Death Takes a Letter

by K. J. Emrick

The shopkeeper’s bell over the front door rang, surprising them both.

  “I guess,” Darcy said, “that we have one more customer before we can close.”

  They both went out into the main area, where they found Damita Marino waiting for them. Darcy was surprised to see her here. After all, they’d just had the book club meeting yesterday. She smiled at them now, from a weathered face that was using a little too much makeup to try to hide the wrinkles and age spots. She clutched a large flower purse in front of her with both hands. Her favorite red broach had been transferred to a knitted red sweater which hung from her frail shoulders over an ankle-length purple dress that was several decades out of style.

  Then again, so were most of the book club members. It didn’t bother any of them.

  “Hello, Darcy. Hello there, Izzy,” she greeted them. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

  “The store’s pretty empty right now,” Darcy said. “Besides, we’re never too busy for you. Can we help you find a book?”

  The smile on Damita’s face was frozen in place. “Not today, thank you. I still have that wonderful novel you handed us at the meeting yesterday and I’m only just a few pages in. I’m having trouble getting into it, I’m afraid. Some books are like that for me. I wanted to be here earlier, actually, but I was with my sister. Poor dear, she just broke up with her husband.”

  “Her husband?” Izzy couldn’t help herself from asking. “How old is your sister?”

  Damita didn’t seem at all offended by the question. “Sixty-eight, and still has the body of a woman half her age. Had a husband half her age too, until last week. I tried to tell her that wouldn’t work out, but she never did listen to me. Well. That’s not what I came to talk about and I’m sure you’d rather not hear about the romantic misadventures of my family. The good Lord knows that I’d rather not hear about it either, but I’m her sister and I have no choice, really.”

  Darcy waited patiently as the woman meandered from one topic to the next. She liked Damita, but there was always the possibility that she would start telling you one story and end up telling a different one entirely by the time you were done. On any other day, she would find that quality quaint and amusing. Today she just didn’t have the time.

  “I’m sorry, Damita,” she said, “but Izzy and I were just about to close up the shop. Was there something you needed?”

  “Oh my, yes,” the older woman chuckled. “I did it again, didn’t I? Sort of wandered off the topic. I do that so often that my sister says I should come with blinders to keep me on task. Oh, my. Well. I wanted to talk to you about Erika. In private, that is. Something like this is so sensitive.”

  Izzy and Darcy exchanged a look. Leave it to the members of the Sweet Read Book Club to know all the best gossip.

  “We all liked her so much,” Damita went on. “Erika, I mean. Did I say that? Yes. I’m sure I did. Everybody loved Erika. The one we didn’t like was that man she was engaged to. That Leighton Reeves. Such a player. Is that the word? My, I’m afraid I’m not quite up on the terms the kids use nowadays.”

  Now that was interesting. “A player? You mean he was dating more women than just Erika?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. He was stringing several women along at the same time.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Now Damita’s smile crinkled the lines around her eyes. “Because he was dating me as well as her, and I knew a couple of other women he spent quality time with as well. Four or five, at least.”

  Darcy blinked at that. “He was dating you, too? At the same time that he was dating Erika Becht?”

  “Oh, don’t look so surprised, dearie.” Damita lifted her chin proudly. “I used to be young and beautiful like you two ladies. Once upon a time, that is.”

  This was amazing, Darcy thought to herself. This was exactly the information she needed, but with Damita jumping around her story like she was, this wasn’t going to be a quick conversation. Jon would have to wait. Roland Baskin would have to wait as well. Even finding Leighton Reeves would have to wait. Here Darcy had been wondering how she would ever find information on a decades old mystery, and a huge source of information had just walked right through the front door in the shape of a tiny, elderly woman.

  “Damita, why don’t we all sit down?” Darcy suggested. “We’ll make some fresh coffee and we can talk.”

  “Oh, I’d rather have a cup of tea, if it isn’t too much trouble.” She started right for one of the tables, obviously thrilled to have a story to pass on, and an audience to tell it to.

  When she had a hot cup of lemon zinger tea in front of her, Damita settled her purse on the floor and leaned forward in her chair. “Ah, that will hit the spot. Now. What can I tell you about my good friend Erika Becht and our dear Leighton Reeves?”

  “Let’s start with some of the things you and the others have already told us,” Darcy said. “Erika was engaged to Leighton?”

  “So she told everyone,” Damita said with a conspiratorial nod. Even after all these years, this was still hot gossip for those who, like Damita and Cora and Evelyn, had been there to see it all happening. “She was proud to tell everyone about Leighton asking her to marry him before going off on this big trip of his out west. Where was it that he went? California… no, Arizona, I believe. Have you ever been out there to that part of the country? Oh my, it’s just all sand and rock and crawling things. Snakes everywhere. I nearly stepped on one when my husband and I took a trip out to the Grand Canyon. Nasty things. No, I never have liked snakes.”

  Darcy was trying to filter the information that was relevant to Erika Becht from all the tidbits from Damita’s life story. Darcy wished she had something to write all this down. “When did Erika start telling people she was engaged? It couldn’t have been very long before she died, right?”

  “That’s right.” Damita tapped her hand against the table. “You always were a smart one, Darcy Sweet. She told us they were engaged just a few days before Leighton left to go out west. I remember because after we heard Erika had died, I went to look for him. I figured he’d want to know that one of his girlfriends had died so unexpectedly. He was already gone. He’d left that same day. It was all the dating other women, you see. It was too much for them. They were arguing over him dating Rosie Weaver, in fact, the day he left.”

  Darcy knew that from the letter but she wasn’t going to interrupt Damita now. She was enjoying this far too much. The expression on her face shifted emotions with every new revelation. Hearing the story firsthand from someone who had been there definitely put things in a much clearer perspective. The argument between Erika and Leighton had happened on the day he left… and then she’d died.

  What if…

  Could it be that Erika had lied to everyone when she said Leighton had asked her to marry him? Did he become angry over that—or something else—and kill her, leaving the state because of what he’d done, then writing a hasty letter back to Erika to make it seem like he thought she was still alive…

  Yes. That was entirely possible.

  Now, more than ever, she knew she had to talk to Leighton Reeves. With every new piece of information she learned, it began to look more and more like he might actually be a murderer.

  “So,” Damita said to them, sipping at her tea. “What else is there to say?”

  That was the real question. Darcy wondered if she could find the answer to that without somehow going back in time.

  Or talking to Erika’s ghost again, either. Because if Erika wouldn’t come to her—flames or not—then the spirit communication would be her only other option.

  If this really had been murder, then Darcy might not have the option to wait until after she gave birth to find the answers.

  * * *

  The Misty Hollow Police Department was one of the oldest buildings in town, outside of some private homes. Now that the Town Hall had burned down and been replaced, and Helen’s bakery had burned down, the police station and the library we
re the only two remaining structures on Main Street that were still more or less their original selves.

  Come to think of it, Darcy realized, there were an awful lot of fires in this town. A few of them hadn’t even been her fault.

  The police station was just one story high with glass front doors that opened into the lobby where officers could talk to people through a plexiglass window. A locked door to the right of the service counter led from the lobby into the main area of the station where the officers and the detectives did their work. There was a back door that could only be accessed by the officers, too, but Darcy never used that entrance… unless she was trying to sneak in without being noticed.

  She smiled to herself as she tapped the little metal bell at the service counter. Ah, memories.

  The officer who came to the window was Kara Larabee. She was one of the newest hires at the office with just a few years working here. One of just three female officers, too. Her hair was in a tight braid that went down to the collar of her blue uniform. She was just that much over five feet tall but what she lacked in height she made up for by working just as hard—or harder—than some of the guys who’d been here for years.

  Her severe police expression was erased by a smile when she saw Darcy. “Hey there! How’s our favorite expectant mother?”

  “I’m good. Thanks for asking. Well, my feet hurt a little. And my back.”

  Kara snorted a laugh. “Guess I know what I can look forward to when it’s my turn to get pregnant.”

  “Oh?” That caught Darcy by surprise. “Are you and Shane talking about starting a family?”

  “Heh. I have to convince the man to take me out to dinner most of the time. Starting a family with him…” She fiddled with a pen on her side of the counter. “That’s a long ways off.”

  Shane Wagner was a wonderful man, a great officer here at the Misty Hollow Police Department, and a friend of Darcy’s. She knew Kara was right, though. If those two were ever going to get married and take those next steps, then it might just have to be Kara who took the lead.

  “Anyway,” Kara said, “enough about me. Have you picked out names for the baby yet?”

  “Er, no. I mean, I’ve been kicking around some names but I don’t have anything definite. We don’t even know the gender yet. The doctor’s appointment is next week for that. Jon and I are very excited.”

  “You should be.” Kara reached under the counter to where Darcy knew the button was that would unlock the door to let her inside the office. “You here to see Jon?”

  “Actually,” Darcy admitted, “I was hoping to find Sean Fitzwallis here. He’s always working the desk here at the office.”

  “You’re telling me. I wouldn’t be working the desk today if he was here. He called in this morning and said he couldn’t make it. I’ve never known him to take a day off in his life. Must be a pretty good reason.”

  “Yes, there must be.” Darcy had to wonder about the timing of Sean’s day off. It just happened to coincide with the same day she came to ask him questions about Erika Becht’s death? A death that Aunt Millie had warned Darcy not to look into. That was a pretty big coincidence. Of course, there couldn’t be any way for Sean to know Darcy would be coming in today.

  Could there?

  “I’ll let Jon know you’re here,” Kara told her. Then she pushed the release button and a buzzing sound told Darcy that the door was open. “Come on in.”

  There were a few officers working at the desks inside, but Darcy didn’t see Grace anywhere. Jon must have her out working on their missing teenager case. Kara waved to her from the dispatch desk, where the phone had already started to ring. She didn’t bother walking Darcy down the hall to Jon’s office. There was no need. Darcy had been to the station any number of times, and everyone here trusted her.

  Jon told her to come in as soon as she knocked. His office was done in dark wood paneling that Jon had tried to brighten up with posters and a potted fern that he was having trouble keeping alive. A bookshelf full of law books and folders and reference material made up the wall on one side. His desk took up the middle of the floor space, with two padded leather chairs on this side for people who came to see the town’s police chief.

  Darcy took a seat in one of the chairs and waited while Jon finished doing something on the computer at his desk. Watching him working had always been one of life’s little pleasures for her. He was such a good man, and his dedication to helping the people of Misty Hollow was never in doubt.

  He just looked so tired.

  “Stop that,” he told her, not looking away from the screen.

  She gave him a sweet smile. “Stop what?”

  “You’re fitting me for a pair of angel’s wings in your mind again.” He shook his head and typed something on the keyboard rapid-quick. “I’m no angel.”

  “I’ve seen you be an angel,” she teased. “I’ve seen you be a bad boy, too.”

  “Well, today,” he said, with a last flourish of keystrokes like a maestro at his piano, “I am a very good boy. I found Leighton Reeves.”

  He stared at her with a smile in his eyes, obviously proud of himself.

  Darcy shifted her position in the chair to sit up more, working around her belly and feeling for all the world like she was carrying a bowling ball on top of her bladder. “You found him? That’s amazing, Jon. Oh, I so want to kiss you. With lavender lipstick no less!”

  “Ha, ha. Very funny. You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

  “Not until you tell me the story of this mysterious girl you used to date. So where is Leighton?”

  “Still in Arizona. He’s lived his life out there. Never came back to our little New England town.”

  Darcy’s mind added that into the other things that she’d learned. “Do you think he stayed away because of Erika Becht’s death? Do you think maybe he did kill her and he knew coming back here would be risky for him?”

  Jon spread his hands. “It’s possible. It’s also possible that the drier air out there was better for his health. The man is in his late eighties. He doesn’t sound it, but he’s old enough to be my grandfather. Dry air is supposed to be good for people that old, right?”

  “Wait, you talked to him?” Darcy was ready to kiss Jon all over that beautiful face of his. “You did all this in the four hours I’ve been at the bookstore?”

  “Sure I did. What do you think we do around here?” He winked at her. “There’s a two hour time difference between here and Arizona. He was just waking up when I talked to him. He’s retired and he’s got lots of time on his hands, he says. Got a little sad when I mentioned Erika Becht. At least, he sounded like he was sad. Hard to tell for sure over a phone call. That’s why I invited him out here to talk to us.”

  He let that hang there, enjoying the expression on her face. She couldn’t believe that he’d managed to do all of this. Track down a man who left town decades earlier, catch him on the phone, ask him to come here…

  “What did he say?” she finally asked when it was obvious he was going to leave her hanging until she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Is he really going to fly all this way just to talk to us about Erika Becht?”

  “Uh, no.” He chuckled as he saw her hopes deflate. “He basically gave me a brushoff with a hundred different excuses for why he can’t possibly come visit us now. I didn’t figure he’d say yes, to tell you the truth. I’ve got no way of forcing him, either.”

  Darcy couldn’t repress a sigh. “Yeah, I guess that was too much to hope for. Still, you found him, and that’s amazing. I’ll just have to tell Linda that we don’t know what happened to her mother yet.” Of course, her mother’s ghost showing up to burst into flames hadn’t really helped, either. Why could ghosts never just give a straight answer? “And besides, you’ve got other things on your plate right now. How’s the investigation of the missing girl going?”

  “Slow,” he said, reaching over to tap one manila file that was laying separate from the other folders waiting for his
attention. “Grace is out tracking down a lead now but neither of us think it will amount to anything. We’re missing something.”

  Darcy nodded, knowing how frustrating that could be. She was missing something in the mystery of Erika Becht, too. Her eyes drifted down to the folder he’d pointed to. It always looked so easy when things were packaged up into a neat file.

  “So,” he asked her, “have you learned anything else about Linda’s mother?”

  “Um, sort of.” She gave him the short version of what Damita had told her this morning. As she did, her gaze kept drifting back to the folder on the missing child case. The tab had information neatly typed on it, like the case number and things like that. “So that’s all we know so far. I guess it’s more than we knew yesterday. Izzy’s going to talk to Roland Baskin for us, and see if he’ll tell us anything about his sister.”

  “Uh, well,” he hedged, scratching at that scar on his forehead. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. Roland isn’t in the best of health, you know.”

  “I know,” she said, still staring at the folder tab. The date, the case number…

  “And,” Jon went on, “Roland really doesn’t like us. Any time you or I or anybody from this department asks him what time of day it is I have to listen to him complain about it for two weeks. I don’t want to be responsible for increasing his stress levels and sending him to an early grave.”

  “Jon, we can’t just ignore a lead because Roland Baskin hates the world, um.”

  Her voice trailed off to silence. Next to the case number on the folder tab was the name of the missing person.

  Tinker, the tab read. Allison Tinker.

  “Jon?”

  He knew immediately what she had just seen. To his credit, he didn’t try to snatch the folder away, and he didn’t try to lie to her. He just sighed out a breath, and shrugged. “I know. I didn’t tell you.”

  “Well I’m glad we can both agree on the obvious,” Darcy said, the sarcasm in her voice unintentional, and unavoidable. “Jon Tinker, why would you keep this from me?”

  He gestured helplessly with his hands. He’d been her husband long enough now that he knew when she was upset with him, and he knew when there was nothing he could do about it but tell her the truth. “I didn’t want you to stress. It’s not good for the baby.”