Deadly Ride

by Jody Holford

  “I don’t know. Stay there,” he said.

  A swell of nerves crested in her stomach. “Sam. Something doesn’t feel right.”

  She was beside him by the time he started walking closer to the vehicle. Their fingers locked around one another’s.

  “He’s probably just sleeping after having too much to drink.” Sam’s tone made his thoughts on that clear. He stopped, looked down at Molly. “Why don’t you stay here a minute?”

  She arched a brow at him, and one side of his mouth quirked up. “Worth a shot,” he said.

  Together, they walked closer, neither of them rushing. “Jet? Jet. Party is over, guy.” Sam’s voice was loud enough that even someone deeply ensconced in a vivid dream would have heard. Or stirred.

  But Jet didn’t. When they reached the side of the car, they both stopped, hand in hand by the open door. He looked so normal and peaceful, his head tilted to one side like he’d fallen asleep. But now that they were closer, it was easier to make out the dark stain and swelling on his temple. If it wasn’t for the deep gash and the utterly immobile silence, Molly wouldn’t have realized he was dead.

  Chapter Six

  A chill that put the early-morning ocean air to shame invaded Molly’s body. Her eyes went to Sam’s, and he stepped forward, crowding in front of her, one arm turning her from the view. She glanced over her shoulder as he went to Jet, leaned in with one hand, and pressed two fingers to the man’s throat. Sam came back to her, now crowding behind her, using his body as a shield.

  “He’s dead. Call 9-1-1. I’m going to call Chris. See how far away he is.” Then, as though he realized the implications of what was happening, his head whipped from one side to the other, and Molly did the same.

  “We’re alone,” she whispered.

  Sam stroked a hand down her hair. “All the same, stay by the hood where I can see you. I’ll call Chris.”

  She nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Her fingers clutched at the strap of her purse, but she was frozen.

  “Call 9-1-1, Molly.”

  Unzipping her purse, she fumbled through it a second before noticing that her hands were shaking. When she found the phone and her fingers clasped around it, a couple of pens and a pack of gum fell to the concrete floor.

  Sam was talking to Chris behind her, and his steady voice reminded her that help would be there within minutes. She took a deep breath and bent to pick up her things. One of her pens had rolled just under the hood of the vehicle, but as she reached out to grab it, she saw a silver, cylindrical object. She squinted. She’d seen the object more than once in the hands of Brad Templeton. It was a vape stick.

  “You okay?” Sam crouched down, picked up her pens and her gum, and put them in her purse. Taking her elbows, he stood. She needed to pull herself together. What was wrong with her? Unfortunately, she couldn’t even say she’d never seen a dead body before. But the blood and the way it congealed against his skin and beard where it’d trailed down…how had he managed to look peaceful with that kind of injury?

  “Molly?”

  “I’m okay.” Her brain was swirling at a quick tempo, one that matched the storm in her stomach, but she was okay.

  Sam pulled her into a hug, and she pressed her face into his chest, focused on breathing in and out.

  He spoke into her hair. “Chris has units on the way. He said not to touch anything and stay in a well-lit area. I’m not turning on more lights, though.”

  She wasn’t sure if his train of thought was the same as hers, but less light was better if there was any possibility that the killer was still nearby. Fear wrapped tiny, cold fingers around her heart.

  Leaning back, she looked up at Sam, kept her gaze focused on his. “There’s a vape stick under the hood. Brad Templeton had a vape stick. From the way he spoke about Jethro, he also had a grudge against him.”

  Sam closed his eyes, pressed his forehead snuggly to Molly’s like he could push better thoughts into her brain just from the contact. When he opened his eyes, his brows furrowed.

  “Molly.” Just the one word in a tone that said so much.

  “We’re the first people here, from the looks of it. We need to give Chris all of the details we can.”

  Sam’s lips tightened. She knew he worried about her safety, and maybe she’d given him reason a couple of times.

  “I’m pretty certain that part of police training includes sweeping a scene and looking for clues. So why don’t we just move to the side and wait. Like we were told to do?”

  She walked beside him, despite the fact that she wanted to scan the area around the car and see if there was anything else they hadn’t noticed. Molly had no desire to look at Jethro’s body again, but there might be something in the passenger seat or on the floor of the car that could give them information. It was too dark to look for a weapon. It had to have been something heavy. Hard. But without more light, she couldn’t see anything anyway.

  When they reached the wall, Molly leaned against it, very aware that Sam was still shielding her by standing in front of her. His wide shoulders blocked her view. Normally, she wouldn’t mind because looking at Sam was fast becoming one of her favorite hobbies.

  “I’m okay,” she told him again. “Are you?”

  Still watching her closely, he nodded. “Not how I thought the night would end.”

  Headlights shone into the barn a second before doors slammed. Chris led the way, but four uniformed officers followed directly on his heels.

  “Ryan, gather up the rest of the security guards and sweep the grounds. Enroy and Patrick, secure the scene. Wills, get ahold of the Portland ME’s office and get someone down here.”

  He strode their way, barking orders in a way that surprised Molly. Chris was good at his job, and she’d had the chance to see this several times. But he was usually more…reserved. Stopping in front of them, his eyes roamed over both her and Sam.

  “You guys okay?” His eyes were on Molly.

  “We’re fine,” Sam said.

  Chris turned to look at him. “I’m taking the lead on this one. Saron is either grooming me for his retirement or he’s getting lazy.”

  Molly and Sam both laughed, as they knew Chris intended. Sheriff Saron was anything but lazy, and Britton Bay was his home. If he was putting Chris in charge, he had the utmost confidence in him.

  “Need I ask why, once again, you’re where the dead bodies are, Molly?” He ran a hand through his dark hair.

  Sam’s arm immediately went around Molly’s shoulder. “Don’t be a jerk.”

  Chris’s eyes widened, but he nodded and locked eyes with Molly. “Sorry.”

  She shook off the irritation and, knowing they only had a few minutes before Chris made them leave the scene, shared her thoughts. “Brad Templeton, one of the drivers, has…had an issue with Jethro. I interviewed him and another man yesterday. He vapes. A lot. Brad, not the other man.” She was talking too fast and realized her adrenaline was still on high. “There’s a vape stick under the hood of the car.”

  Chris closed his eyes very briefly, then looked at Sam. “Take her home. I’ll send a deputy out to take both of your statements.”

  Molly bristled. Tired, irritated, wound up, and a little offended, she shook off Sam’s arm. “Take me home? I’m fully capable of taking care of myself, thank you. And just because you have some sort of issue with me being here doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take me seriously.”

  “Molly, he’s not blowing you off,” Sam said. His tone was hard, his comment a suggestion to his friend that he hoped what he said was true.

  Chris looked over his shoulder, and Molly saw that one of the deputies was crouched taking pictures under the hood of the vehicle.

  Looking back at Molly, he hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “We’re on it. I’m not blowing you off. At all. I just want you two away from the scene. Both o
f you. Seeing this kind of stuff is never easy, and I’d actually prefer that you let Wills take you both home, and he’ll do your statement while he’s there.”

  Lights flashed on, bright and startling. One of the deputies called out. “Think I found a weapon, boss.”

  All of them turned their heads in his direction but couldn’t see what he was looking down at. One of the other deputies walked over, looked back at Chris.

  “Crowbar. Out of place, but it’s clean from the looks of it.”

  Chris swore, looking back at Molly and Sam. “I’ll get Wills to take you home.”

  “I can drive, man.” Sam took Molly’s hand. She linked her fingers in his, grateful his were warm.

  “Fine. I’ll send him out as soon as he contacts the ME. I’ll touch base with you when I can.” Chris had gone into full-on cop mode. Officer Beatty. That was how Molly had been introduced to him the first time she’d found a body. She shivered, and Sam turned to her.

  “Come on. Chris is right. Let’s go home.”

  Molly couldn’t help her tone when she said, “Thanks for coming so quickly, Officer Beatty. Let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”

  He rolled his eyes, and the corners of his lips quirked. “Thank you, Ms. Owens.”

  Sam tugged on her hand, a touch of a smile on his lips. “He’s going to lock you up for irritating an officer.”

  “That’s not a thing,” Molly said. Almost confidently.

  “Chris, I hate to be insensitive about this, but what about tomorrow?” Sam asked, his eyes darting to where the police officers were cordoning off the area.

  “Go home, let Wills take your statements, and I’ll come by after I finish here. It might be a while, but I’ll know more later.”

  Sam nodded, and he and Molly left through the far end of the barn, both of them not looking back toward Jethro’s car. Molly didn’t need to look at it to remember it with startling clarity. They wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Sadness washed over her as Sam held the passenger door of his truck open for her to climb in.

  Jethro Harkaw was not a nice man. But he had a wife, friends, and even an ex-wife who would miss him. Fans and followers who still had reason to admire him would mourn his passing. And suddenly it didn’t matter that he was a jerk or a chauvinist.

  Sam climbed in, gripped the steering wheel. Looking over at him, Molly reached out and put a hand on his forearm, staring at his profile in the dark cab.

  “I can’t believe someone would do this,” Sam said. “Who would do this? I didn’t like the guy on a personal level, but why would someone do this here? In such a public way?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  While she’d unfortunately been up close and personal with not one, but two killers, she couldn’t fathom hurting another person. After her arrival in Britton Bay, she’d been the one to find Vernon’s body and also the one to uncover the secrets that had led to his death. It hadn’t prepared her for finding the killer of a small-time celebrity chef a couple of months ago. The chef had been in town for a wedding that was supposed to be at the bed-and-breakfast.

  Thinking about both of those events now, after seeing Jethro, she could understand Chris’s frustration with, once again, finding her at the scene of a death. It wasn’t like she wanted to be there. Molly definitely didn’t want the nightmares that would ensue after she witnessed the worst of mankind.

  “I’m so sorry you had to see that,” Sam said. He still hadn’t started the vehicle. Turning, he reached for her, putting a hand around her neck and pulling her close.

  “It’s definitely not your fault, and I feel just as horrible that you saw it. I don’t think it’s something either of us will forget anytime soon.”

  “Whoever did this was brave enough to do it while people were still wandering around.” The truck’s cab was dark, only bits of moonlight dancing in through the windows, but she could see him, the intensity of his gaze.

  “Or desperate enough.”

  She put her hand to his jaw and felt it clench.

  “Until Chris finds out who did this, I don’t want you to go anywhere alone.”

  She smiled, despite the situation. While she appreciated his concern and loved that he wanted to protect her, it wasn’t logical to think anyone would hurt her. She had nothing to do with the car world. Whoever killed Jet did. Which meant she was in less danger than, say, Sam. Telling him that, though, wouldn’t penetrate while he was flipping “what ifs” over in his head.

  It was easier to soothe him in the only way she knew how. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, breathing him in, and feeling incredibly grateful neither of them had wandered into the barn alone tonight, she whispered, “We’ll just stay glued to each other’s sides until we feel like it’s safe.”

  And because she believed that whoever hurt Jethro was part of the car world, which put Sam at risk more than her, saying this, and having his agreement, soothed her as well.

  Chapter Seven

  Molly didn’t warm up on the ride home or when Katherine let them into the bed-and-breakfast. With the busy chaos they’d expected for the weekend, they’d all come to the agreement that Tigger should stay up at the main house with Sam’s mom. What that actually meant was that Molly insisted she couldn’t take advantage and Katherine had insisted she’d have it no other way.

  Tigger greeted her and Sam with his usual pouncing and a tornado tail wag. Molly crouched down in the spacious foyer of Katherine’s home and accepted the love her pup gave so easily. She rubbed his ears, laughing when he tried to get into her lap. Sam lowered beside her and added his hands to the greeting. His eyes met hers as they said hello to her dog.

  “You okay?” His voice was whispered.

  She was. Or she would be. “I am. You?”

  He nodded, but his gaze was shadowed with worry. They both stood, and Tigger flopped down across their feet.

  Sam’s laugh went a long way toward pushing back the chill she couldn’t shake.

  “How about you let us all the way in, buddy?” he said.

  His mom went up on tiptoes and brushed his cheek with a quick kiss before folding Molly into a hug.

  “What is happening to our small town?” Katherine asked, squeezing tight.

  Molly pulled back, steadier now. “I’m not sure. I hope I didn’t bring bad luck with me.” It was partially a joke, but not entirely. Three murders in six months?

  “Don’t say that,” Sam and his mother said in unison. They shared caring eyes, and all four were on her.

  “I was teasing.” But it wasn’t the time or place, and she shouldn’t have. They moved into the dining area. The house was decorated with a rustic, country vibe. Homey. Comfortable. Welcoming. Like Katherine herself. She’d set out cookies and tea on the ten-foot-long, wood-planked dining table. There was an electric fireplace on the faux-brick wall, along with handmade wooden signs that said things like Home is where the tea is and sit * rest * read * repeat.

  “Is that one new?” Molly pointed to a narrow sign that held an arrow pointing to the kitchen. Underneath the arrow, it said, bliss…that way.

  Katherine poured them tea while Sam gave the dog a bit more attention.

  “It is. Sarah made it for me. She said if the paint night goes well, she’ll do a workshop on how to make your own wooden signs.”

  The conversation was normal, and normal was necessary. Molly needed the time to get her brain wrapped around everything that had happened. She and Alan had talked about establishing a stronger social media presence, but she couldn’t very well post something about what they’d just witnessed. But she also couldn’t shut her brain down.

  “Come sit down and have some tea, Molly,” Sam said softly. He took the cup from his mom and passed it to her.

  She sat beside him on the long bench instead of on one of the six chairs available. Closer was better. The im
age of Jet flashed into her mind, and she shook it off. She couldn’t think emotionally right now. They needed to give their statements, and she needed to catalog the facts for later. As if he sensed her thoughts, or just knew her well, Sam’s arm came around her shoulder. She rested her head in the crook of his arm for a moment while he filled Katherine in on the barest of details.

  “That’s just horrible. I can’t believe something like this has happened. Again.”

  The word hung in the air, and again Molly thought of how she’d lived twenty-eight years without seeing a dead body. Now, in six months, she’d seen twice as many as she’d ever wanted to. She should have felt scared. Instead, she was angry, furious that, once again, this sort of thing had touched the town she loved. The place she called home.

  “I hope the police pick up Brad Templeton. But I know for certain that Jethro’s ex-wife is in town as well. Do you think most people are staying at the hotel?”

  There was one go-to hotel in Britton Bay. There was also a motel and several bed-and-breakfasts, along with camping and RV sites. Most visitors who didn’t choose the personal type of lodging that Katherine offered went for the hotel.

  Molly saw Sam and his mother exchange a glance. Avoiding the look both of them wanted to give her, she reached down and petted Tigger, who’d curled up in his favorite spot on her feet.

  “I’m sure the police will do everything they need to. I hate saying this, I really do, but if I have to close down the show tomorrow, I need to get ahold of people.”

  Molly looked up again, and she knew Sam was thinking the same as she was when she said, “Brian,” and he nodded, his lips tight.

  Where had he been? With Jethro’s ex. She’d watched Brian and Candy go one way, while Jet and Amber had gone another. Jet must have gone back to his car for some reason. Had Amber been with him? The police will talk to her. They’ll talk to everyone. This isn’t your job.

  A knock at the front door sent Tigger into a frenzy of barking. That wasn’t typical for him.