14 Christmas Spirit (9 page)

The snow.  That's right.  Darcy's head felt like an egg that had been cracked and she saw a drop of red fall past one eye.  She was hurt.  Maybe badly.  Someone was trying to kill them and they were running through the woods, through the snow, and there was some reason why that wouldn't work and her brain was trying to tell her what it was…

"Jon, our tracks."  It finally came to her.  Just like the animal trails she had seen earlier, the killer would be able to follow their tracks through the snow.

"I know," he said.  "Darcy, you're going to have to trust me."

I do, she wanted to say.  Instead she kept quiet and followed where he led.

After a few more minutes, Jon stopped.  They were in a part of the forest where the trees were mostly pines and they had blocked a lot of the snowfall with their thick needles.  There was only a light dusting on the ground here.  Their tracks were still showing, but not as clearly.

"Okay," he said.  "We're going to jump to our left, behind that stand of pines there.  Got it?  Jump as far as you can.  One, two, three."

She didn't have a chance to argue or question.  He jumped, both feet off the ground, a good seven or eight feet away from their trail.  Her jump wasn't quite as long but it did the trick.  They were able to work their way further back and crouch down and hide with nothing to show which way they had gone.

She could hear herself breathing.  She could hear her heart thudding in her ears, timed to the pulsing pain across her scalp.  The wind was a quiet rustle of branches around them.

Then, she heard the footsteps.

Jon put a finger up to his lips and waited for her to nod.  They needed to keep quiet.  The footsteps made a muted crunching in the snow, one at a time, as whoever was trying to kill them came closer.

And closer.

Then stopped.

Jon tensed his grip around the handle of his automatic.  Their attacker had been just out past the trees where they were hiding when he stopped.  Right about where their own footprints would have ended in the snow.  The man from the SUV was being cautious.

"I know you're out here," Darcy heard him say.  His voice was deep, easily carrying out through the woods around them.  "Why don't you show yourself and let me take JoEllen off your hands.  No one has to die here.  How's that sound, Detective Tinker?"

Darcy looked at Jon, her eyebrows scrunched up.  JoEllen?  Why would he be asking Jon to give up JoEllen.

Jon pointed at her.  This guy thought she was JoEllen.

How?
Darcy asked with a slight tilt of her head.

Jon nodded back toward the road, back to where their car was.  The guy out there must have followed them from Misty Hollow.  Seeing Jon with a female passenger, the guy mistook Darcy for his target.  This was the hitman gunning for JoEllen.

Wonderful
, Darcy said with a roll of her eyes.

"Come on out, Detective," the man said.  "It's the only smart play."

Rocking back on his heels, Jon slowly reached out for a stick, a broken twig from the pine trees they were sheltered behind.  When his hand closed around it he cocked his arm back and threw it in a high arc overhead.

When it came falling down through branches on the other side of where their attacker stood, pulling his attention that way, Jon jumped out from behind cover, gun first, shouting at the top of his lungs.  "Don't move, don’t move!"

Darcy cringed, waiting for what came next.

The gunshot was loud enough to make her jump.

"Jon!" she screamed, bolting out of hiding herself, stumbling to a stop when she saw Jon kneeling on top of the man from the SUV with the guy's face in the snow, pinning his arms behind his back.

"Darcy, get the handcuffs from my belt," he told her.

She breathed out a huge sigh of relief when she saw he wasn't hurt, then remembered what he had asked her to do and came over to unbutton the handcuffs from their holder at his left hip.  Good thing he always came prepared whenever he went to interview someone.

As she handed the cuffs over, he saw the look on her face.  "What?" he asked.  "I'm fine.  He took a shot at me before I clubbed him in the face with the handle of my gun."

"You hit him in the face?" she asked, surprised.  "With your gun?"

"I know, not exactly standard defensive tactics, but I figured we owed him for that cut to your head."

Darcy put a hand to her forehead, feeling the blood there.  She'd almost forgotten about her own injury in her haste to get to Jon.  Now that she'd been reminded, it lanced her with pain all over again.  A hospital would be a good idea.  A hospital, and probably some stitches.

Great.

Jon picked up the guy's gun from where it had fallen about five feet away, tucking it into the waistband of his pants.  "Okay, big guy.  Let's go."

Jon stood the man up.  He wobbled a little, blinking, his sunglasses lost in the snow.  A cut above his left eye oozed blood.  A bruise was already starting around it.

"I think you hit him harder than you meant to," Darcy remarked.

"Nope," he answered with a growl.  "I hit him just as hard as I meant to.  Come on, let's get back to our car."

"Are we sure he's alone?"  Darcy looked around slowly as she said it.  Her head was killing her, but she didn't want to walk into the crosshairs of another gun if she could help it.

"I'm sure," Jon told her.  "There's our tracks, and then this guy's.  No one else came into the woods.  If there had been a second shooter they would have come running when they heard the gunshot to make sure we didn't escape."

They started walking out, Jon helping the would-be killer walk.  It took a few minutes to get back to where their car was crashed.  Seeing it now, Darcy knew there was no way they would be driving it home.

Up at the shoulder of the road the SUV had been parked with only its driver's side tires still up on the pavement.  Jon's wrecked car wouldn't be visible to anyone just driving by.  All they would see was that black SUV parked on a lonely stretch of highway.  No one had stopped to see what was going on, because nothing looked out of the ordinary.

"I guess we're taking this guy's car back to town," Jon said, angling the guy up to the road.  "If he doesn't behave on the way, shoot him."

The guy hung his head, looking defeated.  Darcy kept seeing his eyes dart to her and knew what he was thinking.

"No, I'm not JoEllen," she said, harshly.  "Moron.  You should have made sure of your target before running us off the road."

"Looks like," he grumbled.  "Where you taking me, Detective?"

"Somewhere you can tell us all about who hired you," was Jon's reply.

"Ha!  I'm not talking to…to you," he said, his voice trailing off and his eyelids fluttering as he stumbled up the bank to the car.

"Don't you dare pass out on me," Jon warned him.  "I want you awake and talking."

"After all," Darcy added, "we've got so much to talk about."

After Jon made a phonecall, the State Police met them when they were about a half hour away from Misty Hollow.  Darcy was glad of it.  She wasn't sure if she could have shot this guy if she'd had to, but she really, really didn't want to find out.  The police escort made things a lot easier.

Darcy cleaned her cut up in the women's bathroom of the Misty Hollow police station.  The office's first aid kit had an antibacterial ointment and it turned out that once the cut was cleaned and dried, it wasn't even that big, and it had already stopped bleeding.  She still felt woozy but that would pass.  She hoped.

The guy from the SUV—Harris Browder, according to his driver's license—wasn't so lucky.  At Chief Daleson's request a doctor drove in from the hospital in Meadowood.  He reasoned that driving Browder there would create too many chances for him to try something or worse, escape.  No one wanted to let this guy go.  Not after he'd tried to kill Jon and Darcy.

So the doctor cleaned the cut to Browder's scalp and set a few stitches in place from a bag of supplies he'd brought with him.  With a hard glare levelled at Jon, he then left the station after giving Browder printed wound care instructions.

"Nice guy," Jon said after the doctor had left.  "Remind me not to pick him as my primary physician.  Ever."

"He doesn't know the whole story," Darcy reminded him.  Two Ibuprofens were helping her headache, but the stress of having been tracked through the woods and marked for death was still with her.  It wasn't exactly the first time in her life that had happened.  It just wasn't something a girl ever got used to.

She had to wonder if maybe JoEllen ever felt this way.  Maybe she should ask.

They were watching Browder through the one-way mirror as he sat in the same chair in the same interview room that Nielson had occupied just yesterday.  He sat with his back perfectly straight, staring straight ahead.  He was a tall man, slim but strong, with spiky purple-dyed hair and a faded scar on one cheek, and that strong chin.  Darcy frowned.  "He doesn't look like he's going to say much."

"Nope," Jon agreed.  "I'm going to try anyway.  You should get back home.  Talk to JoEllen.  Tell her what happened.  It's almost dinner time, anyway.  You should maybe bring something for you guys and Connor to eat before JoEllen goes stir crazy and goes wandering around town."

"You think she'd really do that?"

"After everything that's gone wrong today?" he asked her, like he was stating the obvious.  "Do you really want to tempt fate?"

"Good point."  She stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on his cheek.  "Don't stay out too late, Mister Tinker."

He went in the interview room, and Darcy watched for just a few seconds, smiling to herself to see her man in action.  Then she went back out front to go.

Her sister was in the officer's room, having a heated discussion with Chief Daleson.  Grace had started to let her dark hair grow long now that she was a mother, the one small change that she had allowed herself.  In all other respects she was as stern-faced and strict as ever.  Darcy smiled to herself.  There was a lot more of their mother in Grace than either woman would ever admit.

She saw Darcy coming and rushed over to give her a crushing hug.  "Sis, you have to stop getting into situations like this."

"Grace.  Can't breathe," Darcy laughed in a strangled kind of way.  When her sister let go she sucked in a dramatic breath.  "It wasn't like I planned on this, Grace.  Besides, Jon was there to help me."

"Save you, is more like it," Grace muttered, checking over Darcy's cut.  "Why was that guy after you, anyway?"

"The man," Chief Daleson answered in his gruff way, "was after a contract killer named JoEllen Meyers.  Mistook Darcy here for her.  Although, I'm a little confused about why this Browder guy thought Jon would be with a contract killer."

Darcy felt for her Aunt Millie's ring and twisted it as she answered.  She and Jon had prepared for this question, knowing it would come sooner or later.  "We met JoEllen Meyers this summer up at Bear Ridge, remember?  That whole deal with the Sheriff up there."

The Chief nodded.  "Right, right.  I remember.  Odd that someone would come looking for her now, don't you think?"

Darcy just shrugged.  That wasn't part of the story she and Jon had rehearsed.

Grace eyed her, and Darcy knew that look.  Grace could tell when Darcy wasn't telling the truth, or at least when she wasn't telling the whole truth. That's what sisters were for.

"Anyway, I need to go," Darcy said, already stepping towards the door.  "I want to check in with Izzy and see how things in the shop were today."

Officer Blake Cipes came up to them then, handing a report to Grace.  "Here you go, Detective.  Hey Darcy.  Heard about your trip up to Cider Hill.  A lot of excitement, huh?"

"I'll say," Darcy had to agree.

"Find anything out up there?" Blake asked.  "You went to talk to Megan's parents, right?"

"Yes.  They didn't have a lot to say, though."

"That's too bad.  I'd like to find whoever killed her."

"I'm sure you'll get your chance, rookie," Grace said, signing a page in the report and handing it back to Blake.  "For now, go make sure that's filed before the DA's office has a fit, all right?"

"Sure thing."  He turned on his heel to go, giving Darcy the opportunity she needed.

"I have to go, too.  I'll talk to you later, Grace, all right?  We can firm up our plans for Christmas dinner."

They hugged again, and Darcy was able to make her escape before anyone else asked about JoEllen Meyers.

Her house was within walking distance from the station, so getting home wouldn't be a problem.  First, she would make a detour up the street to Helen's shop, the Bean There Bakery and Café.  Maybe some take-out spaghetti with those homemade pretzel rolls that Darcy loved so much.  Mmm.  That sounded good.

Her bookstore was already closed.  She and Izzy had taken to closing up early on Mondays and Tuesdays, the first two days of the work week being their slowest in terms of sales.  It didn't make sense to stay open when they could go home to spend time with their families.  The other days of the week made up for closing early on days like this.

As Darcy walked along Main Street towards the café she could see a lot of activity taking place in the town square. Townsfolk were busy constructing the stage for Misty Hollow's annual Christmas pageant.

Last Christmas she and Jon had played Santa and Mrs. Claus which had been fun even with the added problem of the haunted Santa suit and them both coming close to be killed.

Darcy briefly wondered who was playing the famous couple this year. She realized she'd been so busy that she hadn't had time to be involved in the preparations for this year’s celebration.

The café was busy this close to the dinner hour.  Darcy waited patiently in line behind five other people until she could get to the counter and order her food.  Helen wasn't here, Elizabeth Archer explained to her, not exactly smiling but friendly in her own way. 

The woman looked at the cut on Darcy's forehead, but didn't say anything.

It would be a few minutes for Darcy's order, Elizabeth told her, because the next batch of pretzel rolls wasn't quite ready.  Darcy agreed to wait and found a seat at a corner table.

Waving to a few people who said hello to her, Darcy thought through everything they had on the case so far.  Every loud noise made her jump, and she had to remind herself that they had the man hired to kill JoEllen in custody.  For now, she was safe.

For now.

She thought about Nielson's statement to Jon, which matched up with the vision Darcy had gotten from touching his hand.  Blair's emotional words.  Megan's father, callously sure that his daughter was dead even though she was only listed as missing.  Megan's silent plea to Darcy from the screen of
Meet Joe Black.

Find me.

Darcy wished she knew where to look.  Even just a hint.  Maybe Jon was right.  Maybe she needed to do another communication and contact Megan again.  Not that there was any guarantee that would get them anything more.  Ghosts had their own way of communicating, and it was rarely straightforward or easy.  The image of Megan, pleading with her in that loud screaming voice, her eyes simply gone, wearing that Saxton University sweatshirt.  The sweatshirt changing to the purple hotel uniform.  Not much to go on.

Elizabeth waved a hand to Darcy to tell her that her order was ready.  She went up and got the tinfoil container of pasta and the paper sack of roles.  "Thanks, Elizabeth," she said, getting a nod in response.

Darcy was halfway out the café door before her thoughts caught up with her.  Megan had been wearing a college sweatshirt with the Saxton University name on it.  That was the college over in Oak Hollow.  A community college, small enough that it didn't even have on-campus housing.

But, Megan's father had said Megan never went to college.  Just like him, he'd said.

So why was Megan wearing a sweatshirt from a college she'd never gone to?

Unless she was wearing the hint that Darcy had been looking for all along.

***

"JoEllen?  I'm home," Darcy called out as she came through the front door of her house.

"In here!"

Kicking her shoes off, putting the food down on the kitchen table, Darcy followed the sound of JoEllen's voice into the living room.  She was about to start blurting out everything that had happened on the road from Cider Hill when she saw Izzy sitting on the couch next to JoEllen.  Lilly was on the floor with Connor, playing a game of Chutes and Ladders that Lilly must have brought over from her house.

"Uh, hi Izzy," Darcy said, making sure to put a smile on her face.

"Hi, Darcy.  What happened to your head?"

The cut still throbbed a little as Darcy touched it.  "I bumped it getting out of the car," she said to Izzy with a straight face.  "I didn't know you were coming over tonight."

"Well, if you'd ever get a cell phone," JoEllen said to her, "you would.  We called Jon already.  He said to tell you he'll be home in a few hours.  He also said you were bringing dinner."

"Yes.  I brought us spaghetti and meatballs and dinner rolls.  Izzy, do you and Lilly want to stay and eat with us?"

"Yes!" Lilly shouted from the floor, moving her piece across the board.

Izzy looked at Darcy apologetically.  "I hope that's all right?  Lilly's found a friend, apparently."

"Sure did," Connor agreed.  "She's got some fun games."

Lilly rolled her eyes. "You're such a boy."

Connor stuck his tongue out at her.  Yes, Darcy thought, that was the start of a beautiful friendship if ever she'd seen one.

"Always happy to have you two over, Izzy.  I hope Jo…I mean Ellen was good company?"  That was Darcy's way of asking what, exactly, JoEllen had been talking about.  They so should have taken the time to make up a cover story.  This cloak and dagger stuff was way out of Darcy's comfort zone.

"Oh, we've been talking for a few hours now," Izzy said brightly.  "She was telling me about how she used to work as a nurse, and about how you guys met on vacation up at Bear Ridge."

"We sure did."  Darcy gave a pointed look to JoEllen, who gave a slight shrug and met her gaze without turning away.  A contract killer claiming to be a nurse.  How in the world did JoEllen plan on pulling that one off?  "I tell you what.  The food is here and ready and I don't think Jon would mind if we dug into it before he got here.  Ellen, do you want to help me set the table?  If you don't mind watching the kids for a few minutes, Izzy."

"Sure thing," Darcy's friend said.

When she and JoEllen were alone in the kitchen, she leaned in close and whispered, "Did Jon tell you what happened when you called him?"

JoEllen nodded.  "Yes.  I'm so, so sorry Darcy.  I never wanted my troubles to come down on you."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you showed up on our doorstep," Darcy said, trying not to sound as angry as she felt.  "Look, JoEllen—"

"Ellen," she corrected Darcy again.

With a slow, slow breath, Darcy started again.  "Ellen.  This time we were lucky.  The guy nearly put both me and Jon in an early grave.  Do you even know how many people are coming after you?  Are we safe here?"

"Yes.  For now, at least.  My former employer wants me dead, and he has a lot of money to make things like that happen, but there aren't that many contract killers out there.  We're a dying breed."

"I can't say that I'm sorry to hear that," Darcy had to say.

"Well, me either, really.  The money's good, but the work…nothing you want to brag about, I can tell you that."  She paused, putting plates out on the table, and took a shaky breath.  "Anyway.  The guy you and Jon caught is someone I know from the trade.  So, one down."

"How many to go?"

JoEllen sighed again and shrugged.  "A handful.  I'm not saying I knew all of the people who will do a kill for money.  And there's always some stupid idiot willing to try his hand at it."

Darcy set glasses in place.  "In other words, no end in sight."