Family Secrets (A Darcy Sweet Cozy Mystery #8) by K.J. Emrick Read Free Book Online Page A

Maybe some luggage, or a coat or something with Aimee's name in it.
    She tripped over her own feet backing up and landed sitting on the bed as the closet door flung open to reveal a woman scurrying out of it.  Before Darcy could scream out in surprise the woman frantically moved towards her.
    "Hold it, hold it," the woman said to Darcy, holding her hands out, "I'm not going to hurt you.  I'm leaving.  I'm leaving right now."
    The woman was a few years older than Darcy, maybe, with short dark hair cut in a pixie style and makeup applied just so on her cheeks and eyes and lips.  The corner of her mouth was turned up in what was probably a permanent sarcastic smile.  Her long beige trenchcoat fluttered as she stepped out quickly and made for the door.
    Recovering from her fright, Darcy jumped up and stepped in front of her, arms crossed, trying to look braver than she felt.  It wasn't like Darcy had a right to be in Vivica Chartrand's house, either.  "Who are you?" she demanded.
    The woman tried for a real smile, and sort of succeeded.  "Look, I was just seeing if there was any kind of story here.  There's not, so I'm leaving.  Promise.  Cross my heart, even."  She made an X over her heart with her index finger, her hand folded around something.
    "Story?" Darcy asked, confused.
    The woman sighed and put her fist on her hip, hanging her head and mumbling to herself.  "Should've known there'd be somebody here.  Too much to ask for a nice, empty house to go through."  She sighed again, bringing her piercing dark eyes up at Darcy.  "Maybe if I introduce myself.  I am Brianna Watson.  I'm a reporter for the Chronicle.  You've heard of me?"
    She acted like Darcy should recognize her name on the spot.  She had heard it somewhere, she thought, but she couldn't place where.  "I know the Chronicle," she offered.  "It's published out of Ryansburg, right?"
    Brianna Watson smiled like Darcy had just stated the obvious.  "Right.  And I'm a reporter there.  I'm sorry if I'm trespassing in your house but I didn't mean to cause you any trouble and I didn't touch anything."
    "You mean other than whatever was in the closet," Darcy observed.
    Brianna looked down at her hand.  "What?  This?  Oh.  Uh, yeah.  I should leave this here.  Wallet belonging to that woman they arrested.  Nothing special in it."
    Aimee's wallet.   There was Darcy's proof that Jon's sister had been staying here.  "You went through her things?"
    A shrug was her answer, before Brianna brushed the question aside and threw the wallet over on the bed.  "So, no harm no foul, right?  I leave, you don't press any charges, and at the end of the day everyone's still happy.  Maybe I even put a few quotes from you in the story about this whole thing."
    "Uh, well," Darcy realized the position she'd put herself by trying to stop Brianna from leaving.  "This isn't my house.  So, I guess I can't stop you from being here."
    Brianna raised an eyebrow.  "Oh yeah?  Trespassing just like me, are you?  You working for another newspaper?  The Dispatch or something?"
    Darcy shook her head.  This woman never stopped talking, she realized.  "No.  I'm Darcy Sweet.  I'm just a…friend of Vivica's."
    Not the truth, she thought to herself, but not exactly a lie.
    "Friend of the victim.  Well, then I definitely want to talk to you," Brianna said excitedly, stepping forward to hook her arm through Darcy's.  Before Darcy could say anything, Brianna had them walking back down the hallway towards the stairs.  "Let's say we get out of here, though, before someone who actually does own the house shows up."
    The ghostly figure of Vivica Chartrand floated up the stairs in front of them as if called up by that comment.  Her face was angry.  Darcy tried to ignore the specter, knowing that Brianna couldn't see her.
    "Yes," Darcy said.  "Outside would be good."
    Vivica began shaking a finger at both of them, scolding them in silence, words forming and dying on her