3 From the Ashes (8 page)

She got to the store long before Linda and Sarah and used the time to reread parts of Millie’s journal. Millie had written a detailed passage about recreating moments from people’s lives and delving further into their pasts. Darcy wondered if that technique would work for her.

The bell over the door jingled as Linda entered the store, followed by Sarah.

“Darcy, what did you find out?” Sarah asked immediately. She looked like she’d slept in the red sweater and dark blue jeans she had on.

Darcy led them over to one of the reading nooks and when they were all settled in chairs, she started with the last thing they had found out. “A few days before the fire, your father broke an arm and a leg.”

Sarah scrunched her face up. “Yes. He still walks with a limp. He always said it happened when he fell off a ladder. Why?”

“It may not have been accidental. Do you know of any reason why someone would want to hurt your family?”

“I have no idea. My father just owns a very small real estate business. There’s nothing much there that could have gotten him into trouble.”

“Could we maybe ask him?” Darcy suggested. “I wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t want to do it without asking you first. Does he even know you’ve been asking about your mother?”

Sarah leaned back in her chair, her hands in her lap. “Dad doesn’t like to talk about my mother. Every time I bring her up, he changes the subject. Maybe you’ll have better luck. You can come and meet him tonight, if you want. He had to go into work for a little bit today.”

“Good,” Darcy said, glad that Sarah was okay with it. She really didn’t know where else to turn.

“What about Millie?” Linda asked her. “Sarah told me about the photo. I knew those two were friends, but it never occurred to me to mention it.”

Darcy was surprised that Linda had known about that all this time when she herself was only just finding out. “Um. Well, it turns out that Millie and Sarah’s mom were good friends, like you say. I’m sure that’s all there was to it.”

She left the other part out, about Millie wanting to help Angelica out. No sense in mentioning it until she understood it better.

***

That evening Darcy rode her new bike over to visit Sarah and Louis at their home. Sarah answered the door to Darcy’s knock and brought her into the living room with a nervous smile. Entering the room Darcy felt like she had been transported into another era. Dark, antique wooden furniture was tastefully arranged against oak paneling on the walls. A mantel clock ticked softly above an empty and clean fire place. It was like the picture of a perfect home in a Norman Rockwell painting.

Louis sat in one of the chairs, a newspaper open on his lap. He was a middle aged man with dark hair that was graying at the temples and thick round glasses perched on his nose. He had a kindly face and after all of the introductions had taken place he smiled at Darcy before asking her if she would like some tea.

“That would be lovely, thank you Mister Fender.”

“Oh, please call me Louis. Mister Fender is my very elderly father.” He grinned at her and then left the room to make the tea. Sarah offered Darcy a seat and they sat on the wingback couch facing the chair Louis had been in, a low and wide coffee table between them. They chatted about mundane things until Louis returned a few minutes later with a tray laden with tea and cookies.

They chatted about the upcoming harvest festival while they sipped their tea. Darcy was itching to ask Louis the questions they had but she wanted Sarah to direct the conversation. This was her father, after all. Eventually Sarah cleared her throat and put her teacup down on the table.

“Dad, we wanted to ask you about…” Sarah looked at Darcy for encouragement and then continued. “About Mom and the fire at your house.”

Louis just looked at her and then put his cup down next to hers. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest defensively.

“We’ve talked about this before,” he said shortly.

“I’m trying to help Sarah learn more about her mother,” Darcy told him, hoping to ease his concern.

“I know who you are, Darcy. Everyone in town does. I know how you like to go poking into places you aren’t invited. Why would you want to dig into such a horrible time? That fire was the worst thing that happened to me and you need to stay out of it.” He punctuated his warning with a shake of his finger.

Darcy didn’t let his angry tone scare her. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Louis. Don’t you think Sarah has a right to know about her mother?”

He actually jumped up out of his chair at that point, scaring both women. His voice began to raise in volume as he spoke. “If Sarah has questions about her mother, I’ll be the one to answer them.”

Darcy wondered at his extreme reaction. It seemed totally out of place.

“Dad,” Sarah said quietly, “I have asked these questions. You won’t talk to me.”

He softened his tone a little as he turned to her, crossing his arms once again. “Some things are better left alone, Sarah. Your mother’s death is one of them.”

“Is my mother alive?”

That simple little question stopped him cold, his eyes popping, his mouth open with no sound coming out. With shaking hands he pushed his fingers through his hair. “Why would you ask that?”

“Dad we aren’t trying to upset you. Just, please answer me. Darcy thinks that my mother might still be alive.”

“Oh. Darcy thinks. I see. Well, Darcy needs to leave our family alone and not poke into things that are none of her business.”

“I asked her to do this,” Sarah started to explain.

“I don’t care!” Louis shouted. “I said leave it alone!”

Sarah got up in a hurry from the couch and rushed out of the room. Darcy stared at Louis, not sure what to do. “I think maybe I should leave. I didn’t mean to upset you Louis. Please…tell Sarah I’ll talk to her later.”

As she headed for the door Louis grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. His fingers dug into her when she tried to pull away from him.

“I can’t let you leave until you promise to drop this,” he said desperately. “You have to stop digging. You have to promise me you will stop.”

Darcy tried to keep herself calm. “Why? Why, Louis? What are you afraid I’ll find?”

He dropped her arm, realization of what he was doing written on his face, and then stepped away from her. “Nothing. There’s nothing to find, and you need to keep it that way. Now, please. Get out.”

Darcy found her way to the door and left as quickly as she could, more convinced than ever that in spite of what Louis said, there was a lot more going on here than anyone knew.

Chapter Twelve

The next morning Darcy cycled into town. She was thrilled that Jon had done this for her. There was a certain freedom in feeling the breeze in her hair as she rode and of being able to go wherever she wanted more quickly than just walking.

She was there before she knew it and took mental note to not leave home so early any more. She wouldn’t need the thirty minutes to walk to work anymore.

She jumped off the bike at the beginning of Main Street. Her plan was to walk around town for a while, maybe clear her head and figure out another direction to come at this mystery from. She saw tendrils of mist in the shadows, being burned off by the rising sun, and did her best to ignore them.

In the town square everyone was working hard to finish setting up for the harvest festival. She walked her bicycle around, looking at everyone’s booths, at the decorations, at the people rushing back and forth. Darcy saw Henrietta walking and waved to her. The elderly lady waved back and then steadied herself with her cane. Again, Darcy tried to guess the woman’s age. Old, was the best she could come up with, chuckling to herself.

When she passed by Helen’s stand she stopped to say hi. “Hello, Helen. Almost ready for the festival?”

Helen propped a hand on her hip and wiped her brow with her other hand. Her old button-up shirt and jeans were dusty and there were dark grass stains on the knees.  “Getting there Darcy, getting there. Oh my you have a bicycle. How wonderful. When did you get that?”

“Friday,” Darcy answered with a smile. “It was an early birthday present from Jon.”

A middle aged woman came up behind Helen, waiting to be noticed. “Oh,” Helen said finally. “Darcy, this is Elizabeth Archer my new baker. She’s a damn fine one too. She’s been a lifesaver for me, with all of my work as mayor now.”

Darcy held out her hand for Elizabeth to shake and noticed that the woman had several scars on the left side of her face. Long, auburn hair hid most of them, but they looked a lot like burn scars to Darcy.

Darcy’s mind jumped to conclusions. Here she was, trying to decipher a mystery of a burning house and a missing woman, and a new woman shows up in town at the same time, with burn marks on her skin. The face looked different, but people could change their appearance, especially if plastic surgery had been needed to remodel burned skin. And hair color was easily dyed.

Could it be?

“Where are you from Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, trying to rein in her suspicions and act natural.

“Around.” Was all she said. She stared at Darcy with hard eyes and then turned on her heel and walked away.

“I’m sorry about that, Darcy,” Helen said. “Elizabeth is a very private woman. She hasn’t even really opened up to me. But she can bake like nobody’s business. Here. Try one of Elizabeth’s muffins. It’s a new recipe.”

Sliding her eyes away from Elizabeth she took the proffered muffin lying on a brown paper napkin. “Thanks Helen. Lily isn’t working for you anymore?”

“Oh, no. After all that business with her brother, and him trying to kill her, she had a bit of a breakdown. Poor girl. She’s having a ‘holiday’ for an unspecified period of time.”

Helen put air quotes around the holiday part and Darcy knew that the poor girl was probably under a psychiatrist’s care somewhere. She couldn’t blame her after what had happened.

Darcy took a bite of the muffin. It was wonderful. “Oh my gosh this is delicious.”

“I told you they were good.” Helen grinned at her.

Darcy chatted a little longer as she finished the muffin. Then she said her goodbyes and hopped back on her bike. The town was beautiful this early in the morning, adorned with the colored leaves of Fall. The mists that lingered were the only thing that dampened the scenery but she could ignore them.

Mostly.

***

In her bookstore, the door locked and the closed sign out, Darcy flipped through the books she had purchased about the town’s history on her weekend with Jon. It was all interesting stuff. As she leafed the pages one at a time she was surprised to see a section labelled with Louis Fender’s family name. She read that a few decades ago Louis’ ancestors had owned practically the entire town and several of the surrounding towns. For a time, nearly everything around for miles in every direction was Misty Hollow.

That explained Louis having a job as a real estate agent. She wondered how much property he still owned from what his family had passed down generation to generation.

There was a knock at the door. Darcy looked up in confusion. No one would think the store was open. Not on a Sunday. Through the glass front of the doors she saw Sarah standing there, a light gray hoodie closed tightly against the slightly chill breeze. Darcy closed the book before going to let her in. This was another piece of the puzzle that didn’t quite fit and she wasn’t ready to throw something else at Sarah.

Sarah came in looking sheepish. “Hi Darcy. Look I’m really sorry for the way my father behaved last night. I’m not sure what got into him.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sarah. Obviously we hit a sore spot with him. It could be nothing more than he misses your mom.” Even as she said it, though, it didn’t sound right to Darcy.

Sarah nodded, her eyes focused away from Darcy. “That’s not why I’m here, though. I thought of something last night. It might mean nothing, or something, I don’t know, but our house has been broken into several times over the past few years.” She took a moment to shrug. “They never take anything, though. At least not that my dad has told me. The way he acted last night, I got to thinking maybe he’s hiding more from me than just what my mom was like. Maybe there was something taken that he isn’t telling me about? He reported it to the police each time,” she added, with an expectant glance at Darcy.

“Okay, I’ll ask Jon about it,” she said. “He can pull up the police reports.”

Chapter Thirteen

As soon as Darcy got home she went right to her phone and called Jon. He was off work today because of the weekend but he said he’d had some things to take care of, slyly pointing out that he wouldn’t have to take care of his own place if he lived where she did. She had kissed his cheek and called him cute and now here they were, with her calling him for help.

“Hey Sweet Baby,” he said to her, using his little pet name for her. “What’s up?”

She told him all about Sarah’s house getting broken into several times and that Louis had supposedly reported it each time.

“Hm,” he said, and she could hear him snacking on something. “Well, I only looked into the things that were happening in town around the time of the fire, not since, so I’ll check. First thing in the morning. Anything else?”

“No.” She sighed. “I wish there was. Oh. I was looking in those books I bought on our trip, you know, the history books? Turns out most of the area all around here once belonged to Louis Fender’s family. Including all of Misty Hollow.”

“Wow. They must have been rich. I wonder what happened to all that money?”

“Who knows. I’ve never had that kind of money to worry about.”

He laughed at her little joke but then cleared his throat. “By the way, I ran into Eileen today.” Darcy tensed when she heard her mother’s name. “She was acting strange, sneaking around town. It was like she didn’t want to be seen. She was startled when I said hello to her.”

“That might just be mom being mom.” Darcy thought about it though. She’d already decided her mother was acting odder than usual. She wasn’t going to burden Jon with that, though. She hoped it would just work itself out in time. Her mom couldn’t stay in Misty Hollow forever.