Deadly Ride

by Jody Holford

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Something to think about. But while there aren’t a horde of people here, I need to catch up on stuff.”

  “Right. Um…Officer Wills? He said he had some information?”

  Priscilla turned to her computer, but side-eyed Molly. “Don’t.”

  Molly leaned in. “Come on. Please? Just give me one tiny tidbit of information. I won’t print it or anything. Just point me in the right direction. Pretty please?”

  Whether it was because she’d let Priscilla lean on her the night before or because she was dealing with a hangover, her friend surprised her by inclining toward Molly.

  “They found DNA on Jethro. It was the ex-wife’s.”

  “What? Like on his lips? Because they kissed behind the stage that night.”

  Priscilla glanced toward Chris’s closed door, then down at Molly. “Hmm. That might account for the hair they found on his clothes. But if that was during the dance, it doesn’t explain officers finding her clothes at the scene.”

  “Clothes?” Molly hadn’t seen clothing, but she was too focused on the body. She hadn’t seen the crowbar either.

  “Her jacket.”

  Molly remembered seeing Candice, more than once. Her floral shirt had identified her, but she didn’t remember a jacket. She’d been without an escort for an undetermined amount of time. Molly needed to figure out what happened between the time she said goodbye to Jet and Brian and the moment they found Jethro’s body. More importantly, she needed to know why Brian and Candice had gone their separate ways, even momentarily.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As Molly drove home, thinking about the different people involved in Jethro’s life, she listed the reasons that made Candice a viable, solid suspect—over and above Ed McLaren, whose only real motive was anger on behalf of his ex-girlfriend. Candice had to harbor her own heavy load of anger, knowing that Jet had ended a quarter-century marriage for a woman young enough to be his daughter.

  “That’s one.” She stopped at the traffic light.

  Candice stood to inherit everything.

  “Definitely a reason,” she muttered, pressing on the gas when the light changed.

  It could have been a crime of passion. Anger over not being his wife? Over him choosing, as she’d joked, a younger model. If the kiss at the dance had been a one-off—if they hadn’t hooked up in the time since their divorce—it may have misled Candice into thinking there was a chance for reconciliation. She tells Brian she forgot something? Her jacket? Goes to talk to Jet, and he says the kiss meant nothing. She gets angry, spies the crowbar, and whacks him with it, maybe not intending to kill him, but she wasn’t in charge of the outcome.

  Pulling into her driveway, she was pleasantly surprised to see Sam’s truck parked in one of the spots his mom had paved for the bed-and-breakfast. The second car there, one she didn’t recognize, reminded her that Ed might very well be staying at the house.

  Grabbing her laptop case and her purse, she rounded the hood and took the small gravel path to her home. When she checked the door, it was unlocked, so she let herself in, her pulse doing its “I’m going to see Sam” dance. Tigger found her first and came sliding across the vinyl-plank entryway.

  She put her laptop and purse on the hook by the door and crouched down. “Hello! Oh, it’s like we’ve been apart forever, isn’t it? Yes. I missed you, too.” She laughed when he tried to bury his face in her hair.

  Sam leaned on the arched entryway wall that separated the small area from the kitchen and the rest of the place.

  “I missed her, too, bud, but have some dignity,” Sam said, laughing. At the sound of his voice, Tigger raced across floor to Sam’s feet.

  Molly rose, going to him. He uncrossed his arms and folded her into them with one fluid movement as his mouth came to hers. As if that’s what he’d been waiting for all day. She fell into the kiss and into him. His hands roamed up her back, pressing her closer, and then they went to her hair, his fingers tunneling through the tresses as he changed the angle of the kiss, deepening it. Her hands grew restless, so she moved them up and around his neck. One of his hands cupped the back of her head, while the other stroked down her back. When he finally pulled back, his nose still touching hers, she sighed, her breath uneven.

  “Wow.” She didn’t have a lot of words left rattling around in her brain. And there was a good chance he’d just kissed her spineless because if it weren’t for his arms holding her up, she thought she might melt into the floor.

  “I’ll say.” He buried his face in her neck, extending the moment, sweetening it, by staying like that for a few minutes.

  There was nothing else. Just them. And her dog lying across their feet. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered. Inhaling deeply, she realized something smelled very good.

  “Hmm. Are you cooking?”

  He grinned down at her and took her hand. “Good news and bad news,” he said, making her laugh. Their ideas on what constituted actual bad news frequently differed.

  As he tugged her into the kitchen, she saw the freshly made dinner rolls cooling on her baking rack, the one her mother had given her last Christmas that she never used. She wasn’t much of a baker. Or a cook. But she loved to eat.

  “Mmm.” She reached for one, but he tapped her hand.

  “They’re too hot.”

  She looked up at him with a mock glare. “Good news?”

  “I baked for you.”

  She couldn’t hide her smitten smile. “Yes, you did. Because you’re the best boyfriend in the world.”

  Sam smoothed a hand down her hair. “Wow. Maybe I’ll take your birthday present back if that’s all it takes to make you happy.”

  That was the second time today someone had mentioned her birthday. “Have you and Chris been gossiping about my age?”

  He laughed, grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the fridge. “Gossiping? No. Discussing? Like the manly men we are? Possibly.”

  She laughed and took the bottle from him, taking a welcome drink. “Of course. That’s what I meant. But honestly, I forgot it was even coming. I don’t need you to make a big deal of it.”

  He took a drink of his water, eyeing her over it. When he set it down, he stepped into her space, which she was happy to share with him, and took her hand.

  “What if I want to make a big deal of it?” His thumb stroked over her palm. Don’t get distracted by the feel of his fingers.

  “You don’t have to,” she said again. Though it was sweet that he might want to.

  “But if I don’t, I’ll lose my best boyfriend status,” he said, tugging a strand of her hair playfully.

  She put a hand on his chest and stepped into him, looking him in the eyes so he got that she was serious. “That couldn’t happen. You could skip my birthday entirely, and it still wouldn’t happen. You are, without a doubt, the best man I’ve ever met. And I—” Why do you feel weepy? Stop it. Breathe.

  “And?” His voice went husky.

  She breathed in through her nose and out again slowly. “And you make me happier than I’ve ever been. The kind of happy I’m scared to lose. The kind I could get used to.” For the rest of my life.

  Sam lowered his head, pressed a kiss to her cheek, then trailed his mouth along her jaw, tiny kisses making a path to her ear. “Do that. Get used to it.”

  Before he could kiss her again, she asked, “The bad news?”

  His eyes darkened. “My mom is getting tired of her guest. She’s a little high-maintenance. I told her we’d come up for dinner.”

  Molly grinned. “Not the worst news I’ve heard.” Though at the moment, she was hungry for something other than his mother’s cooking.

  “I guess not. But there’s a silver lining,” he said, walking her backward toward her bedroom.

  Molly grinned and fastened her arms around his neck. “Oh
, yeah?”

  His lips found her jaw again, then her neck. “Mmm-hmm. She isn’t expecting us for an hour.”

  Molly laughed, tilting her head to make it easier for him to kiss her in the way that made her legs feel like Jell-O.

  As he came down over her on her bed, she smiled up at him. “That is excellent news, indeed.”

  * * * *

  They packed up the dinner rolls and Tigger and headed up to the main house. Instead of heading through the back door, they walked across the yard, going around to the front porch. It was such a pretty house. The woman inside made it the welcoming place it was known to be, but aesthetically, the two stories, wraparound porch, and wide windows made quite an impression.

  Sam opened the door, and Molly went through. They’d put a leash on Tigger in case Katherine’s guests had issues with animals. Molly had thought of suggesting they leave him in the cottage, but things were so busy lately. She hated the thought of him being alone again, even for a few hours.

  Sam closed the door behind them, and Molly heard voices to the left of the foyer. There was a sitting room and a small television area there. In front of her, a gorgeous wood staircase led to the bedrooms. To the right was a small hallway that opened to a spacious dining room with bay windows. Beyond the kitchen, Katherine had her own little area—almost a suite like Molly’s—but she used the bed-and-breakfast’s kitchen.

  “Oh, good. You’re both here,” Katherine said, coming down the hallway toward them. Tigger strained against his leash. “Why are you trapped, buddy?”

  “Mom. He’s fine. We thought it would be best until we made sure your guests are okay with him.”

  Katherine petted Tigger but came to Molly with her arms open. When she hugged her, she whispered in her ear, “Thanks for joining me. I just need a little regular conversation.”

  Molly hugged her back as Tigger worked his way around and between them, leash tangling. “No problem. Uh—I think we’re caught.”

  Sam laughed and helped them untangle as Ed McLaren joined them in the foyer.

  “Look at that. It’s a party. Hello again, Molly. Sam.”

  The two men exchanged less than friendly glances. Molly was determined not to let Ed get under her skin. And since she was right, and he was staying here, she’d use the time to find out more. She’d left the police station feeling like Candice was suspect number one—as far as the evidence went, things didn’t look good for Jet’s ex—but something about Ed and Amber’s relationship was nagging her subconscious. Was it really just one friend helping another?

  “You know each other?” Katherine asked. She looked back and forth between them. Sam stepped closer, passing his mom the rolls and putting an arm around Molly’s shoulder.

  Amber came into the foyer, a wineglass in hand, wearing a very fancy dress—it was teal, low-cut, and, from the look of it, satin. Molly’s eyes widened, but she worked to keep her voice normal.

  “Hi, Amber,” she said.

  The woman scrunched her brows in confusion. A second woman joined her, and it was clear from her nose, the set of her jaw, and the matching eyes that this was Amber’s sister.

  “Who’s this?” Amber’s sister asked, her eyes zeroing in on Sam and taking a leisurely look up and down, then up again. She stepped around Amber. She wasn’t dressed as fancy, but her top was cut so low it almost showed her navel. “I’m Alicia, Amber’s sister.”

  Sam nodded, held out his hand. “Sam Alderich. This is my girlfriend, Molly.”

  Molly looked at him and smiled. Looking back at Amber, she reminded her of who they were. “We met you the other night. Then I met you the day you checked in. I work for the Bulletin. That’s our local paper.”

  “This is silly, all of us standing in my entryway. Please, come sit down. Dinner is ready,” Katherine said.

  Letting all of the guests follow Katherine, Sam tugged Molly back gently when she fell in line. Leaning in and down, he whispered, “See? Bad news.”

  She laughed, patted his stomach, and leaned into his side. “Okay. I’ll give you this one. It’s probably not going to be the most fun we’ve ever had.”

  They joined the others, and Sam held her chair out for her, sitting down beside her. Alicia sat on the other side of him, Katherine at the head of the table, and Amber and Ed sat side by side. Tigger sat beside Molly’s chair for a minute and then decided to wander off to the kitchen. Katherine kept a dog bed there for him.

  “This looks great, Mom.”

  “Thanks, honey. It’s nice that you and Molly could join us. Please, everyone, eat.”

  No one said much while they passed around roasted chicken, salad, roasted potatoes, and buns. Once plates were loaded and everyone started to dig in, Molly wondered how to phrase her questions.

  “Do you know if the police have found my husband’s killer yet?” Amber asked Molly, pushing her chicken around on her plate.

  Molly almost choked at the woman’s abrupt question. She took a sip of water. “I spoke to the detective in charge this afternoon. They’re definitely narrowing the field.”

  Sam nudged her elbow with his own. “Detective?”

  She gave him a small smile. “Didn’t you cover that in your discussion?”

  He laughed and scooped up a bite of chicken.

  “I don’t see why they’re looking anywhere other than at Candice,” Amber said.

  “Oh, sweetie, don’t get all upset again. It’s terrible for your complexion,” Alicia said.

  Ed’s hand covered one of Amber’s. “It’s just a matter of time.”

  Jumping on the opportunity, Molly hoped her smile made up for her own abrupt line of questioning. “So, you two have been friends for a long time. Since you were kids. That’s really great that you’ve stayed friends so long. Most people lose touch, but Facebook does make it easier to reach out. You said you were heading up here to cover the car show but got delayed, Ed?”

  He released Amber’s hand. She didn’t seem bothered by Molly’s words, but Ed’s jaw definitely tightened. He averted his gaze when he answered. “With Amber living in Arizona most of the time, I take advantage of times she’s close by. So yes, I would have come up. I’m so glad I did.” Looking at her, he smiled. Molly’s gut clenched. He was in love with her.

  “I’m so glad, too. What would I do without you?” Amber asked.

  “You’ll never have to find out.”

  Molly watched the exchange, feeling like they’d forgotten anyone else was in the room. Amber’s tears and sorrow over Jet seemed genuine. As genuine as Ed’s affection for the widow. Was it possible she’d loved both men? Perhaps Ed had murdered Jet to get the competition out of the way.

  Katherine set her napkin down. “Forgot the salt. Be right back.”

  Molly rose before she could and smiled. She needed a minute to sort out her thoughts. “I’ll grab it. Sit.”

  Walking down the hallway and into the kitchen, she made a list of things she could ask Chris to confirm. He probably hadn’t even looked into Ed. Molly wasn’t surprised when she entered the kitchen and found it’d already been mostly straightened up. Katherine took care of everything with ease, no matter how many guests she had. She walked to the stove, opened the cupboard to the right, and took out the salt. It was nearly empty, so she grabbed the box of it that was on the shelf right behind it.

  She was just tipping the box when a sound startled her, and she spilled it on the counter.

  “Shoot,” she said, turning to look over her shoulder.

  Ed was looking at her with a strange expression.

  Unease fluttered in her chest. “Do you need something? Salt?” She gave a weak laugh.

  “You said you’d give me details,” he said, coming closer.

  She picked up the box of salt again, surprised her hands weren’t altogether steady. Something about this guy didn’t sit well with any o
f her instincts.

  “Actually, I said I’d let you know if I learned anything. I didn’t.”

  “Not true, Molly.” He walked close enough that he was in her personal space. Encroaching on it. She could smell his overly spicy cologne. It made her stomach turn. “They have to have something. They’re stupid if they think they can pin this on Amber.”

  The salt was taking forever to fill up, but she was moving so slowly, it couldn’t be helped. “I’m sure that they’d like to pin it on the murderer.”

  Ed leaned his face uncomfortably close. “Which isn’t Amber. You have any sway with the department, you’d better make that clear.”

  She set the salt down, wanting to push him out of her breathing space. “Trust me, I don’t have any sway. And if Amber and you are innocent, then you have nothing to worry about.”

  “Excuse me?” Rage contorted his face, making Molly step back. “Are you insinuating I had something to do with his death?”

  Not while he was looking at her like that—at least not out loud. He emitted a strange, growl-like sound and lifted his hand.

  “What the hell is going on?” Sam stepped around Ed and leaned into him.

  Ed put his hands up, shuffled back. “Nothing. Just two reporters disagreeing on a story. No big deal.”

  Sam glanced at Molly, and she saw the way his jaw flexed. He silently assessed whether or not she was okay, then turned back to Ed. “I find out differently, you’ll need to find a new place to stay.”

  Ed said nothing, but he got the hint because he turned and left. Sam picked up the salt, screwed the cap back on, set the box back in the cupboard, then swept the grains she’d spilled into his hand. He did all of this while saying nothing. When he’d walked to the sink and dumped the salt there, he came back to stand in front of Molly.

  “You’re not usually forgetful,” he said. He didn’t move to touch her.

  “Pardon?”

  “I asked you to keep yourself safe. That didn’t look safe to me. I don’t like that guy.”

  She pointed at the counter. “I came to get salt. Not exactly a dangerous activity.”