by Jody Holford
And how did Elizabeth factor in? The teen broke eye contact and looked around the office. Despite the gracefulness of her posture and the obvious polish, there was an air of uncertainty in her mannerisms.
“You okay, Molly?” Hannah asked as she slung her backpack over her shoulder.
Molly pasted a smile on her face, but inside, her stomach clenched as questions piled up in her brain.
“Fine. Just tired. I think I’m going to go get something to eat. Thanks for all your help today.”
“It was fun.”
Not ready to stop surveying the other girl yet, Molly blurted, “Savannah, your family has a long history in the community.”
The teen’s gaze met hers again. “Yes. We’re very proud of our legacy.”
“I enjoyed reading your interview with Hannah,” she said. Can you tell me more about your grandmother or maybe some family secrets that would lead to a man’s death? Yeah, that’d be real subtle, Molly.
Savannah looked down for a moment, then back up. The way her lips curled up seemed practiced. The smile she gave was pleasant, but…odd. “We’re always happy to share our family history. The Phillips name is something we’re very proud of. Especially my parents.”
Molly didn’t know much about teens anymore, but she knew they didn’t talk in such stilted, rehearsed ways. Before Molly could reply, the teen’s mom, Clara, walked through the door looking every bit as lovely as Molly remembered. With a wide smile, she glanced at the girls.
“Savannah, honey, we need to get going. Hello, Hannah,” the woman greeted.
With her dark hair in a perfect bob, similar to her daughter’s, it was easy to see where Savannah got her proper posture and classic looks.
She gave Molly a warm smile, with just a hint of sadness. “Hi Molly. How are you doing? I should have found time to come and see you after the ordeal you’ve faced. What an awful thing.” She held out her hand.
Molly appreciated the concern, but wanted a break from talking about it. She accepted Clara’s hand. The woman’s palm was like silk against her own rough one. She dropped her hand, held Molly’s gaze. Molly considered the word ordeal and didn’t think it adequately described finding a dead body. An ordeal was working through City Hall red tape. Finding a dead body was…was…horrific.
“I’m fine. Thank you. How are you?”
Clara beamed. “Oh, I’m good. It’s a busy time of year for us, planning for the tourists and all. Thomas—my husband— is giving the eulogy for Vernon on Thursday, so I’ll introduce you then. It’s just so shocking that he’s gone. He was such a good reporter and Thomas will be sure to mention what he gave back to the community.”
Hannah and Savannah chatted quietly by the door, heads bent together. Clara sent them a quick glance. Molly tipped her head, curious.
It was honestly the first time she’d discussed Vernon with anyone and had them say anything positive. “Oh. That’s very kind of you. I’m sure your husband will be too busy to worry about meeting me, though. It’s not necessary.” Molly wasn’t sure a funeral was a great place for a meet and greet. Especially with the mayor.
Clara’s smile was tighter this time, more forced. “I feel like it is. I just can’t stop thinking about how awful Vernon’s passing is. He was interviewing my mama just the other day and now he’s… gone.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that. Such a shame.”
Guilt dug sharp claws into Molly’s chest, deflating her lungs. Clara ignored Molly’s silence.
“Mama was just so sad to hear of Vernon’s death. She really enjoyed the interview. They had a wonderful chat. Will you still be printing it?”
Confusion warred with guilt. Vernon certainly hadn’t enjoyed the meeting. “You don’t mind?”
Clara’s perfectly sculpted brows arched. “Not at all. No reason not to, right?”
Other than not actually having the interview, probably not. Molly had been so worried about being the catalyst for Vernon’s death, but if Clara and her mother still wanted the interview to go forward, maybe she really was digging under the wrong rock. She’d need to get her hands on the interview to honor this woman’s request, but if the meeting was as straightforward as Clara suggested, there was no reason to believe Vernon had uncovered anything unsavory about the family. Which let Molly off the proverbial hook, didn’t it?
“Mom, can we go?” Savannah called from the door.
Clara rolled her eyes a little, making Molly laugh. In a whispered voice she told Molly, “I’m not allowed to socialize if it interrupts her time.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she answered her daughter. “In a second, sweetheart.”
Clara turned back to Molly. “Please let me know if you need anything. We really are a community here in Britton Bay.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“I mean it. Anything you need. Let’s go, girls.”
“See you later, Molly,” Hannah said.
“Yeah. Nice to meet you, Savannah, and to see you again, Mrs. Black,” Molly replied.
Clara turned. “It’s Phillips. And it was really nice to see you too.”
Right. Molly watched them go, more confused than ever. She locked the front door behind them. After grabbing her laptop, her purse, and what was really starting to feel like her dog, she loaded up her Jeep. Uncertainty swirled around a pool of curiosity in her gut during the short ride home. Tigger kept his paws on the door, staring out the window as the trees and people whipped by.
Molly reached over and gave his back a pet. “Best thing about you is you stop me from eating out too much.”
And gave her company she hadn’t even realized she was craving. There was parking for the bed-and-breakfast guests near the front of the house, but like Molly, Katherine parked her vehicle around the back. Molly had her own gravel pad, but could easily see Katherine’s parking spot closer to the house. At the moment, there were two vehicles in that drive: Katherine’s—with the hood open—and a silver Chevy.
As she rounded the hood of the Jeep, Sam did the same to his mom’s car. She saw his smile even from a distance. Fortunately for her, he couldn’t see or feel how her heart decided to tap-dance at the sight of that smile. Oh man. There was no denying that seeing him lifted her spirits and her day in general. She might as well accept that and see where it went.
He was wearing coveralls again and Molly decided she was headed for murky waters if that got her heart pumping. With a wave, he called out, “How’s it going?”
She opened her passenger door and let Tigger out. He squirmed out of her arms and over to Sam.
“Good. Doing some side work?” Molly walked, making sure her pace did not reflect the excitement Tigger wasn’t too proud to share.
Sam crouched and rubbed behind Tigger’s floppy ears. “Hey, you. You still here? Don’t blame you. It’s a good place to be.”
Molly’s lips tipped up even as her heart fluttered. She pushed her hands into her pockets. “I haven’t found his owner. Or rather, the owner hasn’t found me.”
Sam stood, which prompted Tigger to flop down across Sam’s large shoe. “Make yourself cozy,” he laughed before looking up at Molly. “Just changing some spark plugs and the oil for my mom. If I don’t remind her, she’ll let it go. Easier to come here than nag her down to the station.”
Molly smiled. They took care of each other. It’d been a long time since anyone had taken care of her. Which is fine, because you can take care of yourself.
“You’re a good son.”
His shoulders lifted in a humble shrug. “She seems to think so. How was your day?”
Molly sighed. She didn’t mean to. It just came out. “Good. Mostly. It was my day off, but I had to work. Elizabeth got called down to the station for further questioning and Alan wanted to be with her.”
Darkness clouded Sam’s eyes. “My mom mentioned that. You thin
k it has something to do with the emails?”
That was exactly what she’d thought and it was really nice to have someone to discuss the idea with. “Possibly. Alan didn’t say they wanted to question him, but he insisted on needing to be there for her.”
His eyes cleared—clouds shifting to reveal a lighter shade of blue. “Because he’s a good man. They’ll get it all cleared up, I’m sure.”
“I hope so. Not to seem selfish, but the Bulletin can’t survive with me running it on my own and I moved here for the job.”
What was it about this man and his mother that made her voice things she hadn’t really even admitted to herself yet? Her job security had already been in question when Alan told Vernon it was time to save the newspaper or shut it down. Now, with Clay out of town—or not—Vernon gone, and the other two tied up in questioning, Molly didn’t know how long she could make it work with just her and Hannah.
“Don’t worry just yet. Hopefully, things with Elizabeth will get cleared up quick and she and Alan will both be back tomorrow. If you’re looking for staff writers, my cousin just moved back from college and does some writing. Her degree is in business communications.”
Tigger woke up just to chase his tail, making Molly laugh. She crouched down as she answered Sam. “If she’s interested, I’d love to chat with her. Soon, if she’s got time.”
“I’ll text her later.”
“Thanks.” She should go in and make something for dinner. Take a shower and do some research. She wanted to dig through the box and see what was there. If she couldn’t get Vernon’s interview, maybe she could piece some things together for herself and just allude to the story he was writing. Or, perhaps she could get ahold of Vanessa Phillips and redo the interview.
Sam ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at his mom’s car. “I have to finish this up, but won’t be long. You want to meet up for dinner at Come ‘n Get It in a while?”
Yes! She bit her lip and looked down at Tigger. When her eyes met Sam’s again, she felt like she was the one chasing her own tail—running in circles. Beats standing still.
“That sounds good. I have a few things I need to do, but I can meet you in just over an hour?”
Sam’s smile made her feel like she’d just snuggled into a warm jacket on a cold day. “Perfect.”
As if she wasn’t already in danger of acting like a silly teen, he kneeled down and clicked his tongue. Tigger bounded over to him. “Sorry, pal. No pets at Calliope’s.”
Molly laughed. “He’ll have to settle for kibble. I think he’ll survive, seeing as earlier he tried to eat paper.”
Sam gave the pup one last rub and stood up. Taking a couple steps backward, he continued to shoot that easygoing-sexy smile. “See you in a while.”
“Crocodile,” Molly said, then realized she’d actually said it out loud. Heat slapped at her cheeks. Could she be more of a dork?
Luckily for her, Sam appeared to like dorks, because his hearty chuckle carried through the air as she turned and walked away, shaking her head at herself.
Chapter 13
To avoid obsessing over what felt like an actual date with a guy who seemed as sweet as he was good-looking, Molly cleared her countertop and brought over the box she and Sam had taken from Vernon’s car. Carefully, she placed photos and newspaper articles on the smooth surface. Unfortunately for her, she could multitask, so thoughts of Sam and whether or not she should have agreed to dinner kept popping into her brain.
“Focus,” Molly said.
Tigger, thinking she was talking to him, yipped in agreement. She looked down at him. “You’re seconding the motion? Thanks, mister.”
He plopped his butt on the floor, waited a few seconds, then wandered over to grab one of his toys and nibble on it. “Some sidekick you are.”
There was a mix of items in the shoe-sized box. As she pulled it out of the backpack, the Post-it note Sam had grabbed from the car slipped. Grabbing it, she wondered if it had anything to do with the box. Knowing Vernon’s need to scribble his thoughts down, it could be nothing—just a scrap of paper he’d made a note on in his car. Macintosh…maybe he was looking for a new computer. Like her, he had a PC. Molly set it aside on the countertop and pulled the lid off of the box. There were several photographs of Vanessa as a teen—as Vernon had mentioned. She’d married into the Phillips family. Molly had already learned quite a bit about them.
The Phillips family was something of an institution in Britton Bay—which, aptly, had once been called Phillips Cove. In the early 1800s, while other men were settling in other areas along the Oregon coast, three brothers and their wives arrived in the small town just south of Astoria. From a wealthy family in London, the Phillips brothers decided that the small chunk of land overlooking the sea was a perfect spot to build the lives they wanted.
Molly picked up a faded and worn journal page and squinted to make out the words. One of the brothers’ wives was pregnant and all three of them had built homes beside each other. One of the brothers was working on a hotel, while another was building a saloon.
She was, quite literally, holding history in her hand. Setting the page down, she smiled as she picked up a grainy shot of two men outside of a building site, shovels in hand, smiling. There were a few letters between Vanessa and her husband, Charleston, but there were also fading photographs of Charleston’s father and grandfather. Quite the mix. Like a bunch of drawers were cleaned out and shoved into one box. She wasn’t even sure how to sort her findings. Remembering what she read online helped her fill in some gaps.
In the late 1800s, trading was happening further down the coast between indigenous people and European settlers. With that came the arrival of more families to the swatch of land the brothers had claimed for their own. Over time, the Phillips broods grew along with the town’s population. At one time, the library, town hall, general store, and schoolhouse had been named after the brothers. When one of the grandsons of the oldest brother, Britton, died of unknown causes at a young age, the town was renamed by the family as Britton Bay.
Molly found it both sad and incredibly heartwarming that they named it after the boy. The box was nearly overflowing with a seemingly random collection of memories. Molly checked the time and decided she could pour over things at a later time. For now, she wanted to empty the box and see what was there. By the time she’d emptied it, she knew there were many stories to be told right there, but she wasn’t sure that any of them would have incited murder.
She’d dig in more when she got home from her da—dinner with a friend. While she styled her hair, choosing to flatiron it, she wondered if she was grasping at straws—or photographs. Was there anything in what Vernon found that led him to something he had no right to dig into? She knew that he liked to poke at peoples’ weaknesses. Had he found one with this family? Or maybe he’d stumbled across something that had nothing to do with the Phillipses at all. She often found items in places they had no business being, so what if there’d been a link to something else randomly tucked away in this old family treasure trove? Vernon would capitalize on anything he could—regardless of who it hurt.
Pleased that she managed to get ready with twenty minutes to spare, Molly picked up her phone and dialed Elizabeth’s number. As it rang, she sat down on the couch, her hip touching a curled up, sleepy Tigger.
“Hello,” Elizabeth said.
“Hi Elizabeth. It’s Molly. I wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing.”
She put her feet up on the table and scratched Tigger’s back absentmindedly. If Elizabeth had been arrested and locked up, she wouldn’t be answering her phone, so Molly took that as a good sign.
“Oh. That’s sweet of you. I was just making some tea and then heading to bed. The day has been exhausting. I’m so sorry that we left you with everything today. And on your day off too.”
Molly closed her eyes. She just didn’t
see this woman as a murderer, regardless of her secrets or the veiled threat in the email. But it doesn’t make sense that she’d have an affair, either. You don’t really know her. How well can you really know anyone? As her ex had proven, even living with someone didn’t translate to really seeing them.
“You have nothing to apologize for. I’ve been worried about you. Alan said they wanted to question you?”
Molly thought about circling around the topic and waiting for Elizabeth to open up, but she didn’t want to wait.
“They did. It was awful. It felt like being on trial. They had the completely wrong idea,” Elizabeth said.
Molly heard the woman’s voice break and her own heart clenched. “Do the police know that now? That it was all a misunderstanding?”
Please tell me what the misunderstanding was.
Elizabeth sniffled into the phone. “As if his father wasn’t a nasty enough man, Clay decided to pick up where Vernon left off. He told the police that Vernon was blackmailing me. He told them I had motive to want him dead.” She paused and Molly’s heart hammered against her rib cage. So Clay knew about the emails too. When had he told this to the police? There was a very real possibility that he hadn’t left town or at the very least, had returned sooner than anyone had expected him to. In time to leave prints outside her window? She wondered if Officer Beatty had taken a closer look at the photos or Clay’s story.
“He was right in that Vernon was blackmailing me, but I didn’t hurt him over it. They said they had to follow through on any threats. Which is pretty ironic, considering the threat Vernon posed. It was…humiliating.”
They’d let her go, so they must have been satisfied. Elizabeth didn’t mention the emails, but she didn’t know Molly knew. Molly bit back her frustrated groan and stood up. Opening the back door, she let Tigger run out in the yard.
