Resorting to Murder Read online

  COPYRIGHT

  First published in Australia by South Coast Publishing, August 2014.

  Copyright K.J. Emrick (2014)

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and locations portrayed in this book and the names herein are fictitious. Any similarity to or identification with the locations, names, characters or history of any person, product or entity is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

  - From a Declaration of Principles jointly adopted by a Committee of the American Bar Association and a Committee of Publishers and Associations.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  No responsibility or liability is assumed by the Publisher for any injury, damage or financial loss sustained to persons or property from the use of this information, personal or otherwise, either directly or indirectly. While every effort has been made to ensure reliability and accuracy of the information within, all liability, negligence or otherwise, from any use, misuse or abuse of the operation of any methods, strategies, instructions or ideas contained in the material herein, is the sole responsibility of the reader. Any copyrights not held by publisher are owned by their respective authors.

  All information is generalized, presented for informational purposes only and presented "as is" without warranty or guarantee of any kind.

  All trademarks and brands referred to in this book are for illustrative purposes only, are the property of their respective owners and not affiliated with this publication in any way. Any trademarks are being used without permission, and the publication of the trademark is not authorized by, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  Chapter One

  "You're the most beautiful girl I know, Darcy Sweet."

  Darcy looked into Jon Tinker's clear blue eyes and smiled at the compliment. It was nice to have his undivided attention being lavished on her, even if she suspected he had a hidden motive behind that roguish smile. The smile that tugged up one side of his mouth and transformed him from handsome to dangerously gorgeous…

  Fine. She could admit that Jon was incredibly attractive. She could even admit that the thought of three days alone with him in this cabin in the mountains made her heart do backflips. That did not mean she'd forgiven him. Yet.

  "You're only telling me I'm beautiful because you know you're in trouble," she told him, using her fork to cut into the pan-seared fish on her plate. Dinner, a cozy table in a quietly romantic room, candlelight. The night held just the kind of promise they had been hoping for when they decided to take this trip.

  "But you are beautiful." Jon shrugged one shoulder, keeping his expression carefully smooth as he suppressed a smile. "I know I have a lot to make up for."

  Darcy caught a strand of her long dark hair and twisted it around her finger. Jon was sitting very close to her, and the way the candlelight played over his white dress shirt, his muscular arms and broad chest, was definitely a distraction. They had dressed up for dinner even though it was only the two of them. Him in that shirt with its wide neck and a pair of black slacks, her in a slim blue dress that she had bought especially for this trip. It was fun. Like playing dress up. Like they were on a first date.

  Locking her gaze to his again she felt heat spread through her body. A rush of emotion flowed through her like water coursing through an uncontrollable river. She was tempted to forgive everything her on-again, off-again—and now on-again—boyfriend had put her through.

  The thing was, she was enjoying this too much to just give in and forgive him. Jon was working hard to set things right between them and it would be a shame to waste that kind of effort. Like cooking this dinner himself on the little stove in their cabin. Like getting down on one knee, not to propose, but to ask her if he could move back in to their house. He was twisting himself around in knots to make her happy.

  So let him work a little harder, she thought with a smile.

  "Yes," she said to him, trying to sound angry. It came out more like bemused. "You have a lot to make up for. Let's start with how you left me for a job in another town."

  "Oh," he said slowly, raising his eyebrows. "I meant I had to make up for how bad this dinner turned out."

  "Jon. You know that's not what I meant."

  He held up a forkful of the parmesan crusted salmon. "Really? Have you seen this fish?" He laughed, unable to keep it in anymore, and she couldn't help laughing with him.

  In that one moment, everything became all right with the world again.

  For months now something had been missing from Darcy's life. Jon had gone through a crisis, a time in his life when it seemed everything was going wrong, and he had tried to make it better by distancing himself. From her, from the town of Misty Hollow that had become his home, from everything. He'd moved out of their house. He'd taken a job in a town over an hour away from her. For a while, Darcy had even been convinced that things were over between them. A hole had opened in her heart that would not close.

  Now he was back, and they were working hard to find their way back to what they'd had before. Darcy was happier now with Jon than she'd been in a very long time. That was something worth fighting for.

  This mini vacation in the mountains had been all Jon's idea as well. Trips like this had worked wonders for their relationship before, in this picturesque little town far away from Misty Hollow, and they had pinned a lot of expectations on this trip now. Things were going great from where Darcy sat, and it was only Friday night. They still had the whole weekend.

  Bear Ridge was actually a ski resort town. A few miles below where their cabin was tucked in near the ski runs were the clusters of houses and shops where the year round residents lived. This time of year, as summer was coming to an end, the lines of the ski trails made barren paths through the towering evergreen trees. Summer was the off season and the town was quiet and sleepy amid rolling hills and an incredible views.

  Darcy had seen the most amazing panoramic vista on their way up to the cabin, where the road hugged the low rise of the mountain and one side dropped away to a hollow far below. Blue skies had already been fading to purples and reds by the time they arrived. What was the old saying? Red sky at night, sailors delight.

  Darcy was no sailor, but she hoped that the gorgeous sunset they had watched through the cabin window, nuzzled close together in bed before dinner, meant good things for her and Jon as well.

  She held his gaze, smiling a wry little smile. "You know there's nothing wrong with this dinner. You're an amazing cook. Are you telling me, Detective Tinker, that you don't have anything to apologize for? Something, maybe, to do with your girlfriend?"

  Moving a glass globe that held a short, squat candle out of his way, Jon leaned in closer to her. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, see every thought in those beautiful eyes of his. The pull of gravity held them both.

  "Darcy," he whispered, "I can never make up for what happened. For leaving you like I did. I will try, every day and every night, for the rest of my life. When I think I've tried hard enough, I'll work harder."

  She sighed between parted lips. "That's a good start."

  The tension between them seemed to stretch for an eternity until his lips were finally brushing against hers and it was like falling into him for the very first time. A rush of time and space swept her up into his arms. She didn't remember standing up, or his arms wrapping around her, or when the fireworks had started in her mind, but suddenly she was breaking the kiss to pull in a needed breath and rest her head into the hollow of his shoulder.

 
; "Yes," she said when she could speak again. "That's a very good start."

  "You know I love you, right?" he asked her.

  "I know you love me, and I know I love you. Just don't ever doubt it again, okay? I might have to hunt you down and fill your shoes with cement."

  "And spray paint my tires pink?" he asked.

  "Mm-hmm. And cut holes in the ends of all your socks." She realized he was swaying them both side to side, small steps leading them in a lazy circle. "Jon, what are you doing?"

  "Dancing."

  She laughed at him. "There's no music."

  "I know, sweet baby. I still want to dance with you."

  Sweet baby. That had been his pet nickname for her, once upon a time before stress had overwhelmed him and made him lose himself. Her heart skipped to hear it again. Her hands felt up his back, up to the nape of his neck where her fingernails could play with his skin. He was nearly a foot taller than her in her stocking feet, moving in time to the rhythm of their hearts.

  When he started humming, she didn't recognize the tune. She didn't care. They were back together again.

  His hand slid to the small of her back, to that spot that he knew so well, and her hands were suddenly twining into his dark hair and pulling his head down to hers and their kiss reignited, promising to burn as hot as any kiss in history.

  A knock on the cabin door caught them both off guard. They stumbled and Darcy nearly fell.

  Jon caught her around her waist. She giggled and got her feet under her again. "Guess I'm just clumsy in anything but blue jeans."

  Whoever was outside knocked again, and Jon sighed. "Privacy. The brochure promised privacy."

  Darcy pushed herself up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "We have time. We can be as private as we want. Later."

  The look of disappointment in his eyes was impossible to miss. She laughed at him and playfully ran her fingers down his arm. This weekend was going to be perfect.

  With a shrug, Jon unwrapped himself from her and went to the door. The cabins of the Lonely Cub resort were all pretty much the same. A single room held a good sized double bed with a four poster canopy. The stout wooden frame was carved with cartoonish bear faces across the headboard and bears climbing up the posts. A pinewood dresser held a flatscreen television that Darcy didn't expect would get a lot of use this weekend. A white gas stove sat in the corner, a microwave next to it. A separate bathroom held a spa tub and stand up shower and a small sink. The cabin was small, and cozy, and isolated. The single window set into the wall faced a view of the mountain. The curtain was drawn now. Privacy, like Jon had said.

  They were a long way from Misty Hollow. No one should even know they were here. Darcy had no idea who would be knocking on their door.

  While Jon went to the door she decided to sit back at the table and eat a little more. He really was a good cook and the salmon was perfect. He could joke all he wanted, she was just glad that he was the one who did the cooking. Some days she couldn't boil water.

  From where she sat, chewing a bite of pasta in white sauce, Darcy faced the door. Jon put an eye to the little security peephole first, ever the good police officer, and then stepped back to open for the person standing there.

  She was tall, and slim, with the rugged grace that athletic women often possessed. Those were the first things Darcy noticed. In her green hoodie and blue jeans with the rips at the knees she stood nearly as tall as Jon did. She had a very expressive face under tight blonde curls. Her hands were fisted into the pockets of her sweater as she smiled and nodded.

  "Can we help you?" Jon asked.

  "I really, really hope so," the woman said. "I need pizza."

  Darcy wasn't sure if she'd heard that right. Her food went down hard as she swallowed it back, trying to ask the question that Jon got out first. "Did you expect to find a pizza party in our cabin?"

  "Oh," the woman said, shifting her balance and looking embarrassed. "No. Sorry, I have a bad habit of starting at the end of a story and working backward… Uh. Let me start over. Hi, I'm JoEllen Meyers. I'm renting the cabin just next door."

  She took her hands out to point as if it was very important to show Jon and Darcy where she meant. Jon didn't say anything. Darcy didn't, either. The moment hung and JoEllen's hands drifted back to her pockets. "I guess that doesn't really explain it, either. See, my phone is out and I wanted to order some dinner but I can't without a phone. Can I borrow yours?"

  Everyone laughed when she finally got to the point and explained what she needed. It must be exhausting, Darcy thought, to live inside a brain like that, if this was the way she always talked to people.

  "Sure, you can use our phone," Jon said to JoEllen, stepping aside to let her in. "Do you know a good pizza place in town? We're from out of the area and I doubt Darcy is going to want to eat my cooking the whole weekend."

  "Jon, stop it," Darcy scolded with a playful smile. She stood up, and extended her hand to JoEllen. "Hi. I'm Darcy Sweet. This humble man is Jon Tinker. Guess we'll be neighbors for the weekend."

  "Hey Darcy, nice to meet you," JoEllen answered cheerfully, and took Darcy's hand to shake.

  Liquid electricity poured up Darcy's skin from where JoEllen took her hand. For a moment the whole world stopped. When it started again, Darcy wasn't in their cabin anymore.

  She was surrounded by trees. The forest stretched as far as she could see, pine trees standing like eerie sentinels, blocking out the morning sun. Darcy wasn't sure how she knew it was morning. She just did.

  Out of breath, sweaty and exhausted, she looked all around, trying to get her bearings. She was running. She had to get there in time. She had to! The cabins were up that way…weren't they?

  It wasn't like she'd been given a lot of time to gather supplies. She'd had to move quickly or…

  Or, what? Darcy couldn't catch the thought as she started rushing through the woods again. Something was making her run. She didn't have time to think about it. She only had time to move, and move quickly.

  The world shifted around her and she was in another part of the forest where the trees were different but the same, towering behemoths with spreading branches watching her every move but offering no help. Darcy turned left, then right, before she spotted the sign.

  "Danger. Trail closed due to slides," it read, in letters carved into thick wood and then painted yellow. Only the paint had worn off some of the letters in the last word unevenly so that it actually read, "Danger. Trail closed due to lies."

  Darcy ignored the sign's warning, pushing forward through the trees until she found what she wanted not ten feet away in a wide, cleared space. It was one of the ski runs. Now, in the summer, it was exposed dirt and rock, providing a path up to the face of Mount Borealis, or back down to the ski resort. Darcy sighed out a heavy breath and started down at a jog. Maybe she'd get there in time after all.

  What was she looking for?

  The scene had shifted again. Suddenly, through the filtered sunlight from the branches above, rain was dropping. Big, fat drops that collected in puddles on the ground around her. Darcy was on her knees, sobbing. She didn't understand why she was crying but the sadness gripping her heart nearly crippled her. The ground had been dug up here and there was something sticking up out of the dark, moist earth. The soil turned to mud as she watched one of her hands reaching out toward…

  A hand. His hand. The hand of the man she loved, buried at her feet.

  No. Darcy tried to make herself stand up, make herself shout, scream for help, something. She had no control of her body. The vision held her fast. She could only watch as she fell over onto her side in the mud, crying harder.

  Only, it wasn't her. She realized with a jolt that the reflection looking back at her in the puddle of rainwater wasn't her own. Distorted though it was, she recognized the face that stared back at her, framed in tight blonde curls plastered to her skin by the rain.

  It was JoEllen's.

  The vision left her in the space between heartbeats and
she stumbled back from JoEllen. Thankfully the woman was already turning away, over to where the phone sat next to the television. She thanked Jon as she dialed a number and then held the handset up to her ear.

  Making sure JoEllen didn't see him do it, Jon turned to Darcy with a concerned expression. He'd seen her reaction to the touch of JoEllen's hand and he would know what it meant. Darcy had certain abilities that made her life, well, interesting. She was in tune with the other side, able to speak with the dead and know things that her normal five senses couldn't tell her. Most people who knew her suspected that Darcy was a little different. They just didn't know all the things she could do. Like touch a person and suddenly know details about their lives as if she had lived those events herself.

  When she had finally opened up completely about herself to Jon, she had worried that he would turn tail and run, breaking off a very promising budding romance. It had happened more than once to her, which was exactly why she didn't tell people about that side of her.

  He'd had a few issues with her abilities at the beginning but he’d also surprised her by asking questions instead of running, watching her perform a few communications instead of shutting her out. He'd even asked her to help investigate a few cases for the Misty Hollow police force. He wasn't afraid of her. He didn't think she was a freak. He had loved her the same even after he knew her secret. Possibly, a little more so.

  So when he looked at her now, she could tell he knew what had just happened. She'd had a vision. A vision of death.

  A vision of murder.

  Darcy shook her head, silently telling him to wait. She couldn't explain it to him now. Not while JoEllen was standing right here with them. He dipped his head, a slight nod that was almost impossible to see. He understood.

  They listened while JoEllen placed her order. "Yes. Just the one pizza this time. No, not two. One. I know. Buried in cheese. Payment on delivery. Yup. Same address as last time. 'Kay. I'll be waiting."