Deadly Vows

by Jody Holford

Sam laughed and looked at Molly. “Looks like she knows you pretty well.”

  “I’m okay with being an open book. Especially if there are scones in the picture.” Turning back to see if Shannon had looked up from her phone, Molly took the chance to say hi.

  Dark circles rimmed the woman’s eyes. “Hey, Molly.”

  “Hi, Shannon. How are you?” Molly leaned against the counter but didn’t take a seat.

  “I’m okay. I have to give a statement today, but after that, I’m free to go.”

  “I bet you’re looking forward to heading home,” Molly said.

  “I am. This is one job I’ll never forget,” Shannon said sadly. She set her coffee down.

  Molly glanced at Sam who was chatting with Bella as she boxed up scones. “I bet. What will you do now?”

  Even though she shrugged, she answered. “I need to grab a couple of things we left at the bed-and-breakfast, including the wedding cake. Kyle didn’t box up all of our supplies the other day, so I’ll do that.”

  Katherine was busy putting together the final touches on what Molly had asked for her help with. Hopefully, Patricia was with her. But she hadn’t thought of a cake. She bit her lip, gnawed at it really, while more thoughts swirled.

  Sam joined her and said hello to Shannon. He set Molly’s coffee down on the counter, the box of scones beside it, and held onto his own. Molly debated for only a second. Her plan was all unfolding today, so she took a deep breath and then, in a low voice, told both of them what she was up to.

  “Blake and Chantel are meeting me at the beach in a few hours. Your mom and Patricia are setting it up. The minister was coming today anyway. They’ll be married at sunset on the beach. But I’m thinking, maybe that cake doesn’t have to go to waste,” Molly said.

  Sam looked at her with so much affection it stopped her breath. “You organized that for them?”

  “That’s really nice. I’m glad they’re still going to get married. And of course, the cake should be eaten,” Shannon said. “No sense in it getting thrown out.”

  “There’s never a good reason to throw out cake,” Molly said.

  Shoulders shaking with laughter, Sam pulled her closer. “You’re a good person, honey.”

  Molly leaned into him, noting the sad look in Shannon’s eyes. “Do you want to come to the wedding? There are a few guests who are still coming just for the evening. Patricia and Katherine contacted everyone, mostly to cancel, but there were a few people Patricia thought Chantel would want there.”

  Shannon nodded. “That would be lovely. I need to swing by the police station and head to the hotel to grab my stuff. After that, I’ll go to the bed-and-breakfast, grab our things and the cake, and then meet you there?”

  Molly shifted things around mentally in her head. “Okay, but I have to make a statement, too. An Ethan Dorsey came to see me yesterday about the contest and Skyler, and shared some information about Kyle. I have to share that on record,” Molly explained. Chris had told her not to say anything, but Shannon would know who Dorsey was, so it didn’t seem wrong.

  Shannon’s eyes widened. “Ethan was here?”

  Molly nodded. “Yes. You remember him from the contest?”

  Mouth drawn tight, the sous chef nodded. “He was the final judge.”

  That was news, though Molly didn’t see how it was relevant. “Oh.”

  Unsure where the tension had sprung from, Molly looked at Sam who just drew his shoulders up, letting them drop just as quick

  “Why don’t you and I go to the station and your hotel together? Sam, we can meet you at the bed-and-breakfast and you can help transport the cake?”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Sam asked.

  Molly picked up her coffee to take a sip, but Shannon grabbed at her hand. “That’s mine!”

  Startled, Molly knocked her coffee onto the floor and sent the bag of scones flying.

  Shannon jumped off the stool. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so used to making sure Skyler doesn’t accidentally pick up what I’m eating or drinking. We weren’t supposed to have any unapproved ingredients in her kitchen, but I sneak stuff into my own food and drinks and just never told her. I’m sorry. It was instinct.”

  The whole time she rambled, she attempted to mop of the coffee while Molly grabbed the scones. Sam got a mop from Bella who came over with a cloth.

  “It’s just a spill, hon, no big deal,” Bella said.

  They righted the floor and the counter. Bella replaced the scones. But Shannon still stood, her face ashen. That there would be that much tension in every cell of her body, shocked Molly. How horrible it must have been to work in those conditions, fearing you could cause harm or death to the person you work with. Unless you just follow the orders and don’t bring in anything harmful. Shannon rubbed up and down her arms, not really looking at any of them. She didn’t touch anything she didn’t make.

  “You going with her, Molly? Might be best, she seems pretty shaken,” Bella asked as Shannon headed for the door.

  Molly startled. Shannon had said something about Skyler not touching anything that she hadn’t prepared. Shannon was almost to the door and she felt like she was tripping over her thoughts.

  “I’ll meet you at the bed-and-breakfast?” Molly looked up at Sam. He looked concerned but nodded.

  “Keep your phone on, okay? You sure you don’t want me to come?”

  “No, text your mom, see if she needs anything and then head over for the cake. Being ready early is better than late.”

  Molly kissed his cheek and hurried after Shannon, who’d obviously rented a vehicle that she was now climbing into. Going to the passenger side, she called the chef’s name.

  “Can I still come with you?”

  Shannon blinked. “Yeah, sure.”

  They got in the car and Molly couldn’t shake the muddled thoughts trying to sort themselves in her head. Shannon dug through her purse, found some keys and pulled them out only to drop them on the floor. Why was she so jumpy? What had gotten into her?

  Don’t be so callous, Molly. This woman lost two friends in the most horrible way.

  “Sorry,” Shannon muttered, leaning down to grab the keys. Reaching forward, her sleeve came off of her shoulder, just a little, exposing just a hint of her tattoo. Just a few points of a dark star.

  And as Molly’s thoughts collided into place, slamming into each other with a startling clarity, Shannon started the car and reversed out of the spot.

  Throat dry, Molly told herself to breathe and think through things rationally. The killer was in jail. He’d poisoned her. I don’t like the stars. Both times Corky had said that, Shannon had been in the vicinity. Stop it. She was poisoned with the drink from Bella’s. Even as she made herself think the words, she knew she was lying to herself. Skyler Friessen was a woman who got what she wanted no matter the cost. If she lived by a set of rules, Molly was certain, she wouldn’t flex them for anyone. Which meant that the only person who might have drunk Bella’s coffee was Kyle. And since he wasn’t dead, that wasn’t the source of the poison. Sitting ramrod straight, fingers clutching her purse, Molly wracked her brain trying to think of that morning. The details. What had Corky seen?

  The car sped up like the pace of Molly’s heart. Without warning, Shannon swerved to the right with such a sharp yank on the wheel that Molly’s head hit the window. Hard. Wincing and giving a howl of pain, she didn’t have a chance of stopping the woman from yanking the purse out of her lap and tossing it into the back seat, well out of Molly’s reach.

  Head spinning, she pressed her fingers to her temple and felt warm liquid touch her skin. She was bleeding.

  Aiming for ignorance, she asked, “What’s going on?”

  Shannon gave a harsh, abrasive laugh. “You can’t hide a thing. You put it all together and it was like a neon sign went on over your head. I wouldn�
��t suggest you play poker.”

  “Shannon, please.” Molly didn’t know what she was asking for at that particular moment.

  “Couldn’t just let it go. Any of you. Goddamn Ethan Dorsey was the one who wrecked everything in the first place,” Shannon said, her foot seeming to stomp onto the accelerator.

  “Shannon, please, stop the car,” Molly said. She braced herself against the door, looking around to see if there was anything with which she could attack the woman. Nothing. Could she open the door and jump out? Only if you want to die. Which you might anyway. She glanced out the window, turning back to the driver when Shannon laughed loudly.

  “Do it. Jump. Make it easier, please.”

  Molly thought of just grabbing the steering wheel and fighting the woman for control, but there were people on the streets, walking and driving and she felt dizzy enough she couldn’t be sure she would avoid hitting them.

  “Why?” she asked instead. Shannon couldn’t drive forever.

  “It was my recipe,” Shannon said simply.

  What recipe? What was she talking about? Why do you keep trying to rationalize the actions of people who are not all there?

  “She didn’t drink the coffee,” Molly said, still not understanding how to piece things together. “Kyle said she never touched what she didn’t create, which means that you doctored something she trusted. Something she wouldn’t suspect.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to kill her. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “What I want is for you to slow down, preferably pull over.” They were leaving Main Street behind, heading up into the residential neighborhood at a speed that had people whipping their necks in the direction of the vehicle.

  “She was supposed to get sick. That’s it. Just so I could take over the wedding preparations. She owed me. She stole my recipe, won the contest. She took my prize money to put a down payment on a spot for her restaurant. Dorsey was crazy about her. He didn’t even ask about me, did he? I tried to tell him she stole my recipe. I told her it would come back to bite her. But she wasn’t supposed to die.”

  The sound of sirens behind them both startled and relieved Molly, but only for a second. Shannon increased her speed, her grip on the steering wheel alarmingly tight.

  “You can say that, you can say it was an accident,” Molly said, working hard to keep her voice even. Her pulse beat such a fast, hard rhythm, she wondered how she could talk over it.

  Shannon looked at her, taking a turn without even watching where she was driving. Turning her gaze back to the road and pulling on the wheel so she didn’t fly into a parked car, Shannon laughed. It wasn’t a funny sound.

  “Right. They’ll believe that.” Her hands shook, making her driving more erratic.

  “There’s nowhere to go,” Molly said, not sure if she was telling Shannon or herself.

  The road continued to climb and her heart shuddered as they passed the house where Molly had found Vernon’s body. A for sale sign sat crookedly in the front of the overgrown lawn. Shannon started mumbling about something Molly couldn’t understand but her thoughts were still on the grass. It had continued to grow because that’s how life worked. It went on even when some didn’t. Day after day, no matter how minute the progress, people, life—it all carried forward. That thought was both humbling and terrifying. Because Molly wanted to carry forward. She wanted to embrace the fear she felt about caring so deeply for Sam. She wanted to see her parents. And Tori. She wanted more. She wanted more days and minutes and chances to mess up and set it right.

  Up ahead to the left—where the houses thinned out, the yards turned to gravel, and some new developments were starting—was a parking lot. Tourists and locals parked there to head up into the hiking trails, another pull of the Oregon beachside town.

  The sirens wailed. When Molly turned, she saw two cars chasing after them and behind that, trailing in the distance was Sam’s truck. Molly leaned to the side and with all of her strength, grabbed the steering wheel, hoping the surprise would give her an advantage. She pushed to the left and the car jolted in that direction. Shannon screamed and released the wheel with one hand to push at Molly’s face. Her nails scraped across Molly’s cheek, but Molly didn’t let go. She forced the wheel to the left, seeing that she was steering them both toward a low embankment in the uneven gravel parking area. The problem—one of the most pressing ones anyway—was that Shannon kept her foot on the gas. They were inertia—and Molly needed something to stop them. Shannon gripped the wheel again, trying to turn it from the direction Molly was steering them. The car slammed over the embankment, a drop of maybe one foot that put them on an uneven, overgrown area hedged by towering Douglas firs. Molly bit her tongue and Shannon hurled curse words like rocks.

  And then they stopped with a jolt that rocked Molly’s arm in its socket. She smashed her elbow against the dashboard and Shannon’s head shot forward, smacking into the steering wheel. The horn went off, the sirens continued to wail, and Molly felt the crushing need to close her eyes for just one minute. Shannon fumbled with her seat belt and Molly wanted to stop her, but everything hurt and even with the banging whir in her head, she knew, she wasn’t alone. The doors flung open in unison, Molly heard Chris’s voice barking orders. Shannon was hauled from the vehicle.

  “Ma’am? Can you hear me?” the officer whose name Molly could just not remember asked, touching her shoulder.

  “Molly!” Sam’s voice echoed in her head and the fear, the pain intricately laced into her name sorted the jumble of her thoughts.

  “Can you move?” the officer asked.

  “Molly.” He was closer now. She turned her head and saw him hovering over the officer’s shoulder.

  “You need to move back, Sam,” another officer behind the kneeling one said.

  “I’m okay,” Molly said. She moved to undo her seat belt and winced in pain. She couldn’t bend her arm. Using the other one, she clicked the release and turned her body, putting both feet outside of the vehicle. “I can stand. I’m okay.”

  “Let me help you,” the officer said, taking her arm and causing her to cry out.

  “I’ll help her,” Sam barked, pushing his way between them.

  He leaned in, noted the way Molly was favoring her elbow and turned her so the other side of her body was leaning into him and then he lifted her, like she weighed nothing and, with the utmost care, crushed her to his chest.

  “You’re okay. You’re okay. Tell me you’re okay.” His words were muffled by her hair. He’d buried his face in it and Molly let herself burrow into the crook of his neck.

  “I’m okay,” she whispered. She hurt, but she was okay.

  “Sam, the ambulance is on its way,” Chris said.

  Molly lifted her head and saw that behind Chris, Shannon was being put into a cruiser, her hands cuffed in front of her.

  “She’s bleeding, Sam,” Chris said.

  Sam’s body turned to concrete as he held her and she wished she could move her injured arm to run her hand over his chest and soothe him.

  “I’m okay. My head hit the window. I’m okay.”

  Sam looked into her eyes and Molly felt like he could see all the way through her. Holding her gaze, he finally nodded. “You still need to go to the hospital.”

  As if on cue, the ambulance pulled into the gravel lot that was overflowing with activity. Molly rested her head against Sam’s chest as he walked her toward the back of the ambulance. Two police cruisers sat, front doors open, four police officers milled about, one standing by the back of the car that held Shannon, his hand on the roof.

  “What do we got?” A female paramedic pulled open the ambulance doors and Sam set Molly on the edge of the opening.

  “Something is wrong with her arm,” Sam said, panic still tainting his words.

  “I hit it on the dashboard,” Molly said, wincing when the woman touched her. />
  “Let’s clean up the cut on your head and then we’ll bring you in to the hospital for x-rays,” she said.

  Molly’s heart lodged in her chest and Sam came closer. “What is it?”

  “I don’t want to go in the ambulance.”

  “Can I drive her?” Sam asked. No questions asked; he just took her back.

  The ambulance driver looked back and forth between them, a slight smile on her lips.

  “Let me just do an initial check, write a few things down, and yes, then that should be fine. We’ll follow you there.”

  Stepping around Molly, the woman went into the ambulance, presumably to grab something to clean up Molly’s scrapes and cuts.

  Sam crowded her leaning in. “You scared me. I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared.” His fingers gripped hers.

  “I’m okay. I promise.”

  The female paramedic came back with gauze, a salve, and Band-Aids. A male paramedic walked up to them.

  “Other woman’s injuries are superficial. They need to process her at the station, but I told them we’d check on her again later.”

  “Want to get her loaded and I’ll drive?” he asked.

  The female looked up from bandaging Molly’s head. “We’ll follow her.”

  The man frowned. “That’s not typical protocol.”

  Sam’s smile was tight and tension radiated from his body. “This isn’t typical. Go figure, she doesn’t trust someone else to drive her.”

  His gaze captured hers, swallowed her whole and alleviated the ache in every inch of her body because he knew, she trusted him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sam didn’t speak for the entire ride to the hospital. He spoke curtly to the duty nurse, giving Molly’s information right before the paramedics came in behind them, expediting the process. He held her hand when they checked her for concussion and waited patiently while they took her for x-rays. Molly felt his relief when the doctor told them her arm wasn’t broken, just badly bruised. He insisted on putting it in a sling so she wouldn’t be tempted to move it. Sam took the prescription from the doctor and filled it for her while she waited.