2 Mists of the Past (4 page)

“Darcy, we’ve been through this before.” Jon started to pace. “You and this damned sixth sense. Why didn’t you tell me about the vision last night? Why keep it from me?” He sounded very upset. “What? Do you think I actually killed someone? I can’t believe that you don’t trust me.” He started to walk past her.

She grabbed his arm. “No, Jon. You don’t understand. I never thought you really did it. I was just confused and anxious about the vision.”

Jon shook her hand off and said, “Darcy you asked me all about this. I told you how all that happened, about how I was accused, and cleared, and I really thought this was done between us. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.” He stormed away from her heading back to town.

Darcy felt her temper rise and then quickly break apart. She’d accused him without proof. Again.

There was something her visions wanted to know, though, and Jon hadn’t exactly tried to help her understand what.

Chapter Four

Darcy was so upset over Jon’s reaction that she couldn’t sit still. She was pacing the length of her kitchen, backwards and forwards, until she could calm down somewhat. Only then could she admit that she was also really mad at herself. Why didn’t she trust him? She loved him, didn’t she? She should have talked to him right away about the vision she’d had instead of running away from him.  She’d only made things worse now.

The case had been ruled a suicide, according to what Grace had found out, and she should have accepted that at face value. Or accepted what the old newspaper article had said about the whole thing. It was probably a very sensitive subject for Jon. It had been enough to drive him away from his old department.

She decided to stop being an idiot and go after him. Her mind made up, she left her house quickly. She needed to find him in a hurry if she was going to set this right.

She wasn’t sure where he would have gone. She didn’t find him on the path back into town so she went to the police station. The desk sergeant let her know he wasn’t there. The next logical place to look was his apartment, which was located a little outside of the town center on the opposite side from where she lived. Before long she found herself climbing the creaking, wooden steps to his front door.

With butterflies rampaging around inside of her she lifted her hand and knocked on the door. Several agonizing moments passed where she was convinced he wasn’t going to answer. She was about to knock again when she heard his voice through the door. “Go away Darcy, I don’t want to see you right now.”

“That’s too bad Jon, because I’m not leaving. I messed up, and I need to let you know that, and I’ll stay here all night if I need to.” She stood up straight and propped her hands on her hips.

Jon sighed and then reluctantly opened the door. He walked away and she took that as an invitation to enter. Closing the door behind her she followed him into the entry hall and then into his living room. Not exactly sure how to start, she stood in front of him looking up into his face, her mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out. He just stood with his arms folded across his chest glaring at her.

She gulped a breath before finally speaking. Funny, now that she’d almost forced her way in here she didn’t know what to say. “I’m so, so sorry. I messed up.”

“You said that.”

“Well, I mean it.” She reached out for him and pulled him into her arms, hugging him close. He held himself stiffly at first but then she felt him relax into her and return the hug. She breathed a sigh of relief then. “I was just scared about what I saw and I panicked.”

“I understand,” Jon said into her hair. She could feel his warm breath on her head as he spoke. He dropped a soft kiss to her hair. “No, I actually don’t. I’m not quite up to speed on your whole sixth sense thing. But I suppose I might have done the same thing if I’d had a vision like that.” He pulled away slightly and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as he steered them towards the kitchen. He pulled a chair out for her and then went to one of the cabinets to take out two glasses and poured them each a small amount of whiskey from a bottle he had in the same cabinet.

They sat down at the table and Jon said, “All right. I’m ready to listen. Tell me more about the vision.”

Planting her hands firmly in her lap so that she wasn’t tempted to play with her ring, she went on to tell him what she had seen, not leaving out any of the details this time.

Jon took a big sip of his drink. He looked thoughtful. “Kyle was a really good friend of mine. He worked freelance as a private eye sometimes. There was this one murder case that I just couldn’t figure out. The murderer had left a cryptic poem at the scene of the crime.” He paused to take another sip of his drink. He put the glass down onto the table and started to roll it between his hands. Darcy could sense that telling this story was hard for him.

“I gave the poem to Kyle hoping he could figure something out. He always was one of the smartest men I know. A few days later he called me to tell me that he’d found something. The night that Kyle died I went over to his place to find out what he had learned.” He paused again to take another generous sip of the whiskey. “When I got there Kyle was lying on the floor really sick, or something. He died within seconds of my arrival. I was in shock and I blamed myself for his death. Then, on top of all that, I was investigated because I was on the scene when he died. It was finally ruled a suicide but it took a while and in the meantime my career suffered. I had to leave town. I just couldn’t stay after that.”

Jon went quiet then and Darcy leaned over and kissed him. “That must have been so difficult for you.” They sat in silence and Darcy moved her chair closer to lay her head on his shoulder.

Although Jon had explained the story something still felt off to Darcy. She’d told him everything. Was he holding back on her?

***

Darcy was alone in the bookstore the next day, quietly sitting and reading one of her favorite books. There had been no customers today. Sue had the day off and Darcy quite enjoyed having the bookstore to herself. It gave her time to think.

As she was flipping a page in her story she saw Millie appear out of the corner of her eye. The woman always appeared in a long dark dress, a heavy broach around her neck, her translucent gray hair done up in that modest bun she had preferred to wear. Darcy turned to the ghost of her great aunt and smiled. “You’re not going to throw a book at me, are you?”

Millie stared at her and then she eerily raised both hands. One hand was holding a letter, a sealed envelope. She could make out the name that it was addressed to. Detective Jon Tinker.

Jon.

Millie’s other hand was closed. Darcy took a step towards her, wanting to see that letter more clearly, but as she tried Millie just disappeared.

Darcy didn’t understand what was going on. Millie’s messages were always cryptic, never clear or direct. And now she was giving her a message about Jon.

***

Feeling very shaken up from seeing Millie, Darcy closed the bookstore and headed to the Bean There Bakery and Café for a cup of coffee to settle her nerves. She was hoping to have a chat with Helen. Talking to her friend always helped make her feel better. So when she saw that Lily was behind the counter she felt a little disappointed. It seemed that these days Helen was never around and Darcy missed her.

She moved up to the counter and gave Lily her order. Darcy knew Lily could tell how upset she was. Lily had to ask her twice how her day was going. Then when her coffee was ready, Darcy spilled it. 

Darcy felt like an idiot. “I’m sorry, Lily. It’s been a rough couple of days, I guess.”

Lily nodded. “I used to have days like that too. I went to the doctor and got some anxiety pills that have really helped me. My brother, Robbie, he borrows them sometimes too, when he gets stressed.” She winked at Darcy. “Don’t spread that around though, okay?”

Darcy smiled at her and said, “Thanks. I mean, I won’t. Isn’t that dangerous, though?”

Lily shrugged. “He only uses what he needs.” Then she was off to help another customer looking to order a cake for a birthday party.

Darcy appreciated the woman’s attempt to help, but she knew that anxiety meds weren’t what she needed. She had to confront her problems head on. She decided to go and talk to Jon about the letter. She’d kept silent about what she had seen the last time, and nearly put a permanent rift between herself and Jon. This time, she was going to try honesty.

Chapter Five

Darcy hurried to the police station hoping to catch Jon there. The desk sergeant smiled at her and told her Jon was inside. She found him working at his desk. Before she had a chance to talk to him, though, Grace greeted her from her own desk. “Hi sis. What’s up?”

Darcy smiled at her. “Hi Grace. I just wanted to talk to Jon.”

Grace gave her a knowing look. Jon stood up without hesitation, though, and Darcy didn’t have time to explain to her sister why she was suddenly all right with Jon again. He walked around to the front of the desk where Darcy was standing. “We’ll just go for a walk and…”

“No need for that,” Grace said. “I need to head on home anyway so I’ll get out of your hair.” Grace put the file away that she had been working on and grabbed her bag and coat. “I’ll see you two later,” she said with a smirk as she left the room.

Darcy shook her head at her sister and then turned back to Jon. Every other officer on duty at the moment was also out of the building, except for the desk sergeant up front who was separated from them by a wall. Now that they were more or less alone Darcy eyed Jon for a moment before she said, “Do you know anything about a letter? Something sent to you with your name on it? I think it might have something to do with my first vision.”

Jon went pale when she said that. “How did you know?” he whispered. She told him about Millie’s visit. He usually met her stories about Millie with scepticism but he didn’t even blink an eye this time. He went back to his desk and pulled a letter out of the top drawer. Darcy drew in a sharp breath. It was the letter from the vision, with his name on it.

“I got this the morning after our date, after the vision you had in the bathroom. I hadn’t told you yet, because…well, here.” He handed it to her

“Shouldn’t this be in an evidence bag?” She asked.

Jon nodded and said, “Yes you’re right.” Darcy realized then just how rattled he was by this.

She turned her attention back to the letter in her hand and carefully fished it out of the envelope. She held the letter by the edges as she read it.

It was a typed letter. A poem, actually, which read:

“Your time is up
We’ve reached the end
The wind is gone from your sails

I’ve killed others
Those who asked questions
Those who told lies and tall tales

I won’t need weapons, not a gun or a knife
If you try to find me, I’ll end your life
Stay away from me or you’ll meet your fate
With me there can be no clean slate

Lo ti distruggero”

“A young woman called Emily Ayers was killed in my home town of Pequot Lakes,” Jon said. “There were many poems found in her apartment but not in her hand writing. I was hell bent on finding her murderer and then when Kyle died, even more so. I never thought that Kyle killed himself, but everyone else did.” He paused for a moment. “Right before Kyle died, he said two words. Misty Hollow. That was the reason that I asked to transfer to this police department.”

Darcy fit that piece into the puzzle in her head. The murder Jon had been accused of had really been ruled a suicide. And from what Jon was saying, he hadn’t actually believed it to be a suicide so he had left Pequot Lakes to come to Misty Hollow because he thought the real murderer might actually be here. He’d been following a lead.

“I was hoping I would find clues about the murderer,” Jon said, confirming her train of thought, “but I haven’t been able to.” He speared his fingers through his hair. “I have been researching it and then I got this letter. I’m sure that the murderer lives in this town.”

“You don’t think they sent that to you from Pequot Lakes?”

Jon shook his head. “No. I’m sure that they’re here. And I think I’m getting close. I think I’ve spooked someone.”

“What about the last part of the poem, what does it mean?”

“It’s Italian for I will destroy you. It was also on a bunch of poems in the first murder victim’s apartment.”

Darcy reached up to kiss him. She hoped to reassure him a little. She could see how rattled he was. “We will figure it out.”

Here she was again, attracting trouble to herself. It just seemed as if she couldn’t stay away from the dark mysteries.

***

A night’s sleep didn’t make any of the problems popping up around Darcy seem any more distant. Walking into town from her home the next morning to meet Jon, she saw how the mist was starting to rise. That was never a good sign, but she’d gotten used to these mists rising whenever there was trouble in town. Trouble she always managed to find. She hoped that they could solve this crime quickly.

They, she had said. That made her smile a little. It wasn’t just her alone in this situation.  It was her and Jon. Together.

She started to walk briskly, in a hurry now to see Jon. She got to the police station in record time and found him engrossed in a report at his desk. She stopped just inside the doorway to look at him without him knowing and that familiar shiver that had nothing to do with her sixth sense rippled through her as she watched him. She felt her breath catch in her throat as he lifted his head and caught her with his eyes.

She moved quickly over to him, coming around his desk to lower her head and kiss him. It was a quick kiss, as she was aware of the few other people in the room who were more than a little interested in them. “Hello,” she said, staring into his eyes, seeing the same emotions written in them that she was feeling herself.