by Jody Holford
“Will you be going back to the bed-and-breakfast?”
Chantel shook her head. “No. I don’t want to be married there. My mother wanted a big wedding there to show everyone she’d done well for herself. In truth, all she did was marry well. Since my father died, she’s been trying to prove she still belongs in the same circle by doing things like this. Things for show.”
She looked at Molly, her gaze sharp and intent. “But I want to marry Blake before I go. I don’t need all of the trimmings. I thought I did, but when it comes down to whether I’d rather have all of those things or have him be my husband, it’s an easy choice. Will you help me?”
Molly struggled with saying the right thing. “Chantel, you should go to the police. If you tell them what you told me, they’ll know Blake has an alibi for the time Skyler was murdered.”
She stood up now, slipping a little in the soft sand. “No. I can’t. I know it makes me a coward, but I can’t go back there. I need everyone to just leave us alone. I’m going to stay with my aunt. I’m going to marry Blake and then we’re going to leave here and start our own lives. Please Molly. Please. If I go back, my mother will pull me in, try to convince me he’s terrible for me. I know who he is. I know he has a past. Don’t we all? I don’t care about that. He’s not hiding anything and he wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
Molly stood as well. She honestly didn’t know what she could do to help if Chantel wasn’t even willing to go to the police station for the man she said she loved. “But he has a history of assault.” Those blinders again.
Chantel scoffed. “He does. His cousin pressed charges after Blake beat him badly enough to break some bones.”
Pressing her lips into a firm line, Molly stared at the woman, wondering how that evidence helped Blake.
“He and his cousin were at a bar. It’s a long story, but his cousin hit on a woman who didn’t want his attention and took it way too far. He ended up grabbing her and shoving her. Blake intervened and he was the one that had charges laid against him. The girl didn’t want to talk about it.”
Why does every story have a dozen sides?
Chantel sighed, like she was out of energy. “I’ll be at my aunt’s. I understand if you don’t want to help me. I just had to try.”
“Why me?”
Chantel pursed her lips. Behind her, Sam was throwing rocks into the ocean. “You asked if I was okay. You don’t even know me and you cared. You were genuinely concerned with me. The only other person who’s been concerned, is Blake. He’s made mistakes, but he loves me. And I love him.”
“What if I can’t do anything?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I can leave an anonymous tip or something, saying he has an alibi. I could phone the police station, I guess. But if they ask me to come in and I don’t, they may not believe me.”
Molly sighed. She did care. About too many people and things. Chris didn’t want her involved, but if she could connect him with Chantel in a way that didn’t let everyone know where she was, he could take it from there. He wouldn’t want to be holding an innocent man. If she’s telling the truth.
“If what you said is true, someone else killed Skyler. If we can get the police onto other suspects, they’ll release Blake.”
“They can only hold him for forty-eight hours, but he shouldn’t have to stay there at all,” Chantel said. “They don’t have enough to hold him longer.”
Sam wandered back over, took Molly’s hand. “What are they holding him on now?”
Chantel’s lips tipped up at one corner. “Suspicion of his involvement, obstruction of an ongoing investigation, and refusing to cooperate and damage of property. It seems that while he was getting a ride to the motel, he didn’t like being questioned by your sheriff and smacked his fist against the dash, creating a small crack. They wanted a reason. He gave them one. Now I have to find a way to help him without letting anyone know I’m still in town.”
Molly’s brain was spinning. Blake didn’t seem like the sharpest knife in any drawer, but Chantel was just a woman who’d come to get married. It was ridiculous the way something so simple and natural had exploded into a nightmare for her.
The other thing that had Molly caving was knowing the real killer was still out there.
“There may be a way we can help you give your statement to the police without alerting your mom or your bridal party.”
For a second, it seemed like Chantel might hug her, but she clasped her hands together, folding them against her chest. “Thank you.”
Molly nodded. “But Chantel, you should find a way to tell them all to go home. It isn’t fair to keep everyone worrying. Your mother may have gone overboard and she could be entirely in the wrong, but she still loves you. So do your friends. They deserve to know you’re safe.”
She nodded, but said nothing as she walked toward the steps that led up the hill to the street. Sam and Molly stared after her.
“You believe her?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I think she’s too tired to cover for him honestly. I think if he wasn’t really with her, she would have left town entirely. But she doesn’t want to go without him.” She sighed.
“What now?”
Molly looked up at him. “We need to get a hold of Chris and talk to him about Chantel, see if he’ll go to her and explain why. But we should wait until morning. I want to see if she’ll tell her mom and her friends. It’ll say a lot about her if she doesn’t and they’re forced to just sit around worrying and wondering. So, I need to be up early.” They were closer to the bed-and-breakfast than his home.
Sam looked down at his feet. “Want me to just drop you off at your place since we’re right here.”
She smiled, turning into him and going up on tiptoes. He looked up, his hands encircling her waist.
“Instead of dropping me off, you could just stay.”
His smile moved all the way into his gaze. “You sure?”
Surer than she’d realized. “I am.”
As he kissed her, he pulled her closer and Molly pushed everything else aside. Everything other than her, him, and the sound of the waves lapping against the shore. Maybe blinders weren’t such a bad thing.
Chapter Nineteen
As it turned out, tired or not, Molly didn’t head straight to bed. When they arrived at the bed-and-breakfast, they were both surprised to see the level of activity happening. Music played from a small speaker that perched atop one of the tables. Four of the groomsmen and one of the bridesmaids were playing poker. Three of the other bridesmaids were playing a board game at a table close by. All of them were chatting back and forth, both at the tables and between them. One of the other groomsmen was talking to the sous chef…what was her name again? Molly wracked her brain a second, realizing how tired she was. Shannon. Shannon Crombie. She was transferring appetizers to a smaller plate at a table that was set up under one of the tents.
And where’s Mr. Kyle Wilks; sous chef and jilted lover? As if she’d conjured him, she saw him chatting up one of the blonde bridesmaids who wasn’t ensconced in a game. They were sitting on the steps of the front porch, close enough so their knees were touching.
“It’s kind of weird,” Sam said under his breath. Not quite a whisper, but sufficiently low so he wouldn’t be overheard. “Like everything is just moving forward.”
“It does have a certain eerie feel to it. But what else can they do. I would imagine they can’t leave until the police have okayed it.”
“You’re not going straight to bed, are you?” Sam looked down at her, squeezing her hand affectionately.
“I’m feeling a little chatty all of a sudden,” she said, feeling her cheeks warm.
Sam chuckled, also low and under his breath and the sound sent happy shivers dancing over her skin. Lowering his head, he kissed her cheek. “Grab some of those appetizers on your way in. I’m going
to run grab Tigger and I’ll be back soon.”
Smiling up at him, feeling grateful, she nodded. “Deal and thank you.”
She watched him take the path to his truck and wondered which approach to take. She decided to start with Shannon, who’d broken away from the table and was walking toward the back of the house, likely to enter through the kitchen. She was balancing a white pastry box in one hand and several empty plates in the other.
“Here, let me help you,” Molly said, reaching for the plates.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” Shannon replied, but she gave up the dishes when Molly insisted.
“I’m Molly. I live in the cottage over there,” she said, walking beside the petite blonde.
“Shannon. Bet you never expected this much drama from living here, huh?” She took the steps ahead of Molly and opened the door into the mud room that led to the kitchen.
“I thought it would be a happy celebration. I’m sorry about your friend or your boss…I’m sorry for your loss,” she muttered, cringing at her own fumbled words.
Molly shut the door behind them and followed the cook into the kitchen. It was nowhere near as organized and neat as it had been the other night. Shannon set the box down and took the plates from Molly.
“Thanks. I’m not really sure how to define her. She was both, but not quite either, if that makes any sense. I just can’t believe she’s gone. It seems surreal. I keep expecting her to come through the door and rip my skin off for having the kitchen this messy,” Shannon said. She leaned against the counter and brushed a few strands of hair out of her face.
There was a hint of sadness in her eyes, but something that stood out to Molly was that the woman no longer looked anxious. The slight tinge of humor in her voice suggested she didn’t mean her words about Skyler yelling at her, but the relaxed set of her shoulders said the worry had been very real.
“Are you guys sticking around?”
Shannon looked at her fingernails. “No choice. Police say we can’t leave. It’s weird to be stuck here and not even be sure if the wedding is happening. We can’t stay here indefinitely so they’d better figure out who did it quick. I’m just trying to keep everyone fed. Kyle should be helping me, but Kyle is…” she stopped and looked up. “Kyle.”
If that was supposed to cement ideas in Molly’s head, it didn’t. “What happens if the wedding is off?” They obviously didn’t know about Blake’s arrest.
Shannon pushed off the counter and started straightening up the kitchen. “We go when the police say we can. There’s enough food here to feed everyone for days. Police included. But now that Skyler’s gone, there’s no restrictions on food, so it’s not like they can’t bring in other food.”
Molly stepped forward, under the guise of helping, but her skin tingled with awareness. “Restrictions?”
Shannon opened the dishwasher, glancing briefly at Molly. “Skyler had some allergies so only approved ingredients and foods were allowed in her kitchen.”
Some allergies? “Oh. That must have been hard, being around food and not being able to taste certain things.” Molly had seen enough of Master Chef to know that tasting your dishes mattered.
Shannon smiled, collecting the plates Molly had carried in. “Hence the restrictions. That way, she could taste everything. She didn’t touch anything she didn’t make.”
Which meant that whoever poisoned her, knew about her allergies. “How well-known were Skyler’s allergies?”
Shutting the dishwasher, the chef furrowed her brows. “It wasn’t common knowledge. She kept it under wraps, but it doesn’t matter now. Obviously, as her staff, we had to know.”
Kyle probably knew more than most people who worked alongside her. His sadness over the breakup suggested they were more than now and again lovers. He might have hurt her, but he cared about her, too. Would she have trusted him implicitly? Skyler didn’t seem like the kind of woman who trusted anyone other than herself. Or maybe someone she’d known a very long time.
“You were the sous chef in the contest Skyler won?”
It could have been Molly’s imagination, the light in the room, or the fact that she was tired and wanted nothing more than to curl up with Sam, but Shannon’s features stiffened. Her shoulders went just a little straighter. Her eyes widened and her mouth firmed. She pulled a cloth from one of the bins on the floor—supplies—and began wiping the counter, giving Molly her back.
“I get so tired of talking about how she won some small-town contest.”
Not exactly an answer. She stared at the woman, waiting.
“We’ve known each other a long time. Our professional journeys began together.”
Molly took that as a yes, but was still trying to decide if Shannon was choked up over the loss of her friend, or if she’d simply pushed too far, when Kyle walked in. The bridesmaid he’d been chatting with had her arm looped through his.
“Sorry about the mess, Shan. Was going to help, but got preoccupied.” He glanced at Molly, gave her a once-over with his eyes that had her skin crawling. The redhead on his arm either didn’t notice or mind. Kyle picked up the box Shannon had carried in and opened the top. “Mind if I take these up to her room with us?”
Molly’s mouth nearly dropped open.
Shannon turned and faced him, giving the bridesmaid a once-over that, had she been paying attention, would have had her quivering. There was no softness in her gaze and it changed her features entirely.
“I suppose you’re not coming back to the hotel tonight?” Shannon said.
Kyle had the nerve to wink at her. “Don’t worry, love. I won’t be long. Be back by the time you clean this up. Wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone at Murder Motel.”
Shannon cringed and the bridesmaid clued into the conversation enough to do the same. Molly felt bile rise in her throat at his crass behavior.
“You seem like you’ve gotten over the break-up reasonably well,” Molly said, without giving her words much thought.
Kyle’s fingers scrunched the white box, creating a dent. “Who are you? Wait, you were in here the other night. Upsetting Skyler.”
“Molly. I live on the property. I was at the hospital after Skyler’s body arrived. Saw you there.” She left the words hanging in the air.
His gaze turned mean, those dark eyes narrowing and even though he didn’t move, Molly felt crowded. “You know the old saying, the best way to move on from loss is to celebrate life.”
Shannon made a sound of disgust. “Pretty sure that’s not a saying. There is one about a snake in the grass though.”
“Maybe I should wait upstairs,” the bridesmaid said to Kyle.
He smiled at her, the sinister gaze disappearing like a puff of smoke. “Do that, doll. I’ll be up in a minute.”
He watched her go with a lecherous grin then turned back to Shannon and Molly, doing a complete Jekyll and Hyde.
“What’s your problem, Shannon?” Kyle stepped closer to the petite woman and Molly wondered if he’d do anything stupid with a witness.
Shannon didn’t cower. “My problem is you. We still have a job to do. I can’t do it by myself and you’re getting paid right along with me. You act all broken up over Skyler and then you hook up the first chance you get.”
“Skyler and I were over before we began. High maintenance chicks never stick around for long. And I’ve done my job. There isn’t even a wedding happening.”
Molly didn’t know how to interject to ask a question when she thought she might have to step between them to break up their argument.
“You’re both upset about the loss of Skyler. Maybe everyone should call it a night and get some rest.”
Both of them looked at her. “Unfortunately, I’m not okay with doing my job halfway so I can’t leave the kitchen like this,” Shannon said.
“It’s some dishes and leftovers, Shannon, not a
seven course meal. Cut the drama. I’ll deal with breakfast tomorrow so you can get some sleep. Maybe it’ll put you in a better mood.”
Once again, they locked eyes. Molly remembered staring contests in grade school—no one wanted to break first.
“Does anyone else know about Skyler’s food allergies, other than you two?” Molly had to know.
Kyle turned to her and regarded her carefully, as if he was deciding whether he could trust her. She didn’t need his trust and he certainly didn’t have hers. At the moment, he was racing to the top of her suspect list.
“Skyler kept that information close. We sign a nondisclosure clause. But before you go blaming anyone, lady, remember Shannon and I have nothing to gain with Skyler dead.”
Molly nodded, keeping her expression neutral. The truth was, murder wasn’t always about gain. In fact, it was more often about revenge. “I wasn’t suggesting such a thing. There’ll be a brief story in the local news tomorrow morning and I wondered if that would be something she’d want kept under wraps.” Sam might be able to read her, but these two couldn’t, so hopefully they’d believe what she said.
“It wasn’t something she spread around,” Shannon said, turning away and going back to the cleaning.
“But it must have been hard on her and on you guys,” Molly pushed.
“She could take care of herself. Never touched something she didn’t make on her own. Ever. There was nothing to spread around because she made sure it was never an issue.” Was he defending her? She knew people grieved in different ways. The hint of pain she heard in his tone made her wonder if that’s what he was doing. With the bridesmaid, the outburst…all of it. But the anger she’d seen in his eyes had been very real as well.
Kyle stared at her for a minute then, without even a glance in Molly’s direction, left the room.
The quiet tension made the room feel warm. Molly turned to leave, feeling oddly dismissed. Before she got to the door, Shannon spoke in a low voice.
