2 Mists of the Past (6 page)

“What did you do that for? There was no need.” Darcy stretched and wished she’d changed out of her clothes before going to bed. Oh well. She smiled at her sister. “I know the whole story anyway. He told me.”

Grace’s eyebrows shot up. “So he told you that he attacked someone?”

A cold shock spread through her at her sister’s words. Darcy furrowed her brow and shook her head. “What do you mean?”

Grace gave her a long look. “Jon’s file also had an attack charge on it but there were no details listed about it. I’m still trying to find out more information.” She gave Darcy another look. “I do trust Jon, but be careful for me, will you sis?”

Grace stood up and returned the chair to the corner. She patted Darcy’s leg through the blanket. “You always did follow your heart. Be careful it doesn’t lead you down the wrong path, okay?”

Darcy said, “Yes, I agree. Thanks for coming Grace. Thanks for…looking into this.”

After Grace had left, Darcy spent a long time thinking about what her sister had told her. Did this mean Jon was being dishonest with her again?

Maybe it was just a mistake. Was there anything to it at all? He was a police officer, for crying out loud, and sometimes cops were accused of using excessive force. Weren’t they? She blew out a long breath and told herself she had to decide. Either she trusted Jon, or she didn’t.

Chapter Eight

Darcy was feeling better the next day but had decided to stay home just in case. She didn’t want to overdo it. The communication had taken more out of her than she realized. It had been so intense, this time. She never liked to perform those. It always seemed to sap away some of her inner strength. Some of her soul, to be more specific.

When Darcy had been just a girl, not even into her teens, she had delved heavily into the world of the occult. Spurred by visions she couldn’t understand, visions that always came true in some way, she took out books from the local library and read everything they had to offer on the subject of the occult.

That’s where she had first learned how to do a communication with the spirit world. She had been so proud of herself, up in her room, surrounded by a circle of candles, exhaling and inhaling and working up a connection to the other side that would bring forth a ghost for her to talk to.

After that night, she had taken all of the books back to the library and boxed up all of the candles and tried to deny the whole thing had ever happened.

Her sixth sense had other ideas for her.

She shuddered at the memory. This communication had felt different somehow, though, and had taken even more out of her than usual. She had called Sue early in the morning to say she was too sick to go into work and to ask the girl if she wouldn’t mind taking care of things for her for another day. Sue had told her not to worry and that she had it all under control. Darcy didn’t doubt it for a minute. She knew that she could always depend upon Sue.

She spent the morning taking it easy, just sitting on her couch in her living room, reading a book and drinking tea. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done this. As relaxing as it was, she knew she wouldn’t be able to put up with this inactivity for very long. Not only that, but thoughts of the problem of Jon kept bubbling to the surface, disturbing her calm. She was hoping her subconscious would come up with an idea of what to do about him, the letter, the threat, the vision, all while she read through chapter after chapter of a historical romance novel.

She was just getting to the good part in her book when there was a knock at the door. She was tempted to just ignore whoever it was but when they knocked a second time she knew that they weren’t going to go away. “Oh for Pete’s sake,” she mumbled. Sighing, she put the book down. Checking out the window before opening the door, she was surprised to find Linda and Helen standing on the other side.

“Hello, you two. What a surprise.” Darcy was genuinely happy to see them and stood back to let them enter. She noticed they had their arms full of plastic bags and paper sacks and a pot that Helen carried in both hands.

“We heard that you were a bit under the weather so we come bearing gifts,” Linda said as she made her way into the house and straight into the kitchen.

“Are you alright dear,” Helen said, looking at Darcy with a frown. “You look a bit pale. Never mind. Once you get some of my chicken soup into you, you’ll feel better in no time.” Helen indicated the huge pot of soup she held.

“And don’t forget some of my tea,” Linda called out from the other room. Darcy and Helen laughed as they followed her into the kitchen. Her two friends had been in Darcy’s house a number of times. They knew to make themselves at home.

Linda was a tall woman, thin in that way that some women could pull off so easily, and always quick to smile.  She worked at the library in town, one of Darcy’s favorite spots, so they got to spend a lot of time together.  Her red hair was curly on the ends and, as she was fond of pointing out, her natural color.

In contrast, Helen was a stocky older woman with graying dark hair. She wore a gray pantsuit with a crisp white blouse. Those weren’t the clothes that Darcy was used to seeing her friend in. But since she’d began taking on the mayoral duties her husband used to perform, she’d stopped dressing like a bakery owner and started dressing like a businesswoman.  Darcy had to smile. She thought her friend would make a fine mayor.

“Thank you very much for the gifts, I appreciate it.” Darcy said as they sat around the kitchen table drinking tea and pushing spoons through steaming bowls of thick chicken soup. She was very touched by their thoughtful gesture. She also felt a little sad to remember how Anna, her neighbor, had been murdered just a few weeks before. Anna had always been stopping by to drop off food to Darcy or to just sit and visit. She missed her friend.

“How did you know I was sick anyway?” she asked. Knowing this town it wouldn’t have taken long for it to get around that she wasn’t at work. She almost never missed work.

“I saw Jon earlier,” Helen said. “He told me. And Grace told Linda when she saw her at the bank earlier. So when Linda came into the bakery and we got to talking we decided to come and visit you together.”

They sat and chatted over unimportant things for a while, until Helen and Linda both said they had to get back to work. Darcy thanked them again and saw them out. Helen left the rest of the soup with her, and Linda left the crusty loaves of bread she’d brought. It was enough for two or three meals.

She actually felt much better after that little visit. Any trace of a headache was gone and she felt ready to dive right back into the mystery at hand. Darcy decided that she would ask Jon about the attack he’d been accused of. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too mad at Grace for looking into it.

There had to be an end to the secrets between them, though, if their relationship was going to go anywhere.

***

“Wow, something smells great.” Jon sniffed the air as he entered Darcy’s house. “What are you cooking?” He dropped a quick kiss to her cheek and then he headed for the kitchen with Darcy following him. She had to smile at the boyish way he was acting. Anyone watching him would think he hadn’t eaten all day.

Darcy explained how Linda and Helen had stopped by earlier and dropped off some food, including the soup. Jon went over to the pot and lifted the lid to take a look. He sniffed appreciably again. Then he turned to her with a more serious expression. “How are you feeling today?”

Darcy nuzzled in close to him for a hug. “I’m feeling much better. Thanks for looking after me when I passed out. I just took it easy today. I’m back to my old self.”

She went to the cupboard and took out two bowls. She served up the soup and cut pieces off the bread and they sat down to eat it. Jon was making all sorts of appreciative sounds and Darcy couldn’t help but grin at him.

“What?” he said when he caught her looking at him.

“Nothing. I just like watching you.” The soup wasn’t the only thing that looked tasty, she thought.

Jon talked about his day while they ate and brought up the subject of the letter twice. Each time he paused like he was expecting her to say something. She kept quiet each time, though, knowing she had to bring up the subject of the assault with him, but wanting to wait until later. She wanted their evening to at least have one happy, normal moment before diving into whatever had happened in Jon’s past again.

When they were done and had cleaned up the dishes they moved into the living room, each with a cup of Linda’s special tea. Darcy was suddenly nervous at the thought of telling Jon what Grace had done, and what she had found out.

She cleared her throat as they sat down on the couch and she looked at Jon. “I have to tell you something.”

He put down his cup on the coffee table and sat up straighter. “Okay,” he said, a little defensively. “I’m listening.”

She started twirling the ring on her finger frantically. It didn’t help to comfort her at all. She said quickly, “I had Grace look into your file. I know about how you were charged for attacking someone, I don’t want there to be any more secrets and I just want you to tell me about it.” She cringed, ready for whatever his reaction might be.

To her surprise, he reached out a hand and laid it over hers where she was twisting her ring. “I understand why you looked into my file. It’s all right. No more secrets.”

She relaxed when she realized that he wasn’t going to be mad and then waited for him to continue. “I attacked a man,” he said. “A guy that I thought was responsible for Kyle’s murder. After he died and after I found him there I, uh, went a little insane. I was so certain it wasn’t a suicide, but no one believed me.”

“Why did everyone think it was a suicide?”

“Kyle overdosed on anxiety pills. They were prescribed to him. He had to carry those things with him everywhere he went.” Jon’s eyes got wider. “You know, I didn’t think of that. Maybe the thing that rattled in Kyle’s hand in your vision was a pill bottle.”

She couldn’t hold back her surprise. “I thought you didn’t believe in my sixth sense?”

He brought her hand up to his lips for a kiss. “What I believe doesn’t matter. You believe it. And I believe in you.”

Her heart melted. Not even her ex-husband, Jeff, had ever said those words to her. As she looked up into Jon’s face, a realization of her own bubbled to the surface. “You know, Lily told me that she’s on anxiety meds. That seems too much of a coincidence doesn’t it? Do you think she had anything to do with it?” Darcy shook her head. There had been so many false accusations flying around town last month when Anna and Jeff were murdered. “She seems so nice but I’ve learned that people are often not what they seem. Oh, I just don’t know.”

Jon stood up. “Tell you what. I’ll go and question Lily right now. Maybe being honest with her like we’re being with each other will get some answers to all of these questions.”

He started for the door and Darcy got up to follow him. He put a hand on her arm to stop her. “You stay here, this is police business. I’d feel better if you stayed here.” He left as she was trying to formulate the words to argue with him. She stared at the closed door for several moments before throwing her head back against the couch. She couldn’t say that she wasn’t a little miffed about being left out of this, even if she did understand his reasoning.

She stayed at home for an hour, cleaning up, reading, pacing. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to find Jon and find out what was happening.

***

Ten minutes later Darcy arrived at the police station. She had practically run all the way into to town. Jon rolled his eyes at her when she came through the doorway.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away for long,” he grinned at her. “You’re starting to give our desk Sergeant fits, you know. You’re in here more often than some of the people who actually work here.”

She sat down at his desk with a little smile. It was true. Not only did trouble find her, but sometimes she actively sought it out. Finger combing her windblown hair, she said, “What happened?”

He shrugged. “Lily said she didn’t know anything about any murder and refused to come in with me to talk. She got so agitated that she slapped me.”

Darcy was shocked, but Jon put his hands up and motioned for her not to worry. “It didn’t hurt. It did, however, make my job easy. I was able to bring her in for assaulting a police officer. I’ve been letting her cool down a bit before I question her.”

“Are you going to charge her? Send her to court?”

“No. If I arrested everyone who got mad at me the jails would be full. It does give me an excuse to go and question her now.”

Jon got up from his chair and moved towards the interrogation room. One of the interrogation rooms was fitted with a one-way mirror, and Darcy went to stand on this side of it as Jon went inside the room. She looked at Lily through the glass. Was this the murderer? How could they tell?

Some days, she wished her sixth sense could do more for her than muddle her life.

Chapter Nine

Darcy continued to watch through the one way glass as Jon questioned Lily.

“Have you ever lived anywhere else Lily?” Jon asked. “Do you know anything about Kyle Young?” Lily started to cry. “Do you enjoy poetry?” Jon kept throwing the questions at her, getting nothing but more crying for his efforts.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lily managed to say in between sobs.  Darcy could see that Jon wasn’t going to get anywhere. Not this way. Without waiting for permission she entered the room where Jon was interrogating Lily.

“What are you doing Darcy?” Jon asked. “You can’t be in here.” She ignored him and sat down next to Lily, taking hold of her hands. She had decided, watching all this, that she would try to use her sixth sense to get some answers. Darcy closed her eyes and concentrated. But nothing happened. She didn’t feel anything. She let go of Lily’s hands, stood up and left the room with Jon following her.

“What was that all about?” he demanded.