21 Death Takes a Letter Read online

  “Mom,” Colby said, with the calm certainty of a seven-year-old, “we’re safe here. We built this home together. We made it stronger with love. The bad things can’t get in as long as we love each other.”

  She was right, Darcy realized. The fog slid against the glass of the window with a sickening, sucking sort of sound, but it didn’t get in. It couldn’t get in.

  Darcy folded her arm around her daughter. “When did you get so smart?”

  A familiar voice answered from the corner of the room. “She takes after you, Darcy.”

  Colby laughed with delight and bounced up and off the other side of the bed, over to the corner by her closet. “Aunt Millie!” she squealed. “Rock me, Aunt Millie, rock me!”

  Sure enough, in the wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room sat Aunt Millie. She wore her usual long black dress. The matching floppy hat was on the floor next to her, exposing the thick white curls of her hair. She had a very kind face, the same face that Darcy remembered from when she was growing up in this very house. Before she had died.

  “Oh, don’t look so surprised,” she said to Darcy now as she picked up Colby with some effort and settled the girl down on the chair beside her. “You know I’m still around. I just haven’t had much to say recently.”

  “I’ve never known you to be at a loss for words,” Darcy said, adding a smile to soften the words.

  So. This was a dream, then. Aunt Millie was dead but she was here, and in dreams things like that were possible.

  It was one of those dreams that were never just dreams.

  From within the blanket Tiptoe suddenly lifted up her head again, staring at Darcy with those intense pearl green eyes of hers. “Don’t you have work to do?” she asked.

  Darcy gave her a tolerant sigh. “You know, usually it’s Smudge who finds me in these dreams to criticize my life.”

  Tiptoe shrugged a shoulder and flicked her tail. “Dad wanted to be here but he gets tired real easy these days. He’s like, four hundred and eighty in people years.”

  Aunt Millie cleared her throat. “I think you may have done that math wrong, dear.”

  That got another nonchalant kittycat shrug as a response. “What do cats need math for? We know what we know and we don’t bother with the rest.”

  “Spoken like a true cat,” Millie complimented her. She was rocking Colby back and forth, the chair making gentle creaking noises as they moved back and forth.

  “She’s a good cat,” Colby said in a sleepy voice. “Sometimes she sings me to sleep.”

  That sort of surprised Darcy. “She does?”

  “Naturally,” Tiptoe said defensively. “I have a great singing voice. Even my dad thinks so. He would have been here to tell you so himself. He just gets so tired…”

  She looked sad for a moment, and Darcy reached out to stroke the silvery gray fur at the back of her neck. “It’s okay, Tiptoe. Smudge is feeling his age. He’s earned some rest.”

  Tiptoe nodded. She didn’t say anything, but her whiskers twitched.

  “Your mother would be so proud of you,” Darcy felt the need to tell the kitten. “I wish Twistypaws could have been here to see you grow up.”

  Tiptoe blinked. “Dad loved her. A lot.”

  “Yes,” Darcy agreed. “He did.”

  “Darcy,” Millie called to get her attention. “About Erika Becht.”

  “Oh, right. Do you know something about that? Anything you could tell me would be helpful at this point. Say, have you seen her ghost? Do you know each other?”

  Millie chuckled. “It’s not like a sewing circle on this side, Darcy. We don’t ask each other to tea.”

  “Really? You’ve had tea with me in my dreams any number of times.”

  “True enough. I enjoy a good cup of tea.” She beamed at Darcy. “Especially when the company is so nice. Now. About Erika Becht.”

  “Yes, about that. I’m actually glad you’re here because I need to ask…” Darcy shifted back to a sitting position on the floor, leaning her arm across the mattress to scratch Tiptoe around her neck. “Should I do a spirit communication? I thought maybe I could contact Erika Becht’s spirit and ask her what happened when she died, but I’m pregnant and I don’t know… will it be bad for my baby?”

  Millie pursed her lips. “I was never pregnant during a spirit communication.”

  Was that a yes, or a no? “Millie, I’m trying to help a friend. Linda needs to know what happened to her mother.”

  “I knew you would say that,” her aunt said, “but you need to leave that alone. The answers are worse than the question.”

  Darcy blinked at her. “Leave it alone? Millie, when have you ever asked me not to go looking for the truth?”

  “Plenty of times, dear. Like when you were looking into my death, for instance. Remember the trouble that caused you? Oh, I warned you, but you never listened to me. Darcy Sweet keeps her own counsel, hmm?”

  “Millie that’s not fair. I’ve always listened to your counsel.”

  “You listen. You just don’t always hear me.”

  Cozied up to Millie’s side, Colby was nearly asleep again. “My mom helps people,” she mumbled with a yawn. “She always helps people.”

  Millie continued to rock her. “Yes. I know she does. I think she’s going to try to help here, too. Darcy, you just remember what I said, hmm? Remember that sometimes you know people, and sometimes you don’t. You might not like what you find this time.”

  “Do I ever?” Darcy quipped.

  Tiptoe stood on the bed, and stretched with her back arched in that way that cats have. Then she padded over to Darcy and lifted a paw up to her cheek. “Darcy?”

  “Yes, Tiptoe?”

  “You need to wake up.”

  With a jolt, Darcy’s eyes popped open and she looked around her daughter’s dark room. The only source of illumination came from the nightlight. She was still kneeling next to the bed. Her head had been pillowed on an arm. Tiptoe was curled up in the blanket, staring at her.

  Over in the corner, Colby sat in the rocking chair, curled up and asleep.

  The chair was moving back and forth, very slowly, making gentle creaking noises as it rocked in place.

  “Thanks for all the advice, Millie,” Darcy whispered, “but just once I’d like a nice, easy, straightforward answer. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Mom?” Colby stirred at the sound of Darcy’s voice. “Why’re you in my room?”

  “Shh. It’s okay, Starshine. I’m just tucking you in. Let’s get you back in bed, okay?”

  “All right. Bedtime. Yup, yup.”

  She walked in a sort of daze from the chair back to her bed, which Darcy was grateful for. Colby wasn’t heavy at all, but in Darcy’s current condition lifting a laundry basket was an effort, let alone her drowsy child.

  “There you go,” she said, tucking the blanket up around Colby’s chin. She was already asleep again. Tiptoe regarded Darcy from behind narrowed eyes, her expression clearly telling her not to worry. Colby was in good hands… er, paws.

  She rubbed the cat’s ears, proud of how big and brave Smudge’s little daughter was becoming. She was a good addition to the family.

  From the open bedroom door a soft meow drew Darcy’s attention. Smudge sat there, his black and white fur a dusky gray in the ambient glow of the hallway light. There was a lot more white in his fur than there ever had been before. “Hey, old man,” she greeted him. Stepping out of the room, she gently picked him up and held him against her chest. He purred for a moment to say thanks. “Now that I’ve had a nap, why don’t you and I bug Jon for that foot rub he promised me? I’ll put that blanket you like over me and you can take a nap on my legs while Jon performs one of his husbandly duties.”

  Smudge looked up at her, his ears drooping.

  “Well, yes,” Darcy admitted. “He’s done a fantastic job at his other husbandly duty. We’re going to have another little boy or girl soon. I know how much you love that.”

  His tail
flicked. As long as this one doesn’t rub my fur the wrong way, Darcy knew he was saying.

  “Colby only did that a few times. We taught her to stop.”

  They were at the bottom of the stairs now, and it occurred to Darcy exactly how quiet the house was. No television. No husband humming off-key to himself as he finished the dishes. Just the sound of the clock ticking. “Jon?”

  Smudge pushed against her arms until she let him down on his feet. When she did, he went straight to the kitchen table. Carefully, he jumped up onto a chair, and then he craned his neck until he could see over the table top.

  Darcy saw what he was looking at. A note on the table, left for her.

  She picked it up, frowning down at her cat. “You know, once upon a time you would have just brought this to me.”

  He blinked at her.

  “Yes, my legs work too. But you’ve got four.”

  He didn’t seem to find that amusing. Jumping down from the chair, he walked out of the kitchen, his tail in the air.

  “Cranky old man, aren’t you?”

  She held the note up. It was from Jon to her, just like she expected.

  Had to go into work, it read. Possible break in our case. Went upstairs to tell you but you were asleep. Don’t wait up. Footrubs tomorrow, I promise.

  At the bottom he’d drawn a little heart, one side of it thinner and longer than the other like he usually did.

  She wasn’t annoyed with him, that he’d left without a word, or that his job had once again gotten in the way of them spending time together. At least, that was what she told herself. Jon had always worked odd hours since taking over as the police chief. It was still a small department even if they had added several new members in the last few years and small departments meant limited resources. When they needed Jon, he was always there for them.

  Only, Darcy was pregnant now. Was it too much to think that his first priority should be her, and not the job?

  She shook her head and tossed the note back on the table. That was a very selfish thought. She wasn’t the only one who needed Jon. His people needed him. There was a missing girl out there who needed him, too.

  Part of her still thought she should be the most important thing in his life.

  An even bigger part of her agreed.

  Darcy started up for bed. She had an early morning full of mystery solving planned.

  3

  Colby gave Darcy a quick kiss and a hug before running out the door with her backpack hanging loosely over one shoulder. As soon as the bus drove away, Darcy got her coat and shoes on. The weather forecast said it was going to be warm today but she found it hard to be anything but cold now that she was pregnant. The baby was sucking away all of her natural body heat. It hadn’t been this way with Colby. Well. Every pregnancy was different, she supposed.

  Jon had woken her with a quick kiss two hours ago, on his way out. Back to the police station for him. If she had time today she really should stop by the station with some lunch. She knew how he got when he was working a case like this. He’d forget to eat until his belly was growling like an angry bear.

  As soon as Darcy stepped out the door her neighbor Izzy McIntosh was there to pick her up. Walking into town took a lot of energy now that she was walking for two. Riding her trusty bicycle was out of the question. For now, and until it was time for Colby’s little brother or sister to arrive, she was going to be dependent on the kindness of her friends.

  Izzy waved from behind the wheel of her car. She was in a short-sleeved blouse and—Darcy noticed as she got in the front seat—a pair of tan capris. Darcy’s business partner had no trouble with the weather. Then again, she sometimes wore a jean jacket in the heart of winter. She had her dark blonde hair done up in a low-hanging side bun, something she’d been experimenting with. Darcy thought it suited her. Apparently, a new man she was dating thought so as well, although pulling details of the relationship out of her had been like pulling teeth with a pair of tweezers.

  Some women like their privacy. Darcy could understand that.

  “Thanks for picking me up,” she said as they pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. “I want to get the front tables set up for the book club.”

  “You really got them all to come in so early?” Izzy laughed softly. “I thought when people got that old they didn’t get out of bed before noon.”

  “I think you’re confusing old people and teenagers,” Darcy suggested. “Which reminds me, has Lilly made any plans for after high school?”

  “My daughter insists she wants to be a veterinarian. She has the brains for it, though God knows where she got them from. So, a few years of college and a pretty hefty student loan ahead of her, I’m afraid.”

  “Welcome to the world of having children, right?” Darcy knew she would have to figure things like that out herself soon enough, for her own children. She was looking forward to it. “Did I miss anything at the shop yesterday?”

  “Not a thing,” Izzy promised. “We did good sales, but nothing spectacular. Oh, they’ve started clearing out the debris from the bakery fire. I hear our mayor is going to build another store right on the same spot.”

  “I think she should. The bakery was her pride and joy for a lot of years. It devastated all of us when it burned down like that.”

  They were on Main Street now, and further down Darcy could see the charred remains of the two-story building that was once the Bean There Bakery and Café. Seeing it reminded her that tragedy came in lots of different forms. Death. Missing children. And, other times, something you had worked your whole life for was taken away in a single instant by someone’s selfish deed. That’s what had happened to the bakery. Darcy was happy to know it would be brought back to life as something else.

  As Izzy unlocked the front door of the Sweet Read Bookstore, Darcy tried to think of a good book she could pull from one of the shelves and use as a cover for this hasty meeting of the book club. There were a few new mystery novels out from authors that she liked. She could pick a classic, too, like Little Women, but that wouldn’t really appeal to the two men in the group. Obama’s autobiography wasn’t due out until next month. There were a couple of paranormal thrillers, too, but she felt they might be a little too scary for some of the group.

  Well, she was better off sticking with what she knew. A murder mystery it was, then.

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the inside of the store. Darcy smiled at the rich smell and the soft gurgling sounds coming from the new coffee maker over by the far wall, past the round reading tables in that corner of the store. Buying a machine with a timer had been Izzy’s idea. It had saved them a lot of time in the morning. Now they only had to remember to load the machine and set the clock before they left each day. By the time they were ready to open, there would already be coffee waiting for the customers.

  Between the two of them, they had made the bookstore into something of a landmark. Tourists coming to Misty Hollow knew to look for the Sweet Read Bookstore. People came from other towns to shop here for both “real” books and e-readers and even audio books. It was quite the change from ten years ago when she had been facing the very real possibility that she would have to close up for good. Things had really turned around.

  Darcy blinked at herself as she dropped her coat across the chair in the cramped back office. Ten years? Longer than that, sure, but in those ten years so much had happened. Where had the time gone? She thought of all the things that had happened in her life… her divorce from her first husband and later his murder, meeting Jon and falling in love with him, giving birth to Colby and seeing her grow, meeting new people and seeing new things and learning that everything she had thought about her own past might not be exactly what she thought it was.

  And along the way, any number of mysteries to solve. Life had gotten full for her in a real hurry.

  Now there was another mystery to solve from a long, long time ago.

  Coming back to herself, she found her gaze had locked
on the shelf above the cluttered desk. She kept a number of books there, ones that had been sent as samples by companies who wanted her business, or ones that had to be pulled from the stacks out in the shop because of poor sales, and a few that were very personal to her.

  Great Aunt Millie’s journals held a place of honor in the middle.

  If anyone would be able to answer the questions she had about pregnant women doing spirit communications, it would be Millie. Last night, during her dream, she’d only gotten half an answer.

  I was never pregnant during a spirit communication.

  That was hardly helpful, considering Great Aunt Millie had never had any children, but the rest of the dream had gone by so fast she hadn’t had the chance to ask again. Now, if she wanted an answer, she was going to have to do the research herself. She reached up to the journals and cleared off a little space on the desk by shuffling the unpaid bills on top of the new book orders. Setting the journals there, she opened the first one.

  “Darcy,” Izzy called to her. “The book club members are starting to arrive.”

  She sighed. This would have to wait. It wasn’t like she was going to do a spirit communication in the next hour, anyway.

  Putting on a smile for when she left the office, Darcy saw that four of the club members had already arrived. Thankfully one of them was Damita Marino, who had her promised box of two dozen donuts with her. She wore a full-length blue dress with that same red broach near her right shoulder. The very elderly Cora Morton and Evelyn Casey were both there with a box of muffins. Darcy hardly ever saw those two apart from each other. Some friendships last forever and those two were living proof at the ages of seventy-nine and eighty. Already sitting down with a cup of coffee, the fourth member of the group who had arrived was Carson Fillmore. He was the youngest of the group besides Darcy, and far too young to have known Erika Becht.