Murder Down Under (A Darcy Sweet Cozy Mystery Book 17) Read Free Page B

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.

Chapter Two
 
    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