by Cindy Kline
The woman pushed the cash drawer closed and came around to him. She took him by the arm and sat him in a chair. He sat down and laid his head back. What is going on? He’d never felt this bad before.
“Sir, what’s your name?”
He looked up briefly as another wave of cramps hit his stomach. He gritted his teeth as he answered, “Henry. Henry Pierce.”
He heard the other woman say, “Is he okay? Maybe we should call an ambulance. He doesn’t look very well.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Can you grab my cell phone? It’s underneath the counter in my purse.”
He looked up then, dropping his hands. “I don’t need an ambulance. It’s just my ulcers acting up. I just need my medicine.” They were both standing over him. The other woman, probably the same age as what was her name? Molly, that’s it. The two women appeared to be about the same age, early thirties, maybe, but this one had dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was quite pretty as well, with big brown eyes. Her figure wasn’t bad, either.
“Where is your medicine?” Molly asked.
He tried to smile. “At home, unfortunately.” He drank the entire bottle of water and held it out for someone to take the empty bottle. The dark-haired one took it, and he stood up. Just then, a wave of dizziness hit him. He held onto the back of the chair until it passed and started for the door.
“Thank you, ladies. I appreciate the help.” Henry opened the door, making the bell jingle as he did so, and tried to remember where he parked. He spotted the red sports car not too far away and headed for it. He held his key fob out and hit a button. The lights flashed twice and then went dark. He got in, and once again, laid his head back against the seat.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the window. He opened his eyes and saw Molly looking back at him. He tried to open the window but realized he hadn’t started the car, so instead, he opened the door.
“Molly, isn’t it?”
“Look, you’re obviously not all right. Is there someone I can call? Your wife maybe?”
He shook his head. “She’s out of town. I’ll be fine.”
He heard her mumble something under her breath in Gaelic. It had been a while, but he understood what she’d said, and he tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.
“Look, don’t be such an ass. You’re not fine, and you need to get your medicine.” She pulled on his arm. “Get out of the car.”
Bossy, isn’t she? He pulled himself out of the car, and she pushed the button on the armrest to lock it. She then took hold of his arm and led him away from his car.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you home.”
Another voice, the other woman, said, “Molly, do you think that’s such a good idea? I told you the reputation he has.”
Molly laughed. “He can barely keep his head up. I don’t think I’m in any danger. I’m sure I’ll be fine. But if you’re concerned, why don’t you follow us in your car?”
The next thing he knew, she pushed him into the passenger side of a car with really nice leather seats. Molly got into the driver’s side and started the car. The stereo was on full blast, and she pushed the button to turn it off.
“Sorry about that.” She pulled out of the parking spot and then stopped. “Where am I going?”
“I live on Coastal Highway. Head for the lighthouse.”
“They’ve built a new housing complex out there, haven’t they? I read about it. It’s supposed to be quite nice.”
“Yes.” Another wave of pain went through his stomach.
“Are you sure you shouldn’t be going to the hospital?”
He sighed. Why wouldn’t this woman listen to him? “Yes, I’m sure. It’s just an ulcer attack.”
After what seemed like forever, they pulled into the driveway of his home, another car pulling in behind them. He’d forgotten the friend was following them. Like I’m in any shape to make a pass at her. But to be honest, if I was, I probably would have. I’m such a son-of-a-bitch.
Henry pulled himself out of the car and up to the front door, pulling his keys out of his pants pocket. He unlocked the door and pushed it open and flipped on the hall light. He walked in, the two women following him. Henry went into the living room and laid down on the couch.
“Where is your medicine?” Molly followed him into the dark living room and turned on a light switch, illuminating the large room.
“Upstairs in the master bedroom, on the nightstand.”
“Ciara, why don’t you get him some water, and I’ll get his medicine.”
A few minutes later, Molly was standing over him, reading the instructions on the bottle. She took his hand and shook two pills into it, while the other woman handed him a glass of water, then looked at her phone.
“Molly, I have to take off. Will you be okay here?”
He swallowed the pills and drank half the water, setting the glass down on the coffee table.
“I’ll be fine. You go home and give my love to Aiden and the kids.”
He laid back down and closed his eyes. “There’s no need for you to stay. I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure there isn’t anyone I can call for you?”
He thought of Megan but decided that wasn’t such a good idea. He shook his head. “Is there a taxi service or something around here? I must get my car in the morning.”
She let out a really pleasant laugh. “There is one, and it’s run by Herb Weston, who is usually so hungover he doesn’t start until about noon. Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick you up in the morning and take you back to your car. Is eight o’clock too early?”
“Eight is fine.” He closed his eyes.
“I’ve set two pills here on the coffee table for you in case you need them, and there is still some water left in your glass if you need it.”
His head was spinning, but he needed to say something, “Molly?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. And thank your friend too.”
“I will.” She smiled. “Now, get some sleep.”
Chapter Three
Molly wondered what on earth made her offer a ride to a complete stranger, especially after what Ciara told her. It was all rumor, but didn’t a rumor usually start with a speck of the truth? Supposedly he was quite the ladies’ man. She couldn’t really see why, but then he was old enough to be her father. She could see how he could have been handsome when he was younger, though. She walked over to the fireplace on the far wall, eyeing numerous photographs on the mantle.
Her eyes glanced at the wedding photo of him and his bride. His wife was at his side, her dark hair in an up-do, wisps of curls surrounding her heart-shaped face. She was looking up to him, the love she felt for him glowing like a sunbeam through the clouds. Her long gown was gorgeous, her light honey tan looking magnificent against the white satin gown. Molly had to admit Henry looked quite dashing in his tuxedo.
Most of the other photos were of a small, smiling boy, his hair the same shade as his mother, with big, green eyes. As Molly’s eyes moved from one picture to the next, it was like a slideshow of his life. The newborn picture showed a sleeping baby wrapped in a blanket with a blue hat. Then there were pictures taken each year of his life, ending with him standing in front of the Trinity College library. The chubby little boy was all grown up, now as tall as his father and rail-thin, his parents on each side of him, all with enormous smiles.
Over the fireplace was a giant professional photo of the three of them, all dressed in white-collared shirts and jeans, taken in the fall, the leaves on the trees having turned from green to gold, yellow and orange. They were all smiling, and Molly couldn’t help but be a little envious. Her dream didn’t quite turn out that way. As she looked at the picture, there was something about Henry that reminded her of someone, but she didn’t know who.
She turned from the fireplace and looked around the room. There was a Christmas tree in the corner, at least ten feet tall, ornaments sparkling, presen
ts underneath, with a string of popcorn and cranberries adorning the tree. It was lovely.
Her gaze turned to the man lying on the couch. His face was still quite pale, but his breathing was even and he was no longer sweating. He looked the same as the picture over the fireplace, although his hair had receded a little further and had turned gray. Like older Irish men, he now sported a beer paunch and his face was a little fuller, but I could see that dashing young man from the wedding photo still there. If even a part of the rumors were true, how did he make such a mess of his life?
She pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and laid it over him, turned off all the lights and closed the door, making sure she locked it. As she walked to her car, she texted Ciara that she was leaving the Pierce house and headed home, knowing she’d worry until she’d done so.
Molly started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. She knew little about Henry Pierce or Moore Plastics other than what she’d heard from other people. She’d been so busy these past six months since she moved back to Dooley, she had paid little attention to what was going on in town. Right after she’d arrived back, she’d gotten reluctantly involved in a murder investigation, which ended in her getting hurt. After she’d recovered, she had to deal with taking over the bookstore and moving into Rose Cottage. Tragedy struck again a month later when her grandfather passed away from a massive heart attack, and her grandmother moved in with her. Her parents had tried to talk Gran into moving in with them, but Gran resisted, knowing she’d get along much better with her daughter if they didn’t live together. So, Molly offered, and now they were roommates, and a much better one that her soon-to-be ex-husband ever was. At least Gran picked up after herself.
Then there was Liam. She’d met him on the plane coming over from the United States. Their chemistry was so strong she’s surprised they didn’t short out the plane’s electronics. They said goodbye at the airport but met up later when Liam turned up as the Garda detective inspector in charge of investigating the murders. They’d started dating afterward, but although she received several text messages, she hadn’t seen him in over three weeks. She knew he was working on a big case, but it didn’t make it any easier. Maybe if he lived closer, but he lived in Ballyquicken, a forty-five-minute drive on a good weather day.
Molly drove home, her headlights guiding her down the desolate roads. She passed the lighthouse, the large white and red striped tower looming over the cliff, guiding ships through the treacherous waters of the Atlantic. She shivered, thinking of all the people who lost their lives in that endless body of water.
Her mind wandered back to Henry Pierce. Who was it he reminded her of? She knew it would come to her eventually if she stopped trying to figure it out, so she put it out of her head.
If you viewed this area from the air, it would look like a sliver of a moon. Both slivered ends were high cliffs overlooking the Atlantic. On one end was the Dooley Lighthouse, the Pierce home and the new housing complex. Then comes the inside of the sliver representing the town of Dooley and the cove where the waters are calmer and warmer and bring thousands of tourists to the area every summer. The other slivered end is where Rose Cottage was located. She’d inherited the cottage from a friend who passed away, and as she drove into the garage, she couldn’t contain her happiness at being home. She loved the business the holidays brought in, but it exhausted her.
Luna met her at the door, her little golden tail wagged in greeting. Molly’s heart burst as she picked her up, realizing she was almost too big for her to do so, and she laughed as Luna licked her face. She placed a kiss onto the dog’s furry head, set her down and noticed Gram sitting on the couch. She went over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Dressed in her comfy robe and slippers, she had a bowl of popcorn in front of her, along with a glass of wine. The bottle was sitting on the coffee table, along with an extra glass.
She nodded toward it, “Is that for me?”
Gram nodded, sitting up and pouring her a glass of the sparkling white wine. She handed it to her as she asked, “There’re leftovers for you if you’re hungry. You’re home late. Were you busy today?”
Molly explained to her what happened as she sipped her wine and munched a handful of popcorn.
“I know his mother-in-law, Shannon Moore. We’re on the town’s gardening committee together. She’s very nice and knows just about everything there is to know about flowers and plants. If half of what Shannon as told me is true, you’d better watch your step with that Henry Pierce.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. I’m young enough to be his daughter. Does the garden committee meet in the winter?” Molly took another handful of popcorn.
“Yes, and no. Now we go to bingo on Wednesday nights at the church hall.”
“I thought you hated bingo.”
“It’s okay. I’m not as addicted as Shannon is, but it gives me something to do. Besides, it’s where I catch up on all the gossip. Mary Martin introduced me to Shannon. You remember her? She was a school chum of mine way back when. All her children have moved up north, and she hardly ever sees them. It’s so sad.” She shook her head and took a drink of her wine.
Molly had no idea who Gran was referring to, but it didn’t matter. She was more interested in Shannon Moore.
“What has Shannon told you?”
“She feels that Henry manipulated her ex-husband into leaving him the company. She’s happy for her daughter and grandson, of course, but she feels Ronan, that’s her ex-husband’s name, should have left it to a family friend who worked there since he was a teen.”
“Why?”
“He’s the one Shannon always thought Imogen would marry. They were a couple until Henry came on the scene. Shannon loves him like a son. I guess she is good friends with this man’s parents. The two of them, the son and Imogen I mean, grew up together.”
“So, where does Shannon live?”
“With Henry and Imogen. She’s in the same situation as I am, which is probably why we grew to be friends. When Henry and Imogen moved here from Dublin, they gave her the option of going into a home or moving with them. She moved. She’s very nice usually, as long as you don’t bring up Henry.” Gram threw a piece of popcorn to Luna, who caught it in midair. Molly smiled at the new trick.
“That’s interesting. If she moved here six months ago, then she’s divorced?”
“Yes, she divorced Ronan, Imogen’s father, a few years ago. Their oldest child, Patrick, was killed in a hit-and-run car accident. Ronan couldn’t get past it.”
Molly refilled her wineglass. “I can’t believe how Shannon would either.”
“I don’t think you ever get over such a thing, but she learned to move on with her life. However, when your husband is obsessed with finding the culprit, it’s hard to move on. It’s a constant reminder.”
“So why doesn’t she like Henry? I found him to be very charming.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t even know how we got talking about it.” She then nodded. “Wait. Yes, I do. I was talking about how long it was taking for your divorce to come through. She asked if I liked Keith. I told her I didn’t know him very well, but if you were divorcing him, there had to be a good reason. She wished her daughter felt the same way, but with Imogen being Catholic, she’d never give him a divorce. So, she moved with them to ‘keep an eye on things,’ whatever that means.”
“I have to admit, my being Catholic didn’t even factor into my decision. I just wanted out.”
Before Gran could comment, Luna rang the bell she’d placed on the back door to go out. Molly grabbed her raincoat she’d left on the chair in the kitchen, and she and Luna walked outside. The rain had let up some, but it was still coming down pretty hard. Luna did some sniffing around and then disappeared into the garden. Molly glanced out at the dark night, the motion light she’d had installed on the patio the only illumination in the dark yard. She could hear the ocean waves hitting the cliff, but on this rainy night, no lights were shining on the dar
k waters. A minute later, Luna reappeared, and she and Molly made their way inside.
Luna stopped right inside the door and sat down on a piece of rug kept there for occasions such as this. Molly grabbed a towel she kept on a convenient hook and wiped off the dog’s head, back and paws, then hung it back up to dry while Luna made her way into the kitchen.
Molly followed her and smiled at the dog sitting there looking pretty, her eyes on the bone-shaped jar kept on the cupboard. She opened the top, pulled out a bone and lowered it to the dog, who accepted it and made her way into the living room where her bed was located and began gnawing it contentedly.
“You spoil that dog,” Gran said from the couch.
Molly laughed. “I know, but she’s just so cute.” She went back to the living room and sat next to Gran, where they continued to watch the Agatha Christy movie. By the time the movie finished, so was their bottle of wine and the popcorn, so they called it a night and went to bed.
Molly woke up Tuesday morning to her alarm at half-past six. She hadn’t slept very well, the memory of Henry Pierce’s pale face invading her dreams. She went downstairs and let Luna out of her crate, and she immediately headed for the sliding glass door. Molly unlocked it and slid it open to let her out, the frigid air making her feel like she’d walked into a freezer. She quickly shut the door and headed for the kitchen. At least it wasn’t raining.
Molly started the electric kettle and pulled out tea from the cupboard, then poured Luna’s breakfast into her bowl, checking to make sure her water bowl was full. By this time, the puppy was ready to come in. Molly grabbed her tea and went to shower and dress.
Molly was making breakfast when her grandmother appeared, yawning as she walked from her bedroom, still dressed in her jammies.
“You’re up early. Would you like some breakfast?”
“You’re making breakfast?” Gram’s eyes opened wide. “You never make breakfast.”
She smiled. “By breakfast, I mean toast.”
