A Darcy Sweet Mystery Box Set Seven Page 3

  The jewelry box was there on the table where Darcy had put it while she got Colby situated on the couch and Zane snugged into his bed upstairs. She’d left it there on purpose because she wanted Jon to see it.

  His eyebrows rose appreciatively. “Whoa. That’s really nice. Is it real silver?”

  “Mm-hmm. It is. This used to be my mother’s jewelry box. She mailed it to me at the store today.”

  “Why, did she lose our home address?”

  “Jon,” Darcy said, gently warning him not to go there. “I know my mom hasn’t had a lot of contact with us recently, but it was nice of her to send this to me. It was one of those things that I identified with my childhood, you know? I didn’t think I was ever going to see it again and now here it is.”

  “I admit,” he relented, “it was nice of her. It really is beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m not sure of the whole story but supposedly, it was crafted by some famous metalworker a few hundred years ago.”

  “Huh. That’s interesting. No, I mean it. I like old handcrafted pieces like this. People back then really knew how to make things, you know?”

  “I agree. I was going to ask Great Aunt Millie about it later, to see if she’ll tell me anything about it.”

  “You can’t just ask your mother?”

  Darcy shrugged. “I don’t think she knows. I’m just about quoting her word for word when I say it was made by someone famous, ‘or whatever.’ It was just a pretty jewelry box that got passed down through the family, and I doubt she knew anything more than that.”

  He nodded, examining it more closely. “What about the name on the top? There’s an I, an L, and there’s an E… but I can’t make out anything else. Is that your mother’s name?”

  “Eileen. I think it is, yeah. It’s always been a little hard to read. Maybe we can pay someone to buff it out and put my name on it. Or Colby’s, even. I’ll pass it down to her when she’s old enough. Keep the tradition going.”

  “But if it got passed down through the family,” he mused, “then your mother’s name would have only been added recently, right?”

  Darcy considered that. “Well, yeah. Of course.”

  He pursed his mouth. “I don’t know. This looks older than that. I’m not sure that kind of wear can happen in one person’s lifetime. You can’t even read half the name.”

  “That’s true. Those letters look like they’re just as old as the rest of the box. Hmm. I guess I never really thought about it. You sure know your way around a jewelry box, Mister Tinker.”

  “And I’m secure enough in my manhood to admit it,” he said with a wink.

  “You certainly are. All right, I’ll add that to the list of things to ask Millie about later.”

  “Are you sure it’s important enough to do a spirit communication to contact Millie? Last time you wore yourself out so bad you were in bed for a whole day.”

  “That was different,” she reminded him. “That was when I tried to contact Mister Wilhelm’s dead wife and she didn’t want to talk to me. She was still mad at him for remarrying. This is just Millie. She likes to talk to me.”

  “All right, if you’re sure.”

  “I am. But it can wait until tomorrow. For now, why don’t we go and check on our children?”

  It turned out there was no need to go to Colby. She had gotten up from the couch and now she was standing there in the entryway between the living room and the kitchen, listening in. “It’s okay, Mom,” she said again, with a little more energy this time. “See, I’m fine.”

  “You should be lying down, young lady,” Jon told her, his voice full of concern even though he added a smile to soften his words. He went over and hugged her, and she leaned into him like she always did. She had started to catch a growth spurt recently. Now she was up to her father’s chest, tall and willowy and—to Darcy’s eyes—so very vulnerable.

  “You do feel warm,” Jon said after putting a hand to her forehead. “How do you feel otherwise?”

  “Well…” She grinned up at him. “It’s nothing that some ice cream and a movie on the couch wouldn’t fix.”

  Darcy had to laugh at that. “I’d say she’s feeling better.”

  Jon clapped his hands together. “Well, then ice cream it is. What kind of movie do you want to watch? Horror, comedy, or sci-fi?”

  “Ugh,” his daughter said, pulling a face. “No sci-fi, please. I don’t care if Darth Vader is Luke’s father or if that girl at Colony 41 is ever going to figure out what happened to her friend. Let’s do a comedy. Something to make us laugh.”

  “Sounds good. Just nothing that has what’s-his-name in it, okay?”

  “Who’s what’s-his-name?”.

  “You know,” he said, already in the freezer looking for the ice cream, “the guy with the face and the thing.”

  Colby didn’t quite roll her eyes. “’Kay. Still don’t know who you mean, but we’ll find something without what’s-his-name.”

  “Ahem,” her father said dramatically. “Remember our little talk about saying ‘okay’ instead of that other way?”

  She grinned and cocked her head to one side. “’Kay.”

  Jon grimaced. “Yes. That.”

  “Aw, Dad, you’re just upset because you think I’m going to take after Ellen Gless and start running around the country being a gun for hire.”

  He made a sound at the back of his throat and rolled his eyes over to Darcy. “Remind me to thank Ellen for regaling our daughter with stories of her troubled life.”

  Darcy made a what-can-you-do gesture, and Jon sighed. Their friend Ellen had spent years living as a mercenary, working for whoever would pay her fee, doing things that Darcy still didn’t like to think about. She’d turned her life completely around, though, and as far as Darcy was concerned there were a lot worse role models their daughter could have chosen.

  Like the famous actor who thought he was a comedian, with the face and the thing.

  Before Darcy could tell Jon any of that, his cellphone went off in its belt holder. He took it out, and frowned, and closed the freezer. Giving Darcy an apologetic shrug he swiped the answer button. “Hello?”

  Darcy knew that look, and she didn’t need to hear the other end of the conversation to know that was work calling her husband. They’d been together for years now, and they knew each other’s expressions, and their moods, and when the universe was conspiring to keep them apart. Like it was doing now.

  “Uh, yeah,” Jon said at the end of his conversation. “I know where that is. I can be there within an hour.”

  That surprised Darcy. Misty Hollow was a small town and no part of it was an hour away from any other part of it. Not by car. Which meant…

  “Where are you going?” she asked him when he hung up.

  “Uh, you caught that, did you?”

  Colby rolled her eyes. “Of course she caught it, Dad. You married Mom for her brains, remember?”

  Jon looked like he wanted to argue that point, but wisely chose not to. “Well, I can’t get anything over on the women of the Tinker-Sweet household, now can I? So, yeah. That was the lieutenant from over at the Meadowood Police Department. They’ve got a case they’re stuck on and they’re asking for assistance.”

  “From you?” Darcy didn’t understand. “They do know you’re the chief in Misty Hollow and have your own department to run, right?”

  “Sure they do. But…”

  She sighed. There was always a ‘but.’ “But what?”

  “But, their chief is out of state on vacation and as good as their lieutenant is, he’s good enough to know when he needs help. I did the same thing that summer when we went to Florida, remember?”

  Actually, Darcy had forgotten about that. Jon had temporarily given Meadowood’s chief jurisdiction in Misty Hollow in case anything really big came up. Darcy’s sister Grace was senior detective at the Misty Hollow PD, and technically Jon’s second in charge, but she and her family had come with them on that vacation. Wilson Barto
n had been out sick with a viral infection that had him confined to bed. It had left a big gap in the leadership at the department, so Jon had taken the step of asking for assistance rather than cancel their vacation plans and disappoint the kids. Nothing had happened while they were gone, thankfully, but now that favor was being called in.

  Darcy sat down at the table, realizing there was no way for Jon to get out of this. “So do I know this lieutenant at Meadowood?”

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s a bigger department over there.” He was putting his shoes back on as he talked, in a hurry to get going. The sooner he left, the sooner he could return. “We know a few of the officers over there but even I don’t know all of them. I much prefer leading my small-town department where I know everyone by name. Misty Hollow’s got other things that make it special, too.”

  He came over and gave Darcy a kiss on the cheek, and then hugged his daughter again. There was no doubt for either of them what special things he was talking about.

  Next to him, a white streak glided up from the floor to the countertop, landing with a graceful jump. Tiptoe looked up at him with unblinking, pearl green eyes, her left ear flicking.

  He grinned down at her and stroked her fur, ears to tail, just the way she liked. “Yeah, you’re pretty special too, Tiptoe. Even though you know you’re not supposed to be up on the counters.”

  “She knows,” Darcy said with a little shake of her head. “She just doesn’t care. She’s got a lot of her daddy Smudge behind that cute cat face.”

  Tiptoe looked her way, with her ears back and her eyes narrowed. She was every inch her father’s daughter, and Darcy could read that expression plain as day.

  I am not cute.

  “All right,” Jon said, giving Tiptoe a scratch under her chin whether she wanted it or not. “I’m going to head out. I’ll message you as soon as I know what’s going on. Don’t wait up.”

  “Wait, you didn’t tell me what’s so important that they’re calling you in before dinner.”

  He grimaced, his eyes flicking to Colby as if debating whether to say anything in front of her. They raised their daughter to know there was bad things in the world, however, and seeing ghosts like she did made her a lot more grown up than most. There might be some details that she was too young for, but when Jon said, “It’s a murder case,” Colby didn’t even blink.

  Something tightened in Darcy’s chest, though. Maybe just concern. Maybe intuition.

  Jon gave her one of his special smiles, telling her it was fine.

  She got up to give him a hug before he left. She hated it when the time they had to be with each other got stolen like this. It was his job, and she knew that, and she loved him for the way he helped people but sometimes she wished there was more of him that could be just hers.

  It was selfish, she knew, but then a wife got to be selfish when it came to her husband, didn’t she?

  After his car had pulled out of the driveway Darcy got out two bowls, and the ice cream that Jon had put back in the freezer. “Guess it’s just you and me and Zane for the evening. You pick the movie, I’ll get the snacks ready. Not too much or you’ll spoil your appetite for dinner.”

  The jewelry box was still on the kitchen table. That could wait for later. She hadn’t seen it in more years than she cared to admit and leaving it be for another few hours while she spent time with her children wouldn’t make a difference with it one way or another.

  When she brought the bowls of ice cream out to the living room she found Colby sitting on the couch, leaning forward, staring at the television. Whatever station she had it turned to was off the air. The screen displayed a message saying that content would be available soon, check your service provider for details.

  Colby was glued to the screen as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

  She set the bowls of ice cream down on the little coffee table in front of the couch. “Uh, honey? Whatchya doing?”

  Slowly, her little girl lifted a hand up and pointed at the television.

  Darcy cringed. “Honey, I know you aren’t feeling well but so help me, if you start saying ‘they’re here’ I will move the television into the basement and leave it there. You know Poltergeist freaked me out.”

  Colby turned to look at her mother. Her eyes were unfocused. “You can’t see what isn’t there,” she said.

  Darcy sat down next to her, patiently taking her outstretched hand and holding it down in her lap. She knew what this was. The family gift was stronger in Colby than it had ever been in Darcy, developing at a far younger age. Sometimes it just took her over completely and she said things that seemed like gibberish but that actually shed a light on the future. Colby didn’t always remember what she said or did when she got in this state. When she did remember, more often than not she wouldn’t have a clue about what they meant. Not until they came to pass.

  Sometimes the future only revealed itself in time, even with advanced warning.

  You can’t see what isn’t there.

  “I’m going to keep that in mind, honey,” she told Colby. “In the meantime, how about you dig into this?”

  She brought one of the bowls of over and waved it around under Colby’s nose. She blinked at it, coming back to herself quickly. “Ooh. Ice cream! Thanks, Mom.”

  Darcy kissed the top of her daughter’s head and took the second bowl for herself. “You’re welcome. Now. Let’s see how much of this movie we can get through before Cha Cha smells the ice cream and wakes your brother up.”

  Chapter 3

  Darcy woke up to a puppy dog licking her hand.

  She had fallen asleep on the couch after putting the dinner dishes in the sink and putting laundry in the washer and making sure both of her children made it to bed. The armrest made a fairly decent pillow, and the cushions were nice and plump, and this wasn’t the first time she’d fallen asleep down here waiting for Jon to get home. Zane had needed three stories before he would settle down and close his eyes. He kept saying it was Cha Cha who wanted her to read The Basketball Tree one more time, but she knew it was Zane’s favorite. That was okay. She kind of liked the book of short stories herself.

  Cha Cha’s tongue licked against her fingers again.

  “Stop it,” she told him, pulling her hand up and tucking it to her chest. “I don’t know where your tongue’s been.”

  “Um. It’s been in the food dish,” he told her in his growly little voice. “Oh, and on the bottom of your shoes. You stepped in some weird stuff today. Where were you when you did that? I’d like to go there. Maybe then I can step in it. Can I go there? Can I? Can I?”

  He blinked his dark brown eyes at her as he sat back on his haunches, panting excitedly.

  Darcy sat up. The floppy-eared puppy bounced on his front paws, hoping for playtime now that she was awake. Only, she wasn’t really awake, was she? This was another part of her family gift. Sometimes her dreams were more than dreams…like this one.

  Cha Cha couldn’t really talk, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have anything to say.

  “Hey, know what?” he asked her. “My tail’s faster than me. Watch.”

  He spun around in a circle, chasing his wagging tail, gruffing and biting at the empty space where it had been again and again until he got dizzy. When he stopped he tumbled into a sitting position, his eyes wide and out of focus. “See? That is one fast tail!”

  Darcy couldn’t help but laugh at the little guy. “Okay, Cha Cha. What’s going on in your world?”

  He lifted a back paw and began scratching at the side of his neck. “Um, not much. I thought there was a mouse upstairs today.” He scratched harder, his ear flopping wildly back and forth. “It wasn’t a mouse.” His ear wrapped around his foot. “It was that shaving thing that Jon uses. The one that goes buzz, buzz, buzz?” He tried to untangle his foot and failed. “Hey. I think I’m stuck.”

  Very slowly, he toppled over onto his side, tangled up in his own ear.

  “Hold on,” Darcy said
, laughing harder. “Let me get you undone. And that shaving thing is a razor. Stay away from that, okay? I don’t need a dog with a mohawk.”

  She unwound his ear, and set him back on his feet, scruffing the fur all along his back.

  “Bam-bow-wow,” he said, which was his favorite thing to say whenever he showed up in her dreams. “You sure are smart. I’m glad I live here. Hey can I get my own room? I think that would be fun. Just a small room. I’m a small dog. Small dogs only need small rooms. Can I? Can I?”

  “Uh, no,” she told him. “People get their own rooms. Dogs and cats get to sleep on our beds when they’re good.”

  “Besides,” a feline voice said. “I was here first. If anyone gets their own room, it’s going to be me, shoe-breath.”

  Tiptoe was laying across the arm of the couch now, where Darcy’s head had just been resting. Her tail hung over the side, swishing back and forth as she nonchalantly licked at her paw. She ruled this house, and she knew it. In the dream, Tiptoe was larger than she was in real life. Her baseball cap was on backwards over one ear. She only ever wore that cap in Darcy’s dreams. Maybe in her own dreams, too.

  Of course cats had dreams. Darcy had never doubted it. They were just as smart and imaginative as people. In some cases even more so.

  Tiptoe’s daddy Smudge used to appear in these dreams. He still did sometimes. Ghosts could do that.

  Which was why Darcy wasn’t surprised to see Great Aunt Millie walking her way down the stairs right. “Oh, my,” she said brightly. Her black dress swished with each slow step. “This house certainly has changed. I like what you’ve done but I’m not too sure about that color in the upstairs hallway.”

  Darcy smiled over at her. “I kind of agree. Jon and I are thinking of repainting. I’m glad you’re here, actually. Do you have a few minutes? I wanted to ask you about my mother’s jewelry box.”