The Greatest Gift (A Darcy Sweet Mystery) (10 page)

"Oh, anytime, anytime."
  With a sigh of relief that the conversation was over Giattano whisked into his office and closed the door behind him.

"He's hiding something," Darcy said to Jon.

"Probably, but it doesn't matter."  When she looked up to ask what he meant, he whispered, "That was Belinda who called.  She says the ghost is in her house right now."

***

"Jon, there is no ghost," Darcy insisted.  "I told you that."

He took a corner too fast and Darcy could see
the shocked looks on the faces of two people standing at the curb as they watched Jon's car squeal through the turn.  Two people she knew.  Two people who no doubt would already be calling their friends to spread the gossip about what they had just seen.

That crazy Darcy Sweet woman is at it again, they would say. 
Whatever.

"You're not a police officer here anymore," she reminded him, clutching the sides of her seat to hold herself steady.  "You may want to slow down before you get yourself a ticket."

"We need to be there now."  He slowed finally, but only to remember which street he needed, then his foot was on the gas pedal again.  "Besides, Chief Daleson likes me.  He said so yesterday when I spoke to him."

"
You talked to the police chief?  Here?" Darcy asked.  "Why?"

"That's her house there
," he said, ignoring her question.

The
y pulled over and parked on the side of the street behind a large green truck with oversized tires and a "Just Drive" bumper sticker.  "Belinda said she was upstairs in her bedroom and could hear this ghost of hers downstairs.  Can you go around to the back, and I'll come in the front?  With luck we'll catch whoever's masquerading as her dead husband by surprise."

Darcy started to say yes,
then corrected herself.  "Wait.  I have a better idea."

***

When she heard Jon crashing in through the front door, making just as much noise as he could, yelling "Police officer!  Don't move!" at the top of his lungs, Darcy readied herself.

Jon always did know how to make an entrance.

Bare seconds passed as Darcy stared at the metal hatchway doors leading up from the basement of the Franco home.  She counted them off in her head, and when she got to twenty-eight, the doors swung upward very slowly, and very silently.

Darcy had taken up a position at the back corner of the house, where she would be able to see those doors when Belinda's "ghost" tried to make his—or her—escape.  Sure enough, someone dressed all in black
was coming up through those doors now, obviously trying to rush and to be silent at the same time.  From black hiking boots to a puffy black ski jacket to a black mask with material covering even the eyeholes and mouth, the person was so covered up that Darcy couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman.

"Stop right there!" she called out, jumping out from her hiding spot, raising an accusing finger.  "Jon!  Jon, they're out here!"

The person turned, apparently stunned with disbelief at being caught, and for just a moment hung suspended like a statue.

Then they turned and ran.

Darcy was surprised.  Then she was angry with herself for being surprised.  How many times would it take for her to remember that telling someone not to move was the quickest way to get them to run?

It wasn't until the next second when Darcy's brain put her legs in gear and she started
chasing after the person in black.  Jon came out the back door at exactly that moment and Darcy pointed ahead of her at the retreating form.  Jon took off like a shot, but Darcy had the sinking feeling that it was already too late.

Unfortunately her hunch proved to be correct.  Through a hedge row on the next property over they ran, tailing the mysterious figure in black, Darcy's arms being mercilessly scra
tched up by the branches of shrubs that were taller than she or Jon.  When they came out the other side, their suspect was nowhere to be seen.

They were in someone's back yard, a wide expanse of carefully mown grass.  Darcy could hear street noises off to her right, and then a car door slammed and a vehicle drov
e away.  She didn't need to see it to know that was their suspect driving away.

"He got away," Jon said,
repeating her thoughts, panting for breath.  It had been a short sprint but they had given it their all.  It just hadn't been good enough.

"How did you know?" Jon asked her.  Back in Jon's car, they drove around and around Misty Hollow, with no real goal
in mind other than talking about what to do next.

"When I was downstairs with Belinda
," Darcy explained, "looking at her treasures, I saw the hatchway.  It wasn't locked then.  I checked.  I locked it before we left, of course, but I figured if whoever was doing this got in once, they would get in again."

"Smart," he complimented her.  "So.  We know the motive is this money Belinda is supposed to be hiding in her house, but who do we think is doing it?"

"Not Giattano," she said, crossing that name off her mental list.  "That leaves Rita, and Cassidy and Angela Whedon."

"The Handyman Express owners?
  Why them?"  He slowed for a man and a woman holding hands to cross the street at an intersection, looking over at her as he did.

"
Giattano mentioned how those two had criminal records, and also how they were experts at installing locks.  If someone is constantly picking the lock on the basement hatchway, then it stands to reason they know something about locks."

They watched the couple cro
ss to the other side of the street, Darcy wishing that she could be walking around with Jon now just like that instead of trying to solve yet another problem for her neighbors.  At the same time, it felt right to be doing this with him.  To be helping people who needed it.  Together.

"
Hm," he said thoughtfully.  "I didn't know about that when I spoke to them.  I'll call back to my people in Oak Hollow and ask them to interview those two again.  At least get an alibi for this morning.  Speaking of such things, don't you need to get back to the bookstore?"

She sighed.  Yes, she did.  She really wanted to play
hookey and let Izzy watch the place for the day, again, but she'd been doing that too much already as it was.  Not that she didn't trust Izzy, but it wasn't fair to her. 

"Too many responsibilities?" he asked her suddenly, in that voice that
used to make her melt.

"Something
like that.  With mom's wedding coming up, and the store, and Grace's baby on the way, and this thing with Belinda, and…"

She trailed off, and in the silence that followed he reached over and held her hand with his.  "It will be all right
," he said to her.  "We'll figure everything out."

She couldn't say why
, but somehow, this time, she believed him.

***

It had to be Rita.  Didn't it?

Darcy had debated this out with herself for two solid hours, working in the bookstore more or less on autopilot, selling books to people with a smile, even
selling three e-readers one right after the other.  It was a good sales day, to be sure.

After, staring at the register, she c
ouldn't remember a single person who had been in the store.  That was how distracted she was.

She growled and shook her head.  "This is stupid."

"What's that?" Izzy asked from over in the history section.

"Nothing, I guess," Darcy told her.  "I've just got a lot on my mind."

"Jon, you mean?" Izzy winked.

"Well, yes, him.  But this
trouble that I'm helping Belinda Franco with is bugging me and I can't keep my mind on my work."

Izzy came over, two copies of
American History: The Real Story
tucked under one arm.  "Darcy, it's all right if you want to go take care of that.  I've got this."

Darcy looked at her friend.  Izzy and she had grown close over the last few months.  It was good to have someone to depend on, someone you shared sec
rets and troubles with.  "That would be wonderful, Izzy.  Are you sure?"

Izzy shrugged.  "You saved me from a murder charge.  I think I can cover for you one more time.  After all, isn't that what friends do?  They help each other out."

Darcy came around the sales counter and gave Izzy a hug.  "Thank you.  I've just got so much going on right now."

She went into the office and made a few notes for herself for tomorrow.  She was really going to have to put in some hours this week and next to make up for the time
she had spent away from the store.

From the shelf over the desk, a book fell, thumping in the middle of Darcy's carefully penned note,
causing her to leave a long scratching pen mark across the page.

"Millie!" Darcy laughed.  "I'll find time to hang out with you, too.  Just not now.  Okay?"

On her way out she thanked Izzy again.  A mother and a young child of maybe three were coming in as she was leaving, and she held the door for them to get in before stepping outside to get her bicycle and head for—

Wait.

She looked in through the front window of the store, watching the child pick through the kids' books with a big smile as his mother chatted with Izzy.  Something had clicked in Darcy's mind.

Holding the door open for someone.

Her mind added that idea to something Izzy had just said to her and suddenly the question of who was "haunting" Belinda became a whole lot clearer.

If she was right…

She needed to find Jon.

***

"Are you sure?" Jon asked her.  This time, they were both hiding inside Belinda's home.  They were in the living room, sitting on the floor behind one of the couches.  The furniture had low backs, but if they sat down like this they would be hidden from the view of anyone coming up through that special door.

Darcy answered Jon's question with one word.  "Yes."  She was sure.  They were going to find their would-be thieves tonight.

She had explained her plan to Jon twice, repeating it when he asked her to, before standing back with a smile to watch the way his eyes sparked when he caught on to what she was saying.  He had pulled her into a tight hug, and then kissed her.

Oh, how she wished they were doing that now.

After she had finally permitted him to step out of the embrace, they had set the plan into motion.  Now, they waited to see if it bore fruit.

Belinda had left her house an hour ago, very publicly, calling across to one of her neighbors to tell them, in a loud voice, that she was going out for the evening.  If anyone had been watching, there was no way they could have missed that performance.

"You know," Jon said, "in a way I'm kind of sorry for Belinda.  Here she thought her dead husband had come back to take care of her, and it turns out that it's just a common case of greed.  Someone trying to steal from her."

Darcy pushed back a few strands of her dark hair that had fallen into her face.  "I see what you mean.  I suppose everyone deserves to
have the people they loved watch over them even after death."

"We need to talk," he said so suddenly that she thought her mind would get whiplash.

"Uh," she stammered.  "Jon…"

"I know, I know.  We're on a stakeout and this isn't the time.  The thing is, there's never a good time for us.  I was going to wait until we were done with this but we've been sitting here for an hour already.  My butt is going numb."

In spite of herself she giggled.  "No, wait.  Don't make me laugh.  Not after saying that.  You can't just say that and then be all cute and funny.  I've given you plenty of opportunities to talk about this."

He raised an eyebrow.  "So you do think I'm cute?"

She shoved his shoulder hard, and he rocked back on the floor.  He smiled, and she smiled back, even if she was mad at herself for it.

"It's kind of important,
what I need to say, is the thing," he said, settling back into a sitting position.  "It's about us."

Oh, thank God, Darcy thought to herself.  Finally.  But here? 
Now?

"I had a long talk with Chief
Daleson yesterday," he told her, confirming what she had suspected.  "After I filled him in on what we were doing here I had a talk with him about my old job.  Things are still unsettled for me over in Oak Hollow.  Those burglaries, for example.  I can't just leave the investigation half done.  But—"

He stopped, and rais
ed a finger to his lips.  Oh, for Pete's sake, she thought.  No way.  He did not get to shush her just as he was getting to the good part!

Darcy heard it then, too.  The sound of the hidden door to the basement being opened.  She ground her teeth together.  The bad guys would come
now, right in the middle of her chance to finally find out what was going on in Jon's head.  Just her luck.