Murder Down Under (A Darcy Sweet Cozy Mystery Book 17) (12 page)

“It sounds too good to pass up,” Jon told her.  “We accept.”

The phone at the desk rang.  Dell reached for it, and as she did it stopped ringing.  She picked it up anyway, listened for a moment, and then put the receiver back in place.

Darcy knew what the phone calls were.  Or at least, she suspected she did.  She could tell that Dell Powers felt the same way.  They shared the secret with silent look between them.

Leaving the phone with one last look, Dell came around the desk to where they were.  “Anyway.  Let’s get you some dinner.”

“Oh.”  Darcy had just remembered.  “That newspaper reporter, James?  He said to say hello.”

“Did he, now?” Dell asked, a wisp of a smile on her lips.

“Actually,” Jon said, “I think his exact words were, G’day.”

Dell laughed at him, hands up to her face.  “Why, Jon, you almost sounded like a true Aussie.  We’ll get you there yet.”

“Well, we’ve got a town to get back to.  We’d love to stay in Australia longer than a couple of weeks, but I think Misty Hollow needs us.”

“If you get into half the things there that you did here, I can believe it.”  She laughed again, to herself, and led them out to the dining room.

Dinner was quick, and amazing, and Dell and Rosie sat with them for company while they ate.  They talked about the murders and what would possibly prompt a man like Alec Beaudoin to kill.  They talked about Senior Sergeant Angus Cutter and everyone’s opinion of the man now that two major crimes had been solved in his town.

They talked about life here in Lakeshore in general, and what life was like back in Misty Hollow.  Darcy talked about her bookstore, and her friends, and even found ways to bring Smudge into the conversation.

Both Dell and Rosie were excited to say they had a full slate of boarders coming to the Inn, starting tomorrow.  The notoriety the town had earned in the papers for Roy’s arrest had brought business to their doors.  It would continue, now, with the charges brought against Alec.

It would all be short lived, until the next big thing happened in Australia, but for now the Pine Lake Inn would reap the benefits.  Darcy was glad that good things could come from the bad.

She was glad to have made friends here on this side of the world, too.

After dinner, Jon led her up to their room.  That was when they saw the man.  For just a moment, the only other guest of the Inn stood in the hallway and watched them.  He was a tall man with piercing eyes of silver gray.  He smiled, but the smile didn’t touch his eyes.

Then he opened the door to his door and disappeared inside.

Jon didn’t even seem to notice, other than to give the man a nod in greeting.  He was too intent on fulfilling his promise to Darcy.  A hot bath, time alone, and a long, long back massage that nearly put her to sleep resting against him.

She loved Australia.

“So what do you want to do tomorrow?” Jon asked her.

She opened her droopy eyelids to tiny slits.  “Is sleeping the whole day an option?”

“Not if we want to do most of the things we planned on.  We’ve already lost two days.”

“Not lost, just taken up with…unexpected events.”

“Well, that’s one way of putting it.  Still, there was a lot we wanted to do.  Remember?” 

His hands were still rubbing circles into those little knots to either side of her spine, and he added little kisses to the nape of her neck where she had pulled her hair forward, out of the way of his magic fingers.  “More of this would be nice.”

He laughed softly.  “Okay, deal.  Sleep, and a back rub.”

“And kissing,” she added.

“And penguins.”

“Yes!  Penguins.  We should call to see what times they have tours at this Bicheno place.  How are we going to get there?”

“Call a taxi,” he said, without missing a beat.

“Isn’t that what got us into this mess in the first place?”

“No.  You being who you are got us into this mess.  It also helped us solve the murder of three people.”  He kissed his way down the slope of her shoulder, making her skin tingle.  “I can’t wait to tell everybody this story.”

“You know that makes him a serial killer, right?” Darcy said absently, her voice getting drowsy.  “Alec, I mean.  You need to kill at least three people before you’re a serial killer.  Technically.”

“I know.  Guess what else I know.”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

His words melted into her, mixing with the warmth of the water and the relaxing motion of his hands.  This moment was perfect.

“Sleepy?” he asked.

She nodded, falling back against his chest.  “Take me to bed.”

That was all the encouragement he needed.

***

The next morning Darcy woke up rested and ready to take on the day.  No matter what she had told Jon about wanting to sleep the day away, now she couldn’t bear the thought of spending another minute in bed.  She wanted to explore and find new and amazing places to remember from their trip here.  Bouncing up onto her knees she pushed and shook Jon’s slumbering form under the blankets.

“Wake up!  Wake up!  Let’s go do something!”

“Hmph-mph,” was his answer.  She wasn’t sure it was English.

Leaving him there to sleep for a few minutes longer she jumped out of bed in his old t-shirt and her pajama shorts and made for the bathroom.  She was going to get ready, right now, and then drag him outside if she had to.

In the bathroom, Smudge was waiting for her on the sink top.

“Well.  Imagine finding you here,” she laughed.  “How was your flight?”

He twitched an ear at her joke.  It was hard to say if he smiled with that kitty-cat face of his.  Curling his tail around his paws where he sat, he cleared his throat.  “First, I want you to know that it wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh, Smudge, what did you do now?”  Somewhere in the most distant parts of her consciousness she knew this was a dream, but by now she’d learned to just go with it.  She’d wake up soon enough and find herself still lying in bed with Jon, and that wasn’t a bad thing as far as she was concerned.  So for now, she was having a conversation with her cat.  “Did you knock that vase of flowers in the kitchen over again?”

“Uh, no.  Not this time.”  He shifted his feet, staring at her with narrowed eyes.  “And you have no proof I did it the last time.”

She laughed and scratched between his ears.  “I miss you, Smudge.”

“Me too.  Ellen is good people but she doesn’t know much about cats.”

“Give her time.  She’ll learn it’s not just about keeping your dish full.”  She looked around, half expecting Millie to be here, too.  There was just her and Smudge.

“Your aunt didn’t come this time,” Smudge explained.  She’s, uh, busy.”

Busy?  What could her aunt’s ghost possibly be doing?

“Nevermind that,” Smudge spoke directly to her unspoken question.  “I just want you to know it isn’t my fault.”

Now she was getting worried.  “Smudge.  What are you talking about?  What isn’t your fault?”

He sighed a breath out through his nose.  “The way she died.  It wasn’t my fault.”

“Smudge, you were just a kitten when Aunt Millie died.  Of course it wasn’t your fault.”  Suddenly she didn’t like this dream.  She wanted it to be over.  She wanted to go watch penguins with Jon.  She wanted to go to Kangaroo Island and swim in the waters around the Great Barrier Reef.  She wanted to be anywhere, but here.

Smudge looked away from her and was silent for a long moment.  “I have to go,” he finally said.

“Wait, Smudge.  Tell me what you’re talking about.  What wasn’t your fault?”

One paw in the air, face still turned away from her, he flicked his tail fitfully.  “I knew he was bad.  I knew it, and I couldn’t stop him.”  He turned to her again now, and she could almost see the pain reflecting in his green eyes.  “I’ve done a lot of good things in Misty Hollow, Darcy.  Tried to be a good cat.  But that day…I knew he was bad, and I couldn’t stop him.”

Before she could ask him anything else, he turned and leapt from the sink to the small window set high up in the bathroom wall.  He vanished right through the glass.  He was gone.

“Hey there,” Jon said from behind her, his hands sliding around her waist.  “Good morning.”

Darcy jumped, suddenly awake for real and standing in the bathroom with her husband.  For a moment she panicked, not knowing if the dream was over or if she was still in its grip.  But Jon’s arms were warm, and he was a solid comfort that she could feel, and his voice in her ear told her to be careful or she’d fall.

This was real.  She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten in here from the bed, but it was real.  Smudge and the dream were gone.  The things he’d said…  Darcy ran them through in her mind again.  What was he talking about?  Smudge couldn’t stop him, he’d said.  On that day, he couldn’t stop him.

Couldn’t stop who?

“So,” Jon said to her, “since you’re up already do you want to get ready and go exploring?”

She did.  She really did.  Australia was waiting and she had this time to spend with her husband and she didn’t want to waste any more of it.

What Smudge had said to her would have to wait.  Maybe when she got back to Misty Hollow, she’d ask him herself.  She had no doubt that it meant something, and that it was important, but standing here right now she had no idea what.

Jon kissed her gently, and it made her put everything else aside.  For now, she’d done enough mystery solving.  They were on their honeymoon, after all.

Australia was waiting.

-End-

Keep reading for a sneak peek into the new Pine Lake Inn Cozy Mystery Series!

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I think what I like most about Lakeshore, is how peaceful it is.

A sleepy little community in the middle of Tasmania, settled among the pines, nestled at the edge of three lakes that feed into each other and help keep the climate mild and cool.  The breeze off those lakes is right nice.  I like the way it smells.  It reminds me of my childhood, as a little girl growing up in Sydney, with the ocean at my doorstep.  These lakes here aren’t the ocean, but they’re aces just the same.

We’ve got fine folks who live here, too.  Make a living off the tourists who come to spend some time here.  Get people in from all over the world.  Even as far away as America and Canada.  Nice to meet new friends.  ‘Course, I run the only Inn here in town.  The Pine Lake Inn.  Put it right on the water.  Open year round.  A quiet place, in a quiet town.

Until something happens.

Today started like any other day for me and Rosie.  She’d cooked up some amazing Jumbuck stew to serve the guests for lunch.  Rosie’s good that way.  That’s why she runs the kitchen side of the Inn and I run the business side.  Ever since University, it’s been our dream to own our own Inn.  Now we do.  Doing a good bit of business for ourselves, too.  That’s saying something in this economy.

So life was going on as usual, with the lunch made and the reservations set for the next few days, and George the handyman even managing to fix that leaky faucet in room 204.  The Pine Lake Inn’s got three floors, two for guest rooms and then the bottom floor for the dining room and the commons area.  We have rooms for fifteen boarders, then there’s my room at the end of the third floor.  One of the perks of being the owner.

Rosie’s got her own place in town.  She and that husband of hers need the privacy.  Trying to make a family, they are.  Not something that happens overnight.

“I’m telling you,” Rosie was saying to me, “it’s not for lack of trying.  Poor Kingston.  I wear the poor man out almost every night.”

“Rosie!” I laugh, hooking a strand of my long hair behind my ear, feeling my cheeks heat up even though we’ve had this talk more than once.  That’s how close we are.  Best friends forever, is how the kids say it nowadays.  ‘Course, I haven’t been a kid for a while now.  Can’t hardly see twenty in the rearview, as they say.  Forty-three was the birthday I celebrated last.  Been a good life so far.  Had my ups and downs, but then doesn’t everyone?

We’re setting tables in the dining room.  Lunch hasn’t started yet.  We begin serving guests at eleven o’clock for lunch, and it’s only half past ten now.  Rosie is always happy to make something for the guests at any hour, but the brochure says eleven so most people don’t come down from their rooms till close to that time.  Gives me and her a little time to ourselves to talk about the state of affairs in Australia in general and our own lives, too.

“You think maybe my Mister would be more into it if I lost me a few pounds?” Rosie asks me.  She stands up straight in her dark slacks and her short white chef’s coat, and runs her hands down her plump form. 

I think Rosie looks just fine the way she is.  She’s a real woman, not one of those airbrushed models in the mags.  She’s the same age I am, with to-die-for brown eyes and hair to match, an oval face with a cute little mouth and a beauty mark on her left cheek.  Any man hereabouts would be lucky to have her as a wife.  She’s always smiling and happy.  I know for a fact that her Kingston can’t get enough of her.

Kind of like my ex-husband had been with me.

Clearing my throat to disperse sad memories, I wink at Rosie.  “Your aces, Rosie.  Men have fought wars over women like you.  I wouldn’t worry about making your Mister be more interested in you.  Just show up tonight with a bottle of ale.  Clothes optional.”

“Oh, go on with ya.”  It was Rosie’s turn to twitter with laughter, and I could hear her humming away as we worked after that.

The kitchen is just off the main foyer, where the registration desk stands with the phone and computer and sign-in book.  The phone starts ringing just as we finish setting plates out on the last table.  They’re the new ones I bought with the floral pattern to match the wallpaper.  They look great, I think, but for now I’m sure Rosie can handle the rest of the setting up.  I step out to the desk to answer the phone.

“If that’s our ghost, tell him I say hello!” Rosie calls after me.

The “ghost” is our running joke.  Sometimes the phone rings and there’s no one there.  Things like that happen.  Had us a guest a few months back, though, who thought maybe it was something more.  Miss Darcy Sweet sure did stir up an interesting time in our sleepy little town, but now things were back to normal, and a phone was just a phone.

I pick up the gray receiver on the sixth ring, just before it would have went to voicemail.  “G’day, Pine Lake Inn.  How can I help you?”

There was a short pause before the person on the other end of the line said anything.  “Dell?  Is that you?  It’s me, Jessica.”

I remember that voice.  “Jessica?  Jessica Sapp?  Lord have mercy, I sure wasn’t expecting to hear from you.  How are you?”

“Starving, actually.  It’s a bugger of a long drive from Hobart.  Am I even on the right road?”

Was she even on the right…?  Oh!  “Are you coming here?”

“Sure am.  In fact, I’m only thirty minutes away from ya.  I think.  GPS is on the fritz.  I got off at Geeveston onto Huon but this is a blooming donkey path!”

I laugh at her.  “That’s the road.  Only one in.  Follow it in.  The streets in town are paved.  Where are you staying?”

Her voice turned to static for a moment before it cleared again.  “…not like the old days.  Don’t know as many blokes there in town like I used to.”

“Are you on your mobile while you’re talking?  Pull over, dear.  You keep dropping out.”

“Now, Dell, I’d never do something illegal.  This is me.”

I could hear the smile in her voice.  Back in university with me and Rosie, Jessica was always a bit of a hellraiser.  She’d gotten suspended from the dorms at one point.  Had every guy chasing after her, too.  Nobody’d ever accuse her of being a straight arrow.  “Don’t give it a thought, Jess.  You’ll stay here.  We’ve got a few empty rooms.  My treat.”

“Dell, I couldn’t…” 

The line went static again, and I waited.

In the static I was sure I heard a man’s voice, whispering something, but I couldn’t make out what.

“Ya there?” Jess asked, suddenly loud and clear.

“Sure am.  You have someone with you?”

“No, just me.  Why?”

Huh.  “Sorry, musta been the white noise.  Your call dropped for a bit.”

“I was saying I couldn’t let ya give me a room without paying.  Won’t hear of it.  I’ve got me enough quid packed away to choke a horse.  Book me a room, but I’ll be paying my bill.”

I roll my eyes.  There was no arguing with Jess when her mind was made up.  Once she set her heart on something, she made a straight line for it and never turned left or right.  “Okay, Jess.  We’ll set you up in a room.  Come straight here when you’re in.  All right?”

Once I gave her the directions, we said our goodbyes and hung up.  Excitement mixed with other emotions inside of my brain.  It had been years since me and Jess had seen each other, and I knew I’d changed.  A lot can happen to people in a lifetime.  She sounded like she’d been successful, insisting on paying for the room, talking about how much money she had, and all that.  Jess had always landed on her feet no matter how much trouble she got into.

Then there was me, and Rosie, and our Inn.  Looking around me now, I see the dark wood paneling and the hardwood floors, the handwoven throw rugs, the little fireplace over in the corner.  I see the pictures framed on the walls showing beautiful scenes of the area around Lakeshore, or landmarks from all over Australia like Sydney’s Opera House and the Uluru monolith.  Every wall has something to show, except for that one space where nothing will hang.  Ever.

I can’t see the commons area from here, but I have it memorized by heart.  Tall windows, a warm and inviting space filled with overstuffed chairs and a television and books and games for guests to play.  The dining room and kitchens are on the other side of the bottom floor.  Above me are the guest rooms, each one unique and tidy and perfect.

This is my Inn.  Mine, and Rosie’s.  I may not be wildly successful and rich, but I’m proud of the place.  We created something special here.  No reason to be disappointed in this place.

Maybe it was myself I was disappointed in, I thought, not realizing I was feeling that little bit of jealousy until I’d heard my own thoughts.  There’s a mirror over on the wall, left of the entrance to the commons area.  It’s an ornate thing with a crafted frame.  In its reflection, I see my face.

It’s not an old face, no matter how old I feel some days.  The freckles across the bridge of my nose and my cheeks will always keep me looking young.  So does the deep auburn hair that spills down over my shoulders.  The purple top I wear is tight in all the right places, and my wide black belt accentuates slim hips and a stomach I have to work to keep flat, nowadays.  I’ve heard my body compared to a twenty-year old’s, and I’ll take that compliment.  My husband used to tell me that, and other things too, in the middle of the night…

Ahem.  Hubby’s gone now, of course.  Gone a poof to points unknown.  Gone four years last week, as a matter of fact.  On my birthday.  Never came back.  Got one of those uncontested divorces for Christmas last year, and what else could I do?  Sad as that makes me, I remember the good times with him, and I move on.

One of my clear green eyes winks back at me.  “Don’t matter what other people think.  You’re beautiful, Adelle Powers.  Simply beautiful.”

Finally, I smile, knowing that I’m being foolish anyway.  Jessica is a friend.  No matter how successful she’s become, she wouldn’t hold it against me even if I was broke and ugly.  Which I’m not.  So.

Whistling a tune, I head back into the kitchen to let Rosie know that Jess is coming.  She’ll be happy to hear it, if for no other reason than it means one more meal to prepare in her kitchen.

On the way to the kitchen a shadow passes down the stairs.  Shadows don’t usually move.  Stopping quick enough that my black sneakers squeak against the floorboards, I turn, and see the shadow standing still, watching me.