Til Death Do Us Part (A Darcy Sweet Cozy Mystery Book 16) (13 page)

Darcy held her breath.

In the dark, an arm reached in to turn on the light switch.  Garish white light flooded the room.

Jon held the gun at low ready but made sure it was clearly visible.  “Welcome home, Franklin.”

The scrawny teen went to bolt back outside, only to be stopped by Wilson and Grace.  The kid had nowhere to go.  He was trapped, and he knew it.

“What’s this all about?” Franklin grumped, trying to look tough, just as Jon was putting his gun back in its holster.

Jon held up a card that he took from the pocket of his suitcoat.  A baseball card in a protective plastic sleeve.  A Willie Mays rookie card, from 1951.

Franklin sagged back into Grace’s grip as she handcuffed him.  “You’re under arrest,” she told him.  “Although I probably didn’t have to say it, did I?”
 

***

Sergeant Vic Dunson wasn’t happy.

“I do not understand,” he said, thumping a finger down on Jon’s desk, “any of this.”

Darcy managed not to smile.  It wasn’t easy.  Jon and she had been in his office explaining their investigation to Vic for the last twenty minutes.  He was a smart man, and she knew he understood everything that had happened.  He was just mad that he’d been left out of the final loop that had closed the case for good.

So, Jon explained it to him again.

“The people involved were targeting very specific graves.”  It was as good a place to start as any, and Darcy nodded along with every word.  “They needed to know which graves to dig up.  The only way they could do that was by looking through the church records.  Franklin Hobart had access to those records.”

“See, right there,” Vic interrupted.  “That makes no sense.  I spoke to Pastor Hillier just like you did.  He said no one had access to those records except him and the church elders.”

“Along with a few others,” Jon added.

“Sure.  Whatever.  But he said no one had looked at the records for years.”

Jon shook his head.  “What he said, was that no one had
signed out
the records in years.  It’s okay, Vic.  We missed that just like you did.  People could still be looking at the records without signing them out.  They just had to be in the church to have access to them.”

“And you think this Franklin kid had access to those records?”

“We know he did.”

“How?”

“Through his community service.”

Darcy hadn’t put that part together until she saw the group of Leo’s friends coming to give him support here at the police station.  Jayne had said her son had met Stephanie and his other friends through his court ordered community service. 

Pastor Hillier had mentioned having volunteers working at the church.  That was what she had needed him to clarify earlier.  His volunteers included kids working off their community service.  The church liked giving people a fresh start.  That included Leo and Franklin and the others.  They were in the church at odd times, when no one else was around, and they had plenty of time to snoop through interesting things like the old church records.

“Once Franklin found the list of the people buried,” Jon continued, “and what they were buried with, the group of them concocted this scheme to make themselves some money.”

“But the judge’s kid had access to those same records,” Vic pointed out.  “Leo was in the same community service group.”

“That’s true,” Jon admitted.

“Then why haven’t we charged him with grave robbing like the others?”

“Because of something Darcy saw.”  Jon looked over at her, motioning for her to tell that part.

“See, when the group was here, I saw Stephanie and Franklin interacting.  They were more than just friendly.  They were together.  It’s something a woman would pick up on.”

Vic bristled at that, but he could hardly argue the point.

That’s when Darcy had realized the woman in the hat, the woman Beatrice had told about the baseball card, was actually Stephanie.  She always wore that baseball cap everywhere.  Except when she’d handed it to Franklin, here at the station.

It was Franklin’s cap.  Stephanie was only borrowing it, because the two of them were involved.

“When she came to the station,” Darcy said, “she was only here to make sure we were arresting Leo.  She wanted to know if we suspected her yet.  She even flat out called him a grave robber to cast more blame on him.”

“Leo was their patsy,” Jon explained.  “We found all of the other items from the cemetery when we executed the search warrants on the homes of Franklin and Stephanie.  Everything but the gold coins.  We’re pretty sure they sold those.  They wanted the kind of life they saw rich kid Leo having.  Stephanie flirted her way into Leo’s life and used him for his money.  When he wouldn’t give her the things she wanted quickly enough, she and Franklin figured out a way to make money for themselves and have Leo take the blame.  They gave him that necklace to wear, knowing someone would notice it eventually.  It would have worked, too, if it wasn’t for Darcy.”

Vic scowled at her.  She smiled back.

“Plus,” Jon added in for good measure, “I heard Franklin using these baseball metaphors.  If anyone was going to be interested in a rare baseball card, it was going to be him.”

“Jon really doesn’t like sports metaphors,” Darcy explained.

“I really don’t.”

Jon leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands over the reports and notes and files on his desk that laid out the whole messy affair.  “So that’s it.  Franklin’s under arrest on charges of cemetery desecration and felony grand larceny.  He gave a full statement after he realized we already knew everything.  Based on that, and the search warrants we’ve executed, we have Stephanie under arrest as well.  There’s two others from the group we’ll be arresting later today.  Then it’s all over but the paperwork.”

“Must be pretty proud of yourself,” Vic muttered angrily.  “Your little flyspeck town got one over on us.”

“I wasn’t trying to get anything over on anyone,” Jon said, his voice tired.  “We’re both on the same side here, Vic.  All I wanted was for the truth to come out, and for the people responsible to get caught.  That, and for the families of those people who were dug up to find some peace.”

“Whatever.”  The sergeant stood up, brushing off the sleeves of his uniform as though he were wiping away imaginary dust from the little flyspeck town, as he put it.  “You wanted the case, Chief, it’s yours.  Let me know if you need anything else from us.  I’m sure my superiors would love to give you whatever help you need.”

Darcy sighed.  Vic was never going to change.  Jon had been right when he said most police officers weren’t like Vic, but it didn’t make the man any easier to stomach.

“There’s still the matter of finding and arresting Phoebe Stewart’s step-father,” Jon pointed out.  “Your crime lab found the same evidence that Maven Sirles did on the bones of Phoebe’s mother.  She obviously didn’t die from a fall.  The man lied, and he looks good to me as a murder suspect.  He moved out of Misty Hollow a few years back.  Why don’t you take that case, Vic?  Your guys did all of the forensic work on it.”

“And your guys took Phoebe’s statement,” Vic countered.  “You didn’t need me on any of the rest of it.  Don’t try to dump work on me now, Chief.”

No, Vic was never going to change.  Shaking his head, Jon stood up slowly from his desk.  He took Darcy’s hand, then opened the door for Vic.  “We’ll see you out, Sergeant.”

“Don’t you two have a wedding to get ready for?”

“Not for a few days,” Jon told him.  “I have time to walk you out.”

Vic snorted, hearing the little jab in those words.

Out in the officer’s area, Darcy saw Grace sitting at her desk.  She was finishing up the paperwork to have Leo Phillips released.  He sat across from her, answering her questions, head hung low, his hands held tight to keep them from shaking.

“He doesn’t look happy,” Darcy said, pointing out the obvious.

“Not surprising,” Jon said, stopping with her to watch the young man for a moment.  “He just found out his girlfriend set him up.”

The door to the lobby opened with a loud buzzing sound, and Judge Jayne Phillips came inside.  She looked around the room, her gaze settling on her son, then turning to Jon with a question.  When he nodded, she walked across the crowded room and took a seat in the other chair at Grace’s desk.

She spoke a few words to her son.  He said something back that Darcy couldn’t hear.

Then slowly, they hugged each other.  A smile settled on Jayne’s face.

“I think that’s a good start,” Jon said.

Darcy couldn’t agree more.

Vic muttered under his breath, apparently not seeing what Darcy and Jon were seeing.  “I’ve got to go, Chief.  Thanks for your hospitality.  No offense, but I’m hoping we won’t see each other again.”

Jon shook Vic’s hand, and let it go at that with just one bit of advice.  “Be careful of the reporters out there, Sergeant.  They’ll eat you alive.”

After Vic had left and Jayne had taken her son home, Jon took his time making sure the paperwork was in order for the arraignments of Franklin and Stephanie and the others.  Then he took Darcy aside.

“We should head home, too,” he suggested.  “The guys have everything under control here.”

“They’re good people, Jon.”  Darcy stifled a yawn.  Hard to believe she was this tired already.  Well.  It had been another long day, in a string of long days.  “Your officers trust you.  You saw how hard they worked for you on this.”

“I couldn’t have asked for anything better.  From any of them.”

Darcy could hear the pride in his voice.  He deserved to be proud.  He was going to make a great police chief.

“Come on,” he said to her, tugging her hand.  “There’s a lot of reporters just standing around outside.  I want to give them a statement.”

Out on the front steps of the police station, Darcy blinked into the camera flashes as reporters began throwing out questions left and right.  She couldn’t believe it.  Didn’t these people have homes to go to?

Brianna Watson stood at the front of the group, and now she held her microphone out toward Jon.  “Chief Tinker?  Chief Tinker, do you have any comment on this terrible crime and the arrests your department has made?”

“I’m glad you asked me that, Miss Watson,” he said, waiting for quiet to settle over the crowd.  “I have something I’d like to say.”

He took Darcy’s hand once more and tugged her forward to stand with him in the spotlight.  “We,” he said to the assembled crowd, “are getting married.”

After a moment, the applause was deafening.

Jon looked amazing in his tuxedo.  Of course, Darcy always thought he looked good, but here, now, on their wedding day…he was gorgeous.

Her hands trembled as she walked down the aisle of Grace Community Church.  She was afraid people would see how the roses in her bouquet shook.  One foot in front of the other, in time to Wagner’s Wedding March, Darcy concentrated on smiling behind her veil and not tripping.

When she got up to the altar, Grace helped fix the train of her dress.  The music stopped on one long note.  Darcy had never known silence could be this complete.

Aaron stood next to Jon, with Connor on his other side, standing as tall as he could at ten years old and trying not to pull on the tight collar of his dress shirt.  Beside Grace, Izzy gave Darcy a wink.  Lilly stood next to her mother, looking extremely cute in her pink flower girl dress.  Darcy caught her stealing looks at Connor when she thought no one would see.

The wedding party was complete.  Pastor Hillier smiled at everyone gathered in the church, and opened his bible in the palm of his hand.

“Dearly beloved,” he began, “welcome to the wedding of Jon Tinker and Darcy Sweet.”

Darcy missed most of what he said.  She only had eyes for Jon.  They drank each other in, and she could not remember ever being this happy in her whole entire life.

He mouthed something to her, and she read his lips.

I love you
.

“Do you, Jon Tinker,” the pastor was saying, “take Darcy Sweet to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to hold, to honor and cherish, in sickness or in health, in sorrow and in joy, remembering that she is your better half, and you hers, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Jon said without hesitation.

Darcy glanced quickly out over the pews.  All of her friends from town were here.  Helen, Izzy and Linda and all the rest.  Sue Fisher had come from out of town with her boyfriend.  There in the front row, Darcy’s mother sat next to Jon’s.  She never knew there was this many people in her life who cared about her.

It made her even more nervous.

“Do you, Darcy Sweet—”

“I do,” she said immediately, her face heating up when she realized she’d cut the pastor off.

Laughter spread across the church, Pastor Hillier included.  “Usually people wait until they hear the terms of the agreement,” he said.

Darcy smiled a silly smile as he started the recitation over again.  “Do you take Jon to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to hold, to honor and cherish, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, remembering that he is your better half, and you his, as long as you both shall live?”

Just to be safe, she counted to three.  Then she said, “I do.”
 

***

The celebration lasted until almost midnight.  Music, champagne, and food filled everyone with happiness as they sat in chairs under a tent in the town center.  Darcy had thrown the bouquet and been thrilled to have Sue catch it.  She watched Connor dance with Lilly, holding the girl as if she were made of china and would break if he so much as took a deep breath.  She and Jon shared the first piece of cake.

The toast that Grace gave made her cry.  Aaron’s made her laugh.

Jon danced with his mother to Louis Armstrong singing
What A Wonderful World
.  Not to be outdone, Darcy danced with her mother while Lee Ann Womack sang
I Hope You Dance
.

As night fell, Darcy found a chair to sit in to rest her aching feet.  Jon found her not long after, a glass of champagne in each hand.  “Here you go, Mrs. Sweet.”

“Why, thank you Mister Tinker,” Darcy smiled up at him.  “Are you sorry I didn’t take your name?”

“No,” he answered honestly.  “I don’t think you’d be the same if you weren’t Darcy Sweet.”

He offered her one of the champagne glasses.  She set it aside on a table.  “I think I’ve had more than enough already.”

“My goal was to get you drunk before the wedding night.”

He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes, leaning over to whisper in his ear.  “You didn’t have to get me drunk.  You only had to take me home.”

“Then I think we should go home,” he whispered back.  “Don’t you?”

Biting her lower lip, nodding enthusiastically, she let him help her up out of the chair.  It took them forever to get away from the party.  Everyone stopped them to wish them well, or ask about the honeymoon trip they were going on, and Jon let Darcy pull him into one more dance.

Before they left, Darcy’s mother asked Jon if she could borrow her daughter.  Jon bowed, like a gentleman, and wandered off to talk with Grace and Aaron.

Eileen hugged Darcy fiercely, crying happy tears.  “You don’t know what it means to me,” she said, “to see you happy.  We’ve wasted so much time, you and I.  So much time apart from each other.  Please.  Promise me that won’t happen again.”

“I promise, mom.”  Darcy meant it, and it didn’t even surprise her when she said it.  She let go of their embrace, but only to tell her mom a secret she’d been holding onto.  “You know, this whole case started with two people who had been married more than fifty years.  The Salvatore’s.  Can you believe that?  They stayed together for most of their lives, and then when it was their time to go, their love for each other was so strong that they both died on the same day.”

She twisted her wedding ring on her finger, trying to decide how to put what she was feeling into words.

But her mother already understood.  “That’s the kind of love you want to have with Jon.”

“Yes.”  Darcy’s heart swelled.  That was exactly what she wanted.  She pulled her mother into another quick hug.  “I’m so glad you came.  It wouldn’t have felt right without you.”

“Thank you, Darcy.”  She stepped back, clearing her throat and wiping at her eyes.  “Now, go on.  You and your new husband need time to celebrate your day by yourselves.”

Lifting up the hem of her wedding dress, Darcy turned to see where Jon had gotten off to, and found Smudge sitting on a nearby chair, staring back at her.

“Hey, you,” Darcy said to him, bending down to scratch between his ears.  “It wouldn’t have been the same without you here, either.”

He purred loudly, and put his paw up on her hand.

“I love you too, Smudge.”
 

***

Deep in the night, with their clothes thrown around the bedroom floor and the sheets tangled around them, Darcy slept curled up next to Jon.  It had been the most perfect day, ever, without any doubt.  She slept without dreams.  A deep, deep sleep.

Until four-twenty-seven in the morning, when she woke up wanting a drink.

Shrugging out of the sheets, carefully moving Jon’s arm and slipping out from under his legs, Darcy got out of bed.  Her pajama bottoms were somewhere…ah.  There.  Slipping them on and cinching a robe around her waist, she tiptoed into the hallway and down into the kitchen.

There was water in the fridge.  Soda too, but she didn’t want caffeine.  She wanted to slide back into bed and back into that glorious sleep.  Two glasses of water later, her eyes were already starting to droop.

In the dim glow of the bulb from the refrigerator, she saw a dark shape take form in the corner of the kitchen.

Millie wasn’t wearing her hat tonight, but there was no mistaking that smile, or those kind eyes.  She stood there watching, waiting for Darcy to say something.

“Hi, Millie.  Guess what?  I’m married again.  I’m really sorry you didn’t get to meet Jon while you were alive.”  She shut the fridge, figuring that would be the end of the conversation.  “You would have liked Jon.  I know you and Jeff didn’t get along, and after that first marriage of mine ended I could see why, but I’m doing it right this time Millie.  I promise.”

The kitchen light snapped on.  Darcy spun around, looking to see if Jon or Ellen or maybe even Connor had come down after her, but there was no one in the kitchen.

Just her, and Great Aunt Millie.

The woman’s ghost stood in the same spot, in the corner by the countertop next to the sink.  Her smile had turned sad, and she obviously had more to say.

“What is it?” Darcy asked her.  “Millie, is something wrong?”

Darcy watched Millie’s hand push something forward on the counter.  It was big and dark and square shaped.  A book.  It was a book.

A wedding gift, Darcy could almost hear Millie saying.

Then her aunt slipped away and vanished.

Intrigued, Darcy picked the book up.  It was old, and musty, and the thick leather cover was peeling and scarred.  When she opened it up, the scent of aged paper filled her senses.

Darcy gasped.  The writing on the pages was faded and stained, hard to make out, but it was definitely Millie’s.  There was no mistaking that.

Flipping pages one at a time, Darcy found what she had been looking for near the middle of the book.

A single page had been torn away.  She could check it later, but she was sure the tear would match the edge of the page Smudge had already brought her.

This was the book Smudge had wanted her to find.  Millie hadn’t wanted Darcy to see it.  Her aunt had been furious at Smudge when the cat had shown Darcy even that one single page.

What had made Millie change her mind?  And what was this journal all about?

Darcy took the book back upstairs with her.  She knew she wasn’t going to get any more sleep tonight, but she was going to try anyway.

Another mystery had just wrapped itself into Darcy’s life.  She had to wonder where this one would lead her.

After all, she reminded herself, the mysterious is all around us.

--End--

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