by Jody Holford
“What if I don’t want the vanilla?” He was distracting her when she shouldn’t be letting herself get distracted. She had the distinct feeling he was doing it on purpose.
Sam gestured to the half shake now in front of her. “Taste it and then tell me you don’t want it.”
The creamy explosion of flavor made her sigh. Taking a long sip, she closed her eyes, wondering where these had been all her life. When she opened her eyes, Sam’s expression was smug.
“Told you.” He checked his watch.
“I’ve pulled you away from work,” she said, wondering what she’d do with the rest of her day.
“No. Not at all. I do need to get back, though.”
They finished their shakes and Molly appreciated the quiet without the solitude. When she stood, she saw Callan eyeing her in a way that made her nerves jump. Was he a man who would hurt someone to get what he wanted? Maybe she needed to ask Calliope more about the argument the amazing shake maker had had with Vernon. But not now.
Sam and Molly walked back to his service station. When they got there, he stared at her a moment. Her thoughts were still on Vernon, but more specifically, on his easy dismissal of the story he’d been working on. What if he’d lied? If he’d found something truly interesting, she was the last person he’d share it with.
Sam touched her shoulder. “Listen, I was going to swing by my mom’s tonight after work. Do you maybe want to take a walk later or something?”
Molly blinked, realizing that if what she wanted was where she thought it might be, she could use his help. She bit the inside of her lip. He was good-looking and sweet. He’d shown her more kindness and compassion in twenty minutes than her ex had in their entire relationship—which she knew didn’t speak well of her previous choices. Maybe she hadn’t been the best judge of character in that instance, but it didn’t mean her entire radar was skewed. It was easy to see and feel that Sam was different. Enticingly different. There was a chance they could go on an actual date some time. Unless she completely scared him away with her idea.
“Uh… you thinking about it?” He pushed a hand through his dark hair and lowered his gaze. She wondered if any woman had turned him down for a date, then wondered if any woman had asked something as crazy as she was about to.
“No. I’d like that, but…I—listen, there’s something I need to get,” she started.
His eyes came back to hers. “Okay.”
Molly took a deep breath. “Vernon got a box of photos and things from Vanessa Phillips. But they weren’t anywhere in the living room. Which is where his desk was and where he was.”
Sam arched a brow. “Okay.”
“I think they’re in his car. Which I’m guessing is locked.”
Both brows arched. Your talent to end something before it has a chance to begin is truly remarkable. No. She couldn’t think like that. A man had been murdered and it was quite possible it had something to do with what he’d found. In order to get the police to look in that direction, she needed to see what he’d stumbled across.
“Molly?”
She inhaled and exhaled hard and fast. Clutching her hands together, she blurted out her question. “Do you know how to break into a car?”
Chapter 7
Sam’s mouth hung open and in the instant Molly thought he’d tell her to go fly a kite, preferably far away from him, he smirked.
“You’re an interesting woman, Molly Owens. I’ll pick you up at nine. I’m thinking the cover of night works best for your nefarious plan,” he said.
He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe her suggestion. Or his own agreement. A man who’d come along willingly, without looking at her like she was a loony tune, could be trouble for her heart. But this wasn’t about her feelings. It was about figuring out what Vernon was up to. Being able to spend time with Sam was just a welcome bonus.
Molly walked back to the newspaper office and went around the back. She was almost at the door when someone shuffled behind her, making her jump and turn, smacking her back against the concrete building. She looked around and saw nothing in the back alley, other than a dumpster offering the faint scent of days-old garbage. Further down, cars were parked behind the various shops, but it looked as if the Bulletin staff had gone home. Molly wasn’t ready to. She heard another noise and though her stomach danced like a bouncy ball, she continued to scan the area.
When she heard a growl, she thought racoon, but when a little white tail wagged into view her heart leaped. The rest of the body, starting with the back end, shuffled into view and Molly watched from a distance. The dog, a white and black breed she couldn’t identify, was pulling on something behind the dumpster. It continued to tug and Molly’s heart kept its steady pace. Giving one final tug, the dog fell on its haunches as a small stuffed bear, or what was left of it, flew through the air.
Laughter rumbled from Molly’s chest. She let out a fast breath, opening her palm over her erratic heartbeat. The pup whimpered like he couldn’t understand how the toy had bested him. Its head was barely attached and the stuffing coming out of the bright purple belly made Molly think of an exploding eggplant.
“It’s okay, bud. That thing is probably dirty anyway,” Molly said, taking a tentative step forward.
The pup, as if just realizing it had an audience, bounded over, tail wagging and tongue leading the way.
Molly crouched down, unable to hold back a smile. What a cutie. “Hey. You lonely? Where’s your owner?”
She checked for a tag and found nothing but fur. Her—oops, his, little black nose was surrounded by a patch of white, while the rest of his head, including adorable floppy ears, were black. Molly glanced around once again while she gave the little guy some rubs.
“Aren’t you friendly? Where’d you come from?”
Wondering if she should go to the various shops and ask around, Molly sighed. Despite it being barely noon, her energy was at an all-time low. Likely, word of Vernon’s murder would have gotten around by now and with it, news that she’d found the body. She wasn’t ready to repeat the story a dozen times and knew the best way to avoid that was to get the story out officially. Pulling her work key from her pocket, she let herself into the building. Holding the door open and whistling to the pup, she smiled when he followed her. Ahhh, blind trust.
Had Vernon trusted whoever killed him? Molly left the main overhead lights off inside. The back door led to a small room where staff hung their coats and old copies of newspapers piled up. She wandered through, having no trouble seeing with the way the sunshine poured in through the picture window. The pup followed behind her as if she’d taken him on an adventure. She smiled down at him. When she looked up, her eyes landed on Vernon’s desk. Thoughts of how he’d died, when, and at whose hands assaulted her mind. Would she have had so many questions if she hadn’t been the one to find him? Probably. It wouldn’t have sat well regardless, but being the one to see him like that…to find him like that…added layers to her interest.
Walking slowly, she rounded Vernon’s desk and sat in his chair. He had a desktop computer, but she’d only seen him work on his laptop. Hmm. His laptop…had it been on his desk? She didn’t want to close her eyes and try to picture the desk, because everything else would come rushing forward. She didn’t remember seeing it.
No one was in the office, but still, Molly opened the first drawer of Vernon’s desk with a quiet slowness. Inside, she found pens, paper clips, several packs of gum, Post-it notes in every color, and an unused pocket calendar. She shut that one and opened the next. A bottle of scotch, nearly empty, rolled forward. The memory of the scent in the air had her swallowing down a nauseous feeling. At least he was consistent. She went through the whole desk and found nothing of consequence. Leaning back in his chair, her throat tight, she glanced around and realized the pup was not at her side.
Oh no. Please don’t use the floor as a bathroom
. “Pup. Come here, pup.”
She found him in Alan’s office, curled up on the leather love seat that sat against the far wall. Molly smiled.
“Aw. You’re a sweetie. Did you wear yourself out with your bear battle?”
The pup’s ears perked, but he kept his head down. Molly sat on the couch and pet him. In seconds, he was snoring softly. Perhaps it was silly, but the dog’s presence settled some of the unease she was carrying around. Molly rested her head against the back cushion, her eyes staring up at the popcorn ceiling. How had this happened?
Murder was something people read about in papers; something she’d instruct her staff to write about. Not something she got up close and familiar with. She should call her parents. Tori. Someone. Her mind drifted back to Sam. It would be easy to let her thoughts focus on the way his fingertips had felt against her skin or the way he looked at her like no one else was around. Stay on task. But which task? Molly sighed loudly, gaining the pup’s attention. She pet his head and he closed his eyes again. So easily content. Maybe she should go home. Instead, she sat, restlessness coursing through her veins.
She bounced her knee up and down distractedly and looked around Alan’s office. It was welcoming, in a masculine way. His desk was a large, dark, plain rectangle. On the shelves behind his desk there were dozens of books and framed photographs. There were awards for the paper. Molly stood to have a closer look.
Picking up one of the pictures, she studied it. She knew very little about her boss, but she’d guess by the way the group stood together in front of a large, white boat, the first picture was his family. Alan stood, suntanned and smiling—which made him look far less reserved than he did in the office—with his arm around a petite blond woman. Beside her was a younger blonde resembling the first and on Alan’s other side was a dark-haired, tall boy who looked ready to be a man. Had to be his wife and kids. There were more photos of him with the same people. He looked so…happy in those photos. So why the affair? You don’t know he’s having an affair! Stop jumping to conclusions. God. Molly felt like she’d landed in a prime-time soap opera. Possible affairs, death, and broody, suspicious young men.
Definitely not anything she’d counted on when she’d said yes to the job in this quiet little cove of a town. Molly turned, resigned to going back to the carriage house. At least there, she’d be able to do something productive. Working for a newspaper meant delivering the news and Molly was the perfect person to do it. The one who should have been the most removed. She didn’t want to bother Alan with the printing press, so she’d do an article and post it on their website, Facebook page, and Twitter. Like anyone even has Twitter in this town. Other than the mayor, his wife, some of the teachers at the high school and their students, Molly didn’t think it was a strong source of communication in Britton Bay. But it was a way to share the story.
When she finished that, maybe she could get some laundry done, answer some emails, or make something for dinner that didn’t come out of a box. Feeling steadier with a plan, she turned to leave and saw the crumpled paper Alan had been reading earlier, sitting on his desk. Still folded, like he’d tossed it there earlier. Mind your own business. Don’t do it. She inched closer. Don’t. Why’d he leave it right there? On his private desk in his private office? Don’t! But she did.
She picked up the paper and unfolded it, looking down at the printed copy of an email exchange. It was between Elizabeth and Vernon. The recently departed writer had been threatening to reveal what he knew of Elizabeth’s relationship at the next public town meeting and to Alan’s wife. Molly scanned the emails. He didn’t even seem to want anything. He just continued to tell her he knew and that knowing was to his advantage. Elizabeth’s responses were short and concise: You’re a vile man with nothing better to do than harass people. I’m warning you, don’t do this.
Molly’s fingers tightened on the paper. Tears filled her eyes. She was sorry that Vernon died and she didn’t condone affairs, for whatever reason, but how could the man be so malicious? To live his life just looking for ways to hurt people. What goes around, comes around. Though it didn’t make her feel like a good person to think it, the sentiment was all too true in his case. Had Elizabeth or Alan felt the same way? Both of them had come in late this morning. So had Clay. Her stomach clutched at the thought of all of these people—who she was coming to know and like… well, most of them—having motive to kill Vernon.
Molly put the paper back and called the pup. She put a sign in the window that described the dog and said to contact her at the paper if he’d been lost. For now, she was desperate enough for company to bring him home.
The pup didn’t seem to mind the car ride. He sat in the front seat, paws on the windowsill and watched Main Street go by. When she pulled up to the bed-and-breakfast, she drove around back to the parking spot near her place. Her smile bloomed without warning when she saw Katherine pouring drinks for a couple sitting on the back deck. The yard was well manicured, with strategically placed flower beds that created little walkways. The dog barked and Molly bit her lip. Perhaps she hadn’t thought this through. She didn’t even have a leash. When she got out of the car, she rounded the hood to grab the pup.
Katherine said something to her guests and met Molly at her car.
“You poor thing. How are you?” Katherine pulled her into a hug before she could open the door. Molly welcomed the embrace and the comfort. The dog went nuts against the window, clawing at it and yipping excitedly.
Before Molly could answer, Katherine laughed. “Who is your friend?”
When Katherine pulled back, Molly missed the feeling of warmth. She missed her own mom, her dad, and her best friend. Especially in this moment. She sniffled and gave a watery laugh.
“He was fighting a stuffed bear outside the Bulletin. No tags. I didn’t want to just leave him and I wasn’t up for going door-to-door to find the owner. I left a note in the window of the news office. I’ll ask around tomorrow, but I should have checked with you first. I’m sorry.”
Sam’s mom waved Molly’s concern away. “I’d have done the same thing. Let’s get the little guy out of there.”
She opened the door and the frantic dog practically jumped into the woman’s arms, making Katherine belly laugh.
“You are an excitable little guy, aren’t you?”
“I really didn’t think this through. I don’t have anything for him. Maybe I should take him to a shelter?” Molly pulled her laptop and bag from the Jeep as she spoke. Not what she wanted to do, but she really had no right to have brought a pet home.
Katherine continued to snuggle the pup. “I was so sad when we had to put our dog down last year. She was fourteen years old and the sweetest thing. I still have her kennel and dish. Why don’t I dig them out?”
Molly’s heart squeezed tightly, stealing her breath. “Are you sure? Thank you. I don’t want to put you out.”
Katherine’s eyes met hers. “Honey. After the day Sam told me you’ve already had, please don’t worry about it. In fact, I saved you some lunch. It’s just terrible what’s happened and I can’t even imagine seeing what you saw.”
Molly bit her lip to staunch the tears, but still had to blink rapidly to hold them at bay. She barely knew these people and had already asked this woman’s son to break into a vehicle. Toning down the crazy would not happen if she burst into tears.
A car door shut and both women turned to see the sheriff walking toward them. Molly’s gut seized.
“Afternoon, Katherine. Ms. Owens.”
“Good afternoon, Sheriff,” Katherine greeted. She leaned into Molly. “Let me just take the pup with me for now and you can get him settled after you’re finished here.”
Molly nodded and held the sheriff’s gaze as he came closer. The couple on the deck watched curiously and Molly couldn’t blame them.
“How you doing, Ms. Owens?”
She attempted a smile
. “I’m okay and please call me Molly.”
“All right then, Molly. You’ve picked a good place to settle. You’re new in town. Where you from?”
Appreciating the small talk as it gave her shoulders a chance to unwind, she forced a deep breath in and out. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she shoved them into the pockets of her dress pants. “Lancaster, California.” She looked around the yard. “I agree. This place is perfect.”
“Katherine wouldn’t have it any other way.” He looked toward the house where the woman in question was showing off the pup. Molly skin warmed. Was that more than simple admiration she heard in the sheriff’s voice?
He looked down again, meeting Molly’s curious gaze. “Can we chat inside?”
Tension burrowed back under her rib cage. Leading the way, she let them both into the carriage house. Grateful she’d gone shopping, she opened the fridge and pulled out two cans of cola.
“You want one?”
“Actually, I won’t be here long, but thank you.”
Nice as he was, she was glad he wouldn’t be staying. She put one can back and busied herself with grabbing a glass and ice. He waited patiently, which she supposed was part of his job. He had a friendly face to go with his seemingly laid- back nature.
“Alan says you and Vernon didn’t hit it off,” the sheriff said.
Molly’s fingers wrapped around her glass and the cold pressed against the cut her cell-phone case had caused earlier.
“No. He definitely wasn’t happy with my arrival.”
The sheriff nodded and pulled out his notepad, writing that down. He flipped a page before looking up again, his light blue eyes pinning her to her spot.
“Did you argue?”
She’d done nothing wrong, but it took effort to keep the defensiveness out of her tone. “We talked on the phone Thursday night. He was pursuing a story I’d asked him to dig deeper on, but he told me it was boring and uneventful. When I asked him to send it to me, he snapped at me and hung up.” Realization rocked her back on her feet. “Am I a suspect?”
