1 Death Comes to Town by K.J. Emrick

They had heard about the arrest and come to watch. Darcy imagined everyone in town had heard about the arrest by now.
    “I don’t know what he’s into, Grace. But you need to talk to him.” Jon went to his desk and came back with photocopies of the documents that Darcy had helped him find in Jeff’s apartment. “I’ve questioned him. He won’t talk to me. Maybe you can talk to him like a wife and get something out of him.”
    She ripped the papers away from him, her fist wrinkling creases into them. “Screw that. You have nothing to hold my husband on. Let him go.”
    Jon nodded as if he’d expected that answer. Quietly, he left the room to go and get Aaron. Grace glared at Darcy the whole time he was gone.
    Aaron came flying out of the back of the building where the holding area was. He fell into Grace’s arms. “Come on,” he said to her, “let’s go home before your new partner changes his mind.” He gave Jon a dirty look and then turned it towards Darcy. Without another word he and Grace left the police station.
    “He wouldn’t give me anything, Darcy. I’m not sure what we should do now,” Jon said, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
    “Well, I know.” Darcy shook her head and crossed her arms over her stomach. “I know what to do, but you’re not going to like it.”
    ***
    In the bookstore Darcy went around lighting candles as Jon looked on nervously.
    “Uh, Darcy? I know I said I’d trust you and all, but what are you doing?”
    This was the part he wasn’t going to like. She wasn’t wild about it, either. “We are going to have communicate with the other side to try and channel the spirit of Anna. Maybe she can shed some light on this whole situation.”
    Darcy saw the look that Jon gave her. She was used to the scepticism of others. She just smiled and finished preparing the space. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s sit and hold hands.”
    They sank to the floor, cross legged, and Jon gave her his hands. She bit her lip at the warm sensation that flowed through her at his touch. She had to concentrate for this to work. She swallowed and pushed aside thoughts of the gorgeous man she was holding hands with by candlelight, and instead pictured the fog in her mind.
    Nearby, within the circle of candles, mist coalesced in ethereal tendrils. She watched it, wondering if Jon could see it too. She let it happen, let the bridge between this world and the next solidify until the mist became a spirit, became the form of a figure. A woman’s form, tall and shimmering dark.
    But it wasn’t Anna, it was Millie. Great-Aunt Millie once again floated over to the book shelf and took Agatha Christie’s thriller from the shelf and sent it flying at Jon. The book hit him squarely in the head. He yelped loudly and jumped up and as he did it broke the connection the communication had created and Millie disappeared.
    Darcy sighed. Millie’s obsession with that book was becoming annoying. And what did she have against Jon? Knowing they weren’t going to be able to connect to the other side for a while she pulled Jon into the employee area of the shop where there was a small refrigerator and freezer unit.
    Using a plastic bag she dropped ice into it and handed it to Jon. “Here. This will help with that knot that’s forming on the back of your head.” She gently laid the ice pack to his skull. His hand slipped over hers and she pulled back at the touch of it. Once again, she looked up into his face.
    “I, uh, didn’t realize that you were quite so tall.” She heard the breathlessness in her own voice. She’d been right. He was very distracting.
    He smiled at her. “I’m glad to have you on my side, Darcy. Only, no more flying books, okay?” His voice was quiet when he spoke.
    “Yes, I agree.” She laughed softly. “And I’m glad you’re on my side, too. I couldn’t do this without you.”
    Standing this close she could see flecks of silver around the pupil of his deep blue eyes.