Murder Down Under (A Darcy Sweet Cozy Mystery Book 17) (2 page)

“So what do you do, Miss Darcy?” the taxi driver asked her.

“I own my own bookstore.  It was my Great Aunt’s before she passed away.”

“That sounds keen.  Never got into reading much.  Don’t have the time for it.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” she told him.  “Aren’t there any bookstores in Lakeshore?”

“Just the one.  Nice little place, I suppose, though I can’t say I’ve been in it much.  The woman what runs it’s a real crank.  I watch the tele when I have me the chance.  Ever seen a show called ‘This Is Not My Life?’  No?  Local channel eight plays it at ten.  You should check it out.  One of my favs.”

Darcy didn’t plan on wasting much of her time on television while she was here.  If she and Jon were going to be alone in their room, she had plans in mind that definitely did not include watching TV.

The scenery they passed gave them amazing views of mountains and grass covered hills.  Little roadside stands had signs for fresh jams and breads.  The line on the pavement alternated between yellow and white and then disappeared altogether as Roy talked about growing up “just round the bend” from here.  He talked about sheep running wild and birds making nests right outside his window and a little girl he knew back then but was too shy to even talk to.

Darcy listened to his stories and lost all track of time.  She was glad that Roy lived in Lakeshore.  She really hoped they would have the chance to meet up again and talk some more.

Pretty soon, the road became dirt and stone and Roy had to slow down as the taxi bounced and rocked over the uneven surface.  “Worth the drive,” he promised.  “Not far now.  Tell you what.  Let’s shut this thing right off.”

He turned off the meter, even though Jon and Darcy both told him it was fine.  “No, can’t hear of it.  Not your fault Lakeshore is out in the great nowhere like this.  You’re in Hartz Mountains National Park, by the by.  Twin Mountains.  You can just see them.  Right…there.”

Darcy saw the peaks, just over the tops of the trees.  Just a glimpse, then they were gone again.  “Are there tours of the park?” she asked.

“There’s not so much to see, really.”  Roy scratched at one cheek.  “Hiking, I wager.  And rocks.  Lots and lots of rocks.  It’s over two hours to the peak.  Not for the faint of heart.  You two like hiking?”

Darcy exchanged a look with Jon.  Hiking was fine, as long as there wasn’t a dead body at the end of the trail.  The events at Bear Ridge, months ago now, came back to her mind.  That was where they had first met Ellen Gless, formerly JoEllen Meyers the infamous contract killer.  JoEllen Meyers still had one active warrant out for her arrest.  Ellen Gless, on the other hand, was turning her life around and staying at Jon and Darcy’s house back in Misty Hollow.

There was a very good reason for Ellen to give up her old life and turn things around.  Her ten year old son was depending on her.

They didn’t mind giving her a place to basically hide out while she straightened out her past.  They’d become good friends.  Ellen was even taking care of Darcy’s black and white tomcat while she was away here in Australia. 

Smudge.  Darcy smiled.  Somebody had to watch the big goofball.  Not that he couldn’t take care of himself.  He always got into and out of the house in some secret way of his own, whenever the mood struck him.  Still, Darcy felt better knowing that Ellen would be there to give him his catfood and maybe even rub his tummy every once in a while.

“Just a few clicks away,” Roy said to them.  “Ready to take a sleep for a bit?”

“Definitely,” Darcy agreed.  “Do you have a card, Roy?  For when we need a taxi again?”

“Do better than that.  Let me give you the number to me mobile.  You can give me yours.  Sound ripper to you?”

“I don’t have a cell phone,” Darcy told him.

“Strewth?”  Roy sounded incredulous.  “Hard to imagine anyone from the States without a mobile.  How do ya get by?”

“I manage,” was all she told him.  She wasn’t about to explain how ghosts could figure out how to use cell phones, or that they always managed to get her number no matter how often she changed it.

“I have one,” Jon said, coming to her rescue.  “Use mine.”

As soon as they finished exchanging numbers the taxi rounded a curve and Roy pointed off ahead of them, down the dirt road, to a collection of buildings set among tall, narrow pine trees at the edge of a lake.

“There she is, Mates.  Lakeshore.  My home.”

Darcy looked where Roy was pointing.  The road meandered into the middle of several widely spaced homes, most of them a single story tall, almost all of them painted white.  Here and there side streets turned off at odd angles that gave little glimpses of the rest of the town.

The taxi suddenly bumped under them.  Just outside of town the road became pavement again, leading them into streets bordered by wide sidewalks where people walked about or stood talking in groups.  Darcy saw a little corner shop with signs in the tall windows that read “Food Here” and “Tobacco” and “Medicines—Traditional and Modern.”

That last part definitely caught her attention.

“Ah, where are me manners?” Roy chuckled.  “I should be giving you a tour.  On your left is the Thirsty Roo, local pub and eatery.  Quick tip.  Don’t try the bangers and mash.  Not for the faint of heart.”

The Thirsty Roo was painted an awful green color, with swinging doors like saloons had in the old black and white movies.  Two guys stood out front, tall glasses of beer in their hands, watching the taxi go by.

“Hey, guys,” Roy waved.  Darcy noticed he hadn’t rolled the window down to greet them.  “Now, over there is Mrs. Havernathy’s.  She makes a soursop jam to die for.  Teaches music lessons, too.  Right nice old lady.  That place there belonged to me Great Uncle Noah, rest his soul.  Arthur Loren owns it now.  Crazy bird, he is, always out digging in the dirt.  Thinks he’s gonna strike gold.”

Darcy listened to more stories about local residents as the taxi continued to drive them down the main street.  A building with a high peaked roof on their right came into view.  A wooden cross was fixed above the front door, made from crooked tree limbs about as thick around as her arm.  The siding was falling off in places.  A black board set up on a post in the front yard declared Sunday worship was at ten AM, all were welcome.

“That’s Pastor Albright’s church,” Roy said, noticing where her attention had gone.  “Hard to believe he keeps it going.  Not too many in Lakeshore interested in what he’s got to say.”

“Is that him on the steps?” Darcy asked.  A tall man dressed all in black with a gaunt face, holding a wooden cane, waved to them as they passed.

“Who’s that now?” Roy asked, turning back to look over his shoulder.  “Nobody there, Miss Darcy.”

Looking back again herself, she saw that whoever the man had been, he was gone now.  Oh well.  There was so much to see here.  The website had promised a quaint little town to explore, and she could see how true that was.  She and Jon were only here for a week but she was sure they could spend one whole day of that right here in Lakeshore.

They came to a spot where the street widened to a circle flowing around a three-tiered fountain.  Water gurgled out of the top in a very lethargic stream maybe a few inches high, then drained over the edges of the three scalloped bowls below in a slow trickle.  The fountain was painted white, to match the town.

“Fountain used to spray ten, maybe twenty feet in the air when I was a nipper.  Not sure why they don’t fix it up.”  Roy sounded disappointed.  Then he was smiling again as he took a right turn down Fenlong Street.  “There’s your destination, Mates.  Pine Lake Inn.”

The street dipped down at a severe angle and at the end of it all Darcy could see was dark blue water.  There was a very small barrier set up at the end, a wooden plank nailed between two posts that were weathered and gray.  Two reflective red diamonds were attached in the middle of it.  Darcy doubted it could have stopped a runaway snail.  Let alone, say, a taxi that might have brake failure at any moment and send them crashing down into the middle of a lake in Tasmania.

Roy winked at her in the rearview mirror.  He obviously knew what she was thinking.

Almost to that dilapidated barricade, Roy turned left into a cobblestone drive that leveled itself out from the slope of Fenlong Street.  Darcy felt much better for having the car balanced evenly on its four wheels. 

The driveway took them up to the front of a gorgeous three story building.  It was a sunflower yellow, in startling contrast to the white of everything else, with dark green trim around its many windows and the front door.  It was a secluded spot, hidden among the towering evergreen trees.  The Pine Lake Inn looked exactly like it had in the photos Darcy had seen.

The main part of the house was to the left of the front porch.  Tall sun windows would let in warmth and light to the common area, where there was supposed to be puzzles and games available, as well as a television and DVD library.  The second and third story were a series of smaller windows.  Those would be the rooms.  The website had said there were fifteen of them, all with a view of the lake that bent around the backside of the Inn along the shore as well.

Jon took her hand in his.  “You like it?”

“I can’t imagine a better place to spend some time with my new husband.”  She kissed his cheek, then whispered in his ear, “I love you.”

“Now, you two,” Roy chided in a good natured way.  “Save that for yer room, right?”

Jon paid the fare while Darcy started getting their luggage out of the open trunk.  Roy was at her elbow a few seconds later, taking them away from her.  “All part of the service, Miss Darcy.  So, you’re a bookstore owner.  Entrepreneur, and all that.  What’s yer bag then, Jon?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before Jon answered.  “I’m the Chief of Police back where we live.”

Roy tripped over something in the walkway, stumbling forward before he could right himself under the weight of all those bags.  “Ah.  A lawman, are ya?  That’s good.  That’s a right nice profession, that is.  I’ll, uh, I’ll see ya up the stairs and inside the place but then I have to be off.  Need to get back to my fares.  You know how it is.”

Jon nodded, but didn’t answer.  Darcy saw the way the lines around his mouth tightened and his eyes fixed on the stairs of the front porch.  They were used to people acting differently around them once they knew what Jon did for a living.  Even across an entire ocean, it seemed, he could still make people nervous just by mentioning where he worked.

Imagine if they knew she could talk to ghosts.  At least she got to keep that secret to herself.  Mostly. 

She walked closer to him, bumping her hip into his.  “Hey,” she said in a low voice.  “You know I still love you.”

His face softened as he put his arm around her shoulder.  “Then that’s all I need.”

Together, they walked through the door with its rounded archway, into the Pine Lake Inn.

Which was when the walls came crashing down.

Smash!

Darcy actually ducked, even though she wasn’t sure what had just made that horrendous noise.  The world was still for a handful of seconds.

“I told you it wouldn’t stay up there.”

On the other side of the entranceway, a wide space of dark wood paneling and hardwood floors and woven rugs, a registration desk stood in front of pigeonhole mailboxes.  A middle aged woman stood there, leaning her crossed arms on top of the desk, shaking her head slowly back and forth.  Long auburn hair spilled forward over her shoulders to fall across a sleeveless blouse almost the same deep green color as her eyes.  When she saw Roy and her and Jon standing there, she stood up and pulled the unruly hair back in place again.

“Greetings all,” she said to them.  “Welcome to the Pine Lake Inn.  Hey, Roy.  Got me some new guests, did you?”

Her accent wasn’t anywhere near as heavy as Roy’s.  He nodded to her, already putting down the luggage he had carried in.  “Sure do, Dell.  They, uh, already booked themselves a room.  This here is Miss Darcy Sweet, and Mister Jon Tinker.  Darcy here owns her own bookstore.  Jon’s a cop.  Like your son.  Er, how is your Kevin?”

Dell lowered her eyelids in a lazy way.  “He’s right as rain, Roy, thanks for asking.  Hasn’t had to arrest any taxicab drivers in a dog’s age.”

With a nervous laugh, Roy turned and nearly ran out the front door.

“That man needs to be on new meds,” was the comment from the other person in the room, a man with gray hair wearing blue denim overalls, heavy boots, and a tool belt around his waist.  He had been busy sweeping up broken glass while Roy introduced them to Dell.  A large, framed picture of a man with a distinguished handlebar mustache sat propped up against the wall.  The frame was bent now, and only shards of glass remained intact at the edges. 

This was what had come crashing down.  Darcy felt foolish.  Just a painting falling to the floor.  She needed to relax.  That was what they were here for, after all.

Now the handyman swept the broken bits into a dustpan and shouldered his broom.  “Anyway, Dell, I’ll try hanging this picture again.  Must be something wrong with the wall.  Warped, or something.”

Dell, the woman behind the register, smiled patiently.  “That’s not the way of it, George.  I told you, nothing stays on that wall.”

George waved the broom handle at her.  “Now, don’t go starting that.  Buildings have their quirks, that’s all.”

On the registration desk next to Dell, between her and the desktop computer monitor, a beige colored phone rang.

She picked it up, never taking her eyes off George.  Without saying a word she handed the receiver towards him.  “Maybe you should tell that to them.”

Darcy watched the strange interplay between the two of them.  What was going on here?  George stared at the phone as if it was a live snake ready to bite him.  Then he swallowed loudly and grumbled as he took his broom and broken glass out of the room.  “Have work to do.  That window in the commons area is stuck again.”

After he was gone, Dell softly chuckled and reset the phone on its base.  When she smiled her nose crinkled, accentuating the freckles across her cheeks.  “Now, then.  Welcome to the Pine Lake Inn.  Miss Sweet and Mister Tinker, was it?”

“Uh, yes,” Darcy said.  “It’s Mrs. Sweet, though.  We’re married.”

“Oh, I get it.  Kept the name, did you?  Good on ya.  Nice to see a woman keep her independence.  We don’t have to give up being ourselves to be with a man, now do we?”

Jon coughed behind his hand.  Darcy wasn’t really sure how to answer the question, or if it even was a question.  Thankfully the phone rang again and saved her the trouble of trying to figure it out.

With an apologetic roll of her eyes Dell picked the phone up.  “Pine Lake Inn.  Can I help you?”

She was silent for maybe three seconds, then hung up again.

“Problems with your phone?” Jon asked her.

“Something like that,” Dell answered cryptically.  “Let’s get you checked in.  If you can just sign the book on the next line?  I know it’s a bit old fashioned but that’s how we do things here south of the Outback.”

There was a big book on the desk, and she turned it around to them, open to a page near the middle where names and addresses in different handwriting filled several lines.  Darcy took the pen and wrote her name and Jon’s on the next open space.

“Very nice.  I’m Adelle Powers, co-owner of the Pine Lake Inn.  Folks call me Dell.  Got your room all ready for you.  Room number nine, the honeymoon suite.  Think you’ll love it.”

“I’m sure we will,” Darcy said, just as the phone rang again.

Dell sighed and handed Jon the keys to the room.  “I need to get that.  It might be an actual person this time.  Your room is just up those stairs and to the left.”

When she picked up the phone, Darcy could hear the static over the line.

Bringing the bags up the narrow staircase took two trips.  Dell was gone from the front desk when they came back down.  Somewhere in another room a clock ticked away the seconds.  They went back up to the second floor, and this time Jon took the luggage that Darcy had in her hands and set them aside.

Then he swept her up in his arms and pushed the door to their room open. 

“What are you doing?” Darcy squealed.

“It’s tradition to carry the bride across the threshold, you know.”  With his foot, he closed the door behind them.

She laughed and kicked her feet as he spun her around in the middle of the room.  “Jon!  People will hear us!”

Whether he lost his balance or threw them down on the bed on purpose, she didn’t know.  They were just suddenly on top of the fluffy lavender comforter, tangled in each other’s arms, laughing uncontrollably.  It felt good.

The room was big for an Inn, and the bed and a dresser left enough floor space for another oval knitted rug.  A chair and a few other furnishings made the room cozy.  A door opposite the bed would lead to a private bathroom, where Darcy was looking forward to a long bath.  It felt like they were teenagers with their parents out of town, with the whole place to themselves, but she knew that wasn’t the case.

“You’re going to get us kicked out,” Darcy protested, alternately pushing against his chest and pulling him closer.  “How thin do you think these walls are?”

“Hmm,” he murmured, catching her hands, rolling her onto her back quickly, making the breath catch in her throat.  “Let’s find out.”

***

The bathtub was Heaven.

Darcy stretched one long leg out of the water and scooped bubbles further up her chest.  Jon and she had fallen asleep after…after.  Just a quick nap.  Two hours.  Enough to shake off the jetlag.  Jon had been very close to her when she woke up.

He smelled so good.

That memory played out again behind her eyes as she lay there, soaking in the warmth and wondering if she should go wake him up.  No.  Let him sleep.  He’d been so tired.  Sleepy man.  Her man, now.

Life was perfect.

She hadn’t realized she was drifting until her hand fell into the water with a little splash that jolted her back awake.  Water sloshed over the curved rim of the freestanding slipper tub and onto the tiled floor.  The curtain was drawn all around her, giving her the illusion of solitude.  The bathroom wasn’t large, and the tub took up most of the space, and she was cozy and comfortable here.

Droplets from the tap made a little
drip…drip
sound as they hit the water at odd intervals.  Old plumbing, Darcy decided, must be allowing the water to run even with the faucets turned off.  Other than that, the world was silent around her.

Until someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Jon?” she asked, sloshing to the side of the tub.  “Just come in.  The door’s not locked.”

“You should come out here.”

She startled, pushing the curtain aside and quickly reaching for a towel.  That wasn’t Jon’s voice.

Patting herself quickly dry she dressed again, leaving her feet bare and wrapping the towel around her long, damp hair.  She went to the adjoining door to the bedroom, and opened it.

“You look silly,” Smudge greeted her.  He was laying across the bed on his side.  His tail swished back and forth as sunlight from the late afternoon sky slanted in through the windows to fall across his black and white fur.

“Oh, really?” she asked him sarcastically.  “Just how would you look if I dunked you in the bathtub?”

“Humph.”  He swished his tail again, and flicked an ear.

Beside Smudge on the bed, her Great Aunt Millie smiled.  “Hello, dear.”  Her black dress soaked up the sunlight and managed to look even darker for it.  Her floppy-brimmed hat was the same one she had taken to wearing when she appeared to Darcy.  Just like now.

“So, I’m dreaming?” she guessed, although she knew the answer.

“Call it what you will,” Millie answered cryptically.  “You seem to be enjoying yourself here in the bottom of the world.”

“Well, we only just got here, but so far, yes.  Jon and I are happy, Millie.  I’m lucky I found him.”

Her great aunt added a wink to her grin.  “I like him, too, dear.  He has his problems, just like any man, I suppose.  You’ve been good for him.  He’s been good for you.  Guess that makes him a keeper.”

Darcy appreciated Millie’s wisdom.  It was direct and insightful.  It always had been.  Even in the journals Millie had left behind, she had found answers to problems and solutions to troubles she never would have found on her own.  “I miss you, Millie.”

“Oh, I miss you too, Darcy my dear.”  Her aunt’s expression turned wistful.  “I got taken away from you much too soon.  That’s the way things go, I suppose.  I’m here for you now.  I’ll always be here for you.”

“Is that why you haven’t moved on yet?” Darcy asked impulsively.  “You’ve earned a rest, Millie.  If anyone has, it’s you.”

The question made the old woman’s spirit shift on the bed next to Smudge.  The big cat opened one eye to look up at Millie, and some secret passed between them that Darcy couldn’t read.  Millie took a deep breath.  “That’s a talk for another time.”

“You don’t think now’s a good time?” Smudge interrupted.

“You shush,” Millie told him.  “I’m still mad at you for bringing Darcy that page from the book.”

The book!  Darcy had left it back home rather than bring it with her on her honeymoon, but she knew it was possibly the single most important book she had ever laid hands on.  In its pages, she was sure, were secrets about her Great Aunt Millie that she needed to know.  Secrets that had been kept from her for some reason.  “Millie—”

“Not now, dear,” Millie said with finality.  “And you keep that tongue of yours in your mouth, cat.  We have more important things to talk about here.  Darcy needs to get back to her Jon.”

“Wait, where is Jon?” Darcy asked, only now realizing she was standing in the bedroom of the suite and her sleeping husband wasn’t in the bed.

“You’ll be back with him in a moment,” Millie promised.  “First, I need to tell you something important.”

“You should tell me about the book,” Darcy pressed.  Smudge meowed in agreement.

“The book will still be there when you get back home.  For now, you’re here, in a place that has a bad flower problem.”

Darcy moved the towel away from her ear.  She couldn’t have heard that right.  “A bad…what?”

“Have you seen any flowers since you’ve been here?” Smudge asked her.

Well, no, she hadn’t.  Grass.  Trees.  No flowers.  “I haven’t really been looking.  What’s that got to do with, well, anything?”

“Bad flowers bring bad rains,” Smudge murmured with a sleepy yawn, his tongue curling inside of his mouth.

“No,” Darcy corrected him, “April showers bring May flowers.  Only, this is Australia and we’re moving into autumn, so maybe they bring May snowstorms.  I don’t know.”

Millie shook her head, the brim of the hat flopping up and down.  “Smudge had it right, dear.  He’s a good cat.  When he wants to be.”

“Darcy needed to know,” Smudge mewled.

“Shush.” Millie scratched under his chin.  “I would have told her.  Eventually.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Well.  Perhaps you’re right.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!”  Darcy exploded.  “Would you two tell me what’s going on?”

“Bad flowers bring bad rains,” they both repeated to her.

And then she jumped awake, water up to her neck, splashing wildly until she remembered she was in a bathtub and had fallen asleep while relaxing and she wasn’t going to drown if she just kept her wits about her and sat up!

There.  Half of her bath was now on the floor, but she had her bearings again.  The shower curtain was pulled back, like she’d done in her dream, and she could see herself in the tall mirror standing over against the wall.  She was breathing heavily, her eyes wide, the words from the dream still echoing in her mind.  Millie had a habit of showing up in her dreams when she needed to talk, and dragging Smudge along with her, but she hadn’t expected it to happen here, in Australia.

How far away could spirits communicate with people, anyway?  Not that there was any real distance in the next world.  People simply were there.  They didn’t have to move feet, or miles, or even as much as an inch to be somewhere else.  Hmm.  She’d never thought of that before—