by Jody Holford
“Uh, I can’t reveal my sources?” Molly smiled brightly at Chris. She really didn’t want to get DeeDee in trouble. But Chris wasn’t exactly denying any theories.
“Molly,” Chris said, sitting straight and closing his laptop with a snap.
Sam chuckled under his breath, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees.
Putting on her own professional hat, Molly stiffened her spine. “I can’t reveal my sources. I’m sorry. But, would you be willing to comment on the cause of death?”
“I would not be willing,” Chris said immediately.
“How about persons of interest outside of Blake Findle?”
His eyebrow arched and a slight smirk tipped one corner of his lips. He was an attractive man and she genuinely liked him. He was funny—when he dropped the tough cop routine. And he was kind. He cared about Britton Bay and the people who lived there.
“Such as?” he asked.
Fine. Maybe if you share, he will, too. “Kyle Wilks?”
Chris’s brows scrunched together. “The sous chef?”
Molly nodded. “Yes. He and the victim were sleeping together. She broke it off with him the night of her murder.”
When Chris closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose, Molly wondered if she should have shared that information earlier. But when? She’d stopped by, she came when he asked. She was doing her job as a citizen. Then why do you feel like you’re giving him information as leverage to get some? Because she was. But she couldn’t feel guilty when finding the killer would put a lot of issues to rest for people that she lo…Whoa. People you care about.
Chris stood abruptly and leaned on the table pressing both hands against the scarred top. “Molly, I need you to stay out of this. I say that both as a police officer and as a friend. I appreciate any information that you share with me. You know I do, but you’re putting yourself in danger if you dig for information someone doesn’t want uncovered.”
Feeling chastised, she looked down at her hands. Her heart swelled when Sam reached out for one and entangled his fingers with hers.
Looking back up, she met Chris’s gaze. “I wasn’t withholding information. It just came back to me when I asked you about the cause of death. If I stumble upon anything else, I’ll tell you. I can’t help that people talk to me.”
Sam sat straighter, his body visibly tense. She didn’t want to pit him between his friend and his girlfriend. She didn’t want that strain between any of them.
“I know that,” Chris said on a sigh. “And as frustrating as it is to have gossip swirl around this town like a damn tornado, I do appreciate your ability to glean bits and pieces people wouldn’t share with police. Just make sure you remember only one of us has a badge.”
Molly stood and Sam did the same. Though she felt like sticking her tongue out at him, she reminded herself that at almost thirty, she probably shouldn’t. That didn’t make the urge go away though. As if he sensed her desire to get the last word, Sam put a hand to the small of her back.
“Fun as always, Beatty,” Sam said with not one trace of irritation in his voice.
“Likewise. Maybe we can hang out somewhere other than the station sometime soon.”
Molly couldn’t help her smile. “But it’s so cozy here,” she said.
They left the room, the three of them laughing. The buzz of computers resting traveled through the otherwise quiet bullpen area of the station.
“How are things with Sarah?” Molly asked as they walked to the reception area.
She liked the smile that lit up Chris’s eyes. As though, just the mention of her name cleared the fatigue. “She’s good. Really good. She got approved for the loan to open an art store. She’ll be taking over the vacant shop on West Street. She’s going to offer classes and stuff.”
Sam clapped his friend on the back. “That’s awesome, man. We should celebrate.”
They hesitated at the counter, Chris leaning against it and Molly and Sam holding hands on the other side of it. “We should. Our treat since I’m going to rope both of you into helping her get the place ready. It’s a decent price for the rent, but it needs some work. Landlord said if she does the work herself, he’ll give her an added discount for the first six months.”
Molly grinned, excited for her new friend and for the happiness that easily emanated from Chris’s gaze. “We’re happy to. That’s so exciting. Maybe I can run a feature on her in the Britton Bay Bulletin. Small-town girl returns home ready to bring culture to Britton Bay.”
Sam squeezed her fingers and looked down at her with a sweet smile.
“You always think in headlines?” Chris asked, covering a yawn.
She gave him a mock glare. “Often, yes. How about this one: Police officer works overtime to pay for extravagant dinner he offered to pay for when he mocks newspaper reporter.”
Chris pushed off the counter. “It’s kinda long.”
Laughter burst from her chest and Sam joined in. “He’s got you there, honey.” He tugged at a lock of her hair and the affection in his gaze surrounded her, stealing her breath. Which was fine. If he was looking at her like that, she could go without oxygen for a moment or two.
Before they reached the double doors to leave, Chris called out once more. “Make sure you call me, you hear anything else.”
“Yes, sir,” she called back.
Sam shook his head. “You do keep things interesting.”
She waited until they were in the car and on their way back to his place before she asked the question troubling her brain. “Do you feel like I’m putting a wedge in your friendship with Chris? I know I’m not his favorite person sometimes.”
Sam gave her an easy smile and reached for her hand like he did so often. “I’m not worried about my friendship with Chris. He’s just doing his job and so are you. I’m sure he’s not your favorite person sometimes either.”
She nodded. He wasn’t wrong. “That’s true.”
The roads were quieter now and the air between them shimmered with contentment. Just a couple, heading home for the evening. Take out the murder, the missing bride, the police inquisitions, and they were nearly normal.
“I wouldn’t mind earning that spot,” Sam said, as they neared his apartment.
Molly turned her head, smiled at him. “What spot?”
“Your favorite person.” He winked at her.
Oh, boy. She was surprised her grin didn’t make her entire body glow, it felt so bright. “It’s yours,” she whispered.
His fingers tightened. “Then I guess we’re even.”
* * * *
They settled in, curling up together on the couch to watch Netflix and Molly had nearly fallen asleep with her head on Sam’s chest when her phone buzzed. She stirred and mumbled, making him laugh and reach forward for her. Grabbing her phone from the coffee table, he passed it to her.
She opened one eye and stared at the text that had come in.
Unknown: I need to see you. Please. It’s important. Can you meet me at the beach? Where I met your puppy?
Confusion woke all of Molly’s senses. She shifted, sitting up. Sam glanced at the screen.
“Who’s that?”
“I’m not positive, but I think it’s Chantel.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sam refused to let her go alone. She was slightly miffed over the way he took the choice from her. She’d insisted on driving her own Jeep and could feel his gaze from the passenger seat. Britton Bay was asleep right now, the sky full of stars and the streets empty.
“I can’t believe you’re pouting,” Sam said. His tone was amused.
She shot him a glance that she wasn’t sure he could see in the dark interior of her Jeep. “A two-year-old pouts. An independent woman approaching her thirties does not. I just don’t appreciate you going all alpha and deciding I can’t
take care of myself.”
She stopped at a stop light, her hand on the gear shifter. Sam’s hand covered hers and she turned her head to look at him.
“You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. You could give lessons on being independent and capable. But as someone who cares about you, is that really what you expect of me? For me to hang out watching television in my apartment while my girlfriend goes to meet up with a stranger whose husband-to-be is in jail for suspicion of murder? You think I’d just walk you to the door, say goodnight and hope I hear from you tomorrow? I think you’re mistaking the word for alpha for protective. And I won’t apologize for it. Something happens to you because I gave in to your need to show you can do it alone, how am I supposed to live with that?”
Molly’s mouth dropped open. The light had changed to green, but her foot was lead on the brake, absorbing Sam’s words and the harsh way he spoke.
“I…”
He cut her off, waving his hand and looking out onto the desolate street. “We can’t always control how we feel, Molly. I’m telling myself to go slow with you because even though you’ll walk headfirst into a lion’s cage, you’re scared of getting too close.” He turned back to her now, his tone gentler. “But I would have insisted going with anyone. Jill. My mom. Bella. Cal. I’d have wanted to go even if it was Chris and he has a gun.”
She swallowed both the lump in her throat and a heavy serving of guilt. “I’m sorry.”
He gestured to the green light with his chin. “Light changed.”
She looked back to the road and eased up on the break. “I guess I just feel a need to prove myself. I overreacted. I’m sorry.”
“You said that already and I believe you. It’s a two-way street, Molly. If you’d do it for me, don’t even question whether I’d do the same for you.”
She turned her hand so their fingers joined. The gentle squeeze he gave her both reassured her and settled her stomach. She didn’t like being at odds with him and truthfully, she didn’t want to go to the beach alone. Molly didn’t intend to put herself in harm’s way just to prove a point. Every time he goes out of his way to show you he cares, you put your walls up. She needed to stop doing that.
Pulling into the parking lot that was packed most days, she turned into a spot and cut the engine. There were a couple of teens embracing on the hood of a car. Their dark silhouettes pulled apart when Molly and Sam got out of the Jeep. Sam took her hand again and they strolled away from the parking lot. There was both a bike lane and a walking path that lined the ocean. The water glistened, the moon bouncing off of its dark surface and for one second, it seemed like a giant stage with the beam of light spotlighting it. Molly loved the beauty of it.
“I never get tired of that view,” Sam said as they walked.
“I can see why. It’s so peaceful,” she agreed.
“When I finally buy a place, I’d like to make sure I can see the water,” he said.
They continued to walk along the winding footpath, which curved around natural growth and bushes tended to by the city. The smell of wild sweet peas tickled her nose and she breathed it in.
“Do you think you’ll do that sometime soon?”
“I’m in no rush. My apartment is fine and honestly, right now, I’m just content to pump my profits back into my shop.”
She thought about that, how proud he was of what he had built with the money his father’s insurance had left him. Sam’s way of honoring a man he’d adored and admired. Molly wished she could have met his father, the man who left behind such a lovely wife and amazing son. She was grateful both of them suffered less now and that Katherine was seizing a chance to move forward.
“I think your dad would be very proud of you,” she said, her voice lowering. It sounded so loud, even with the roll of the ocean waves in the background.
“I think so, too.” His grip on her hand tightened. “We close?”
Looking ahead, seeing the path she took on her morning walks, Molly pointed. “In there, just around a curve is the stairs I use to come down.”
The few trees that jutted out, like they were suspended at strange angles, shielded one area and Molly knew with absolute certainty that this was where Chantel would be. Not that she’d confirmed it was her when Molly had texted back: Who is this?
She wasn’t scared. She didn’t believe she or Sam were in any danger. Still, her shoulders tightened and her blood raced through her veins. The sound of her own breathing seemed to echo in her ears.
“Breathe,” he whispered, tugging her hand.
Right. Good idea. She’d just inhaled when a rustling trapped her breath again. “Chantel?” Knowing the water made voices travel, she kept hers quiet.
“Molly?”
Who else did she expect? The woman she’d only seen a handful of times came around the bent trees and stood before them. She wore a thin sweater and a pair of jeans, her hair pulled to one side in a braid. Though it was dark, Molly didn’t think she was wearing any makeup. She looked…vulnerable. And young. So different than the debutante of a woman whom she’d watched that first day.
“Who is that?” Chantel asked, her pitch increasing.
“This is my boyfriend, Sam. His mother owns the bed-and-breakfast.”
Her already pale face seemed to lose another shade of color. “Did you tell anyone you were meeting me here? From the bed-and-breakfast?”
Sam smiled at her. “It’s just us, Chantel. You texted Molly and I didn’t want her to come here alone.”
Chantel nodded, wrapping her arms around her middle. The purse she wore across her chest swung at her side when she stepped over a low-lying log and sat on it. Burying her face in her hands, Sam and Molly could only stand there, waiting. She was obviously in a serious amount of distress and neither of them knew if she’d found out about Blake yet. Molly pulled her hand from Sam’s and went to sit down next to Chantel.
“What do you need?”
Chantel lifted her face, dropping her hands to her side, resting them on the log. “I need help. I need Blake out of jail because he didn’t do anything and then I need to get away from my mother before I’m in jail for assault.” The last part was said with a bit of humor in her tone, surprising Molly.
Molly gave her a small smile. The moon shone over them, reflecting off the water and their eyes had adjusted to the light so Molly could see the concern etched in Chantel’s features. The weariness she saw in the young woman’s gaze tugged at Molly’s heart. She wanted to marry the man she loved. That was it; she wanted to pledge to love him forever and her wedding had literally turned into a sideshow that she had no control over.
“Why were you crying this morning?” If Molly was going to help, she needed answers.
Sam wandered a bit, close enough that she could see him, but giving them the privacy they needed to get Chantel to open up.
Chantel ran her hands up and down her jeans, like she was warming them. “He’d kind of disappeared for a bit, the first night we got here. When he came back to our room, he was agitated and I worried it was because of something my mom had done. She doesn’t like him. I’m sure everyone has picked up on that.” She took a large gulp of air. “I pushed and pushed and finally he snapped at me and said it had nothing to do with my mother. We argued. He said some nasty things about her that upset me. I went to the couch, but couldn’t sleep. In the middle of the night, he finally came out of the bedroom—it’s a really nice suite with the separate bedroom and living areas. Anyway, he obviously hadn’t been sleeping either. We sat on the couch together for a while, just being together. It was quiet and calm and the most peaceful I’ve felt since all of the wedding plans started. Just before dawn, he said he had something to tell me.”
Molly shifted, angling her body toward Chantel. So, Blake had been with her all night? Was he honest with her? She didn’t say anything, even when the bride-to-be let th
e moment fill with silence. If she needed a minute, it was understandable.
Chantel looked out at the water. “He slept with her. The cook. He went to Vegas for a work thing a few years ago. To be fair, we’d decided to take some time apart. Not a lot of time, but we weren’t actually together when it happened. But still, you know? This woman he had a one-night stand with is serving up crepes for my wedding breakfast? No thank you. So I said she had to go. I told him to fire her and I went to the beach. You came down a short while later.”
It was a lot. There was a chance that she could be covering for him. Love seemed to come with a mandatory set of blinders in Molly’s experience.
Laughter rang out from somewhere above them. Probably teens making the most of the final days of summer.
“How did you know he was in jail? Why did you just disappear?” More questions bubbled up Molly’s throat, but she cautioned herself to slow down.
Chantel leaned over and scooped up a handful of sand, then watched it sift through her fingers, scattering down, somewhere close to where it had started. Nothing ever went back together the exact same way.
“He called. I wasn’t answering, but I got his message. I was his one phone call,” Chantel said. Molly wasn’t sure if the woman thought that was romantic.
“I left because I couldn’t take feeling torn between him and my mother, and I started to worry that my whole life would be this way and I can’t constantly choose.”
She shouldn’t have to. “Where did you go?”
Chantel smiled, full and bright. “My aunt’s. She and my mom don’t talk to each other anymore. My mother couldn’t wait to come back to this town and shove a big wedding in her sister’s face. When I showed up on her doorstep and said I couldn’t handle being around her anymore, she welcomed me with open arms.”
Molly spent a lot of time wishing she’d had a bigger family. As an army brat, she always thought it’d be less of a transition moving from one place to another if she’d had a sibling or two. Getting older, she’d wondered what it would be like to have a protective older brother or a sister who stole her clothes. There were plenty of times she’d felt lonely. But it would seem, based on what she’d witnessed just this week alone, that families, large or small, were complicated things.
