Darcy Sweet Mystery Box 1

by K. J. Emrick

  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 8

  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 hav
e 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 moment, 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.”

  His understanding made Darcy feel all warm and happy. She smiled at him and said, “Remember how I told you before about how Millie wrote about her abilities, that they were the same as mine?” He nodded. “Well, I remember reading in the journal something about a way to meditate before a communication to enhance the connection. I’m going to go and get the journal, it’s back at the bookstore. The Santa suit, too.”

  His face twisted when she said it. “Do we have to?”

  “I know you don’t want to be anywhere near it. Neither do I, but I think we’ll need it.”

  “Fine. But I’m going with you,” Jon said. “It will be quicker if I drive and I don’t really want you wandering around on your own this late at night with that crazy violent ghost out there somewhere.”

  Darcy felt a warm feeling spread through her at his concern. It was nice to know his love was there for her.

  As soon as they arrived at the bookstore Darcy went to get the journal. As she reached for it the book flew across the room at Jon. With lightning fast reflexes he reached up and caught it before it could smack the side of his head.

  “Millie!” Darcy yelled at her aunt. She wasn’t sure if Millie was just making trouble, playing pranks like she always did, or if she was trying to tell them something. “Are you trying to warn me about something, Millie?”

  The book wrenched out of Jon’s hands and flew back across the room towards her, falling softly into her hands. “Thanks. That was very informative.” She rolled her eyes and opened the journal to the page she needed. Refreshing her memory, she nodded firmly. “Yes. This, and the suit. You want to grab that?”

  “No. I will, because I love you, but I don’t want to.”

  She smiled at him. “Just be sure to break the circle with your toe first.”

  He eyed her skeptically, but she watched him as he did exactly as she had instructed. In the meantime, she got the candles out that she kept in the shop. Never know where you might need to use them, she always figured.

  With the journal firmly in her hands and Jon carrying the paper sack with the suit in it, they left the bookstore and went back to the pageant stage. Darcy wasn’t too keen on being around here this late at night, especially after what had happened earlier.

  “Why here?” Jon asked her. He checked his watch, finding out exactly what Darcy had already known. It was after midnight. Everyone had gone home. Everyone, that was, except for them.

  “This is where the event happened. If there is any connection between our world and a ghost living in this Santa suit, it will be strongest here.”

  “Do you ever keep track of the number of times during the day you say things like that with a straight face?”

  She shrugged, taking the package with the suit from him. “It’s who I am. I’ve gotten used to it.”

  He watched her silently. She desperately wanted to ask him what was going through his mind, but this wasn’t the time or place.

  The area was completely deserted as Darcy had known it would be. Yellow barrier tape surrounded the stage until the town’s work crew could come out tomorrow and remove the broken staging. By mutual consent, they set up right in front of the stage.

  Darcy set the candles, lit them, and set the Santa suit on the ground in front of her. She realized that she was very tense and tried to relax and breathe deeply. If she was honest with herself she could admit that she was a little apprehensive about doing this particular communication. Roger had scared her during the couple of times she had communicated with him previously.

  This time, when she sat cross-legged, it was to study her aunt’s journal for a minute or so until she was sure she had the basics of the technique down.

  “Thank you, Millie,” she whispered. She looked at Jon and said, “I need total silence to do this, okay?” He nodded but didn’t speak. She could see he was tense and she guessed he was worried about her doing this. She wouldn’t be doing it if it wasn’t very necessary. Then she began.

  The flames from the candles spread a soft, flickering light where there was only darkness otherwise. In her mind, she recited the words from her aunt’s journal.

  “To be better protected from, and better connected to, the other side, you must have a very firm grip on your own life. You must be certain your life is in order, before you can attempt to order around the stronger spirits that you may encounter.”

  Which made sense. She thought about her life now. She and Jon had been fighting, and headed down a road to breaking up. They were back together now, stronger in many ways than they had been. He was accepting of her. She had that in her life, and she could build on that foundation to become stronger.

  She was stronger.

  She took hold of the Santa suit and called out for Roger August. For a few moments nothing happened, just like before. Something was blocking her. It was Roger himself, she realized. His spirit was trying to keep her from seeing what she needed to see. With a force of will, she pushed that barrier aside, and made the connection. She was inside Roger’s memory.

  She saw him, Roger, in the Santa suit waiting behind a stage and she realized that this must be that long ago pageant. The one twenty years ago just before he died. The image faded in and out between scenes of him talking to kids and then walking off stage when the pageant was done and then suddenly Darcy heard a grunt of pain. She saw Roger limping away from the stage. He was injured, somehow, but still alive. The viewpoint shifted and she saw one last thing before the images vanished. A man, standing in shadows behind Roger. There was no way to see his face. Yet, somehow he looked familiar.

  Darcy tried to push harder, to see more, but she felt the force against her multiplying. She was snapped forcefully back to reality, Jon holding her arms as her head lolled to the side.

  “Darcy, are you okay?” Jon asked. His voice was tight with worry.

  “Yes, I think so,” she said. The night was dark around them. The
candles were knocked over, their wicks trailing wisps of smoke. The Santa suit was on the ground a good distance from them in a heap as though it had been thrown aside.

  Jon pulled her into him and hugged her tight. “I couldn’t wake you,” he said as he pulled back to look at her. “The wind was so strong.” He hugged her to him once again.

  “Wind?” She remembered something then, something of a cold arctic blast that pushed her around while she was trying to hold onto the connection of the communication. Roger August. Or was it something else?

  Darcy’s mind was still on the image that she had seen. And then it came to her. She realized who the man was. She pulled back out of Jon’s arms a little so she could see him. “I think that Mister Baskin killed Roger.”

  Chapter 9

  “When you weren’t responding to me, back there in the town square, there was an icy wind blasting around us.” Jon’s eyebrows were drawn down in a frown of worry. They were sitting in Darcy’s kitchen, huddled around cups of hot chocolate. Darcy just couldn’t seem to get warm. “Why was this one so violent?”

  “One of the entities involved in this is trying to keep me from seeing into things. They’re exerting a force working against me.”

  “One of the entities?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

  “Right. At first, I thought it was Roger himself. Now, we have to consider the possibility that the suit really is haunted in some way by something. So that’s why I say, one of the entities.”

  “Could it be something else entirely?” Jon asked her.

  Darcy appreciated the way he was making an effort to understand this part of her. With a smile she couldn’t quite suppress she leaned across the table to kiss his cheek. “I’ll know more when we talk to Roland Baskin.”