Elizabeth’s muffins. It’s a new recipe.”

  Sliding her eyes away from Elizabeth she took the proffered muffin lying on a brown paper napkin. “Thanks Helen. Lily isn’t working for you anymore?”

  “Oh, no. After all that business with her brother, and him trying to kill her, she had a bit of a breakdown. Poor girl. She’s having a ‘holiday’ for an unspecified period of time.”

  Helen put air quotes around the holiday part and Darcy knew that the poor girl was probably under a psychiatrist’s care somewhere. She couldn’t blame her after what had happened.

  Darcy took a bite of the muffin. It was wonderful. “Oh my gosh this is delicious.”

  “I told you they were good.” Helen grinned at her.

  Darcy chatted a little longer as she finished the muffin. Then she said her goodbyes and hopped back on her bike. The town was beautiful this early in the morning, adorned with the colored leaves of Fall. The mists that lingered were the only thing that dampened the scenery but she could ignore them.

 

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