by Sophie Sharp
Molly felt a pang of guilt for not telling Lacy what had happened, but her sister would make it a bigger drama than it already was, and that wouldn’t help anyone, especially not Mia. Molly would relay the message, but she wasn’t about to tell Mia she had to call Lacy. Mia wanted to be treated like an adult for the first time in her life, and Molly had every intention of doing so.
“Why are you being so snippy?” Lacy asked. “I swear, if you influence Mia to treat me as rotten as you do, I’ll just die.”
Oh lawd.
“Lacy, I buried a good friend today.”
“Who was it?” Lacy asked. “Don’t tell me it was that strict teacher, Mrs. Jewel. You always kissed up to her.”
“Um … I was six years old. And no, Mrs. Jewel is alive and well.”
“Still,” Lacy said.
Still what? “Anyway, it was Opal May Harrison. Max’s mother. You might remember her from when we lived here as children.” Before our parents uprooted our lives and hit the road so you could become a child star. “She also happened to be the proprietor who leases the center lot to us truckies. My livelihood could be in danger.” Normally, she’d never confide in her sister about finances, but her sister needed to give her a break right now.
But of course, she didn’t.
“I still don’t understand why you left a salon and bought your Glam Van if you never intended to be a mobile business. You’ve been parked there how long now? Ten years?”
“Three.”
“Well, don’t you think it’s time for a change? Why not go truly mobile?”
Bleck. Enough about change. Molly scratched the hives creeping up her neck again. Lacy, even Doug, not to mention the mayor, made it seem so easy whenever they said she should go mobile, but it wasn’t so simple for Molly. Change had never been a good thing when she was growing up. Change had meant a new movie set, new crew, new towns. Young Molly’s friends had always been the adults from Lacy’s entourage. Just when Molly grew close to them, it was time to leave for a new movie, a new crew. Now, Molly was close to her truckies, and none of them wanted to lose the day-to-day family they’d created with one another.
Lacy was still talking. “What is the worst that could happen? Let’s discuss your fears.”
Discuss my fears? “Are you playing a psychologist in your latest role by chance?” Molly asked.
“Yes,” Lacy squealed. “Don’t I sound so officious and smart? Even you picked up on it, and you didn’t even know yet.”
Ugh. She’d just fed the bear.
“I have to go. I’ll tell Mia you called. Bye, bye,” Molly said and ended the call.
But as it turned out, Molly didn’t have to call her hubby. Just as she returned to Glam Van, Doug came bounding up the stairs. One look at her, and he swept her into his strong arms as if he’d been at risk of never seeing her again. As he patted her down and made sure she was whole, he looked around frantically. “Where’s Sweet Pea?” His nickname for Mia.
Hmm. Maybe we are just as guilty as Lacy of treating Mia like a child.
“She’s fine.” For now. Now was not a good time to tell him Mia was a potential suspect due to bad luck and timing. “She’s with Damion. He has a calming effect on her, as you know.”
He stepped back and ran his hands over his bald head. “I was so scared when I heard the news. I’d just left work and was in the grocery store buying ingredients for tonight’s spanakopita when I heard someone talking about Veronica’s death. I heard ‘behind Molly Locks’s Glam Van’ and I dropped the spinach and feta right there in the aisle. And then you didn’t answer your phone. Please don’t ever do that again.”
Oops. She hadn’t thought about him hearing it on the news so quickly. A murder at her van was new to her too. She didn’t have an established protocol.
Doug looked up at Molly. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I was with a client. Nell. There was so much happening. And I was just about to call you, but Lacy called first.”
Doug groaned.
Molly shut the door since reporters were moving closer and closer to the entrance despite the guards, pretending to look at their phones. She hated those phones, how people could actually be recording everything while acting like they were doing something else. Though she wished she’d had one taped to her face when she’d run around the corner and found Mia with Veronica’s body. The shock on Mia’s face would have been enough to convince Detective Moat she was innocent.
Molly rested her hands on Doug’s broad shoulders, which, thanks to years of construction work in the mornings and kneading dough in the afternoons, were as rock solid as they’d been when she met him. “Hon, there’s so little to share at this point.” Okay, so that was a little white lie. There was Mia’s necklace, the sign, and more. “I didn’t want to distract you at work. Weren’t you up on scaffolding today? What if you fell, poked an eye out, lost a finger, or worse?”
“Oh, no you don’t, babe. You’re avoiding telling me something. Cripes, what’s worse than murder? Don’t tell me you did it,” he joked.
“Well, no, I didn’t, but …”
“Molly …”
“Okay, but you better sit down or hold on to your Grape Nuts, because you aren’t going to like this.”
Doug frowned and put his hands forward, wiggling them in a bring it manner. “Hit me.”
Gosh, she loved her husband. Even now, scared and protective for her and Mia, his cherub cheeks made him look less fierce and more loving. She could just kiss him if she didn’t first need to tell him that she and Mia had to go in to the station tomorrow and make a formal statement and be prepared to answer questions based on the autopsy. Not to mention they needed to donate their DNA. Oh, and she needed to get him to break his confidentiality agreement and tell her about the mayor’s secret safe room.
By the time she finished updating Doug, his jaw was slack and his eyes were wide with disbelief. “Are you telling me you’re both suspects?”
She plastered a smile on her face and wrinkled her nose. “No. Not on paper. You know, it’s like our shows, they need to identify our DNA so they can single out the killer’s DNA.” At least she hoped that was the intention. If the detective truly believed Mia could kill anyone, he was a blind idiot. It was a good sign he hadn’t arrested her, right? No one knowingly lets a killer run free.
Doug grabbed his phone and stabbed away at the screen.
“What are you doing?” Molly asked, but he shook his head.
As soon as his call was picked up, he asked, “Moat, what in the hell is going on?”
Apparently, Moat and Doug playing on the same softball team had its benefits, but she wasn’t sure this was going to help their case.
Doug nodded his head as he listened.
She wished he’d done the call on speaker.
Doug sighed. “Okay, I’ll bring them to the station myself to answer any questions and sign their statements, because you and I both know it’s not them.”
Wow. Go Doug. That was her own dreamboat defying Detective Dreamboat. Golly, had she said how much she loved him lately?
She felt the first glimmer of hope. Once the autopsy was done, they’d know exactly what time Veronica died. That information alone might rule Mia and Asil out.
When he ended his call, she said, “Doug, since you’re being so helpful, I need to ask you something. Tell me about the mayor’s safe room.”
His head jerked back. “What? Wait, I’m not saying there is such a room, but supposing there is, how did you find out about it?”
“Off the record, Veronica Corsello was seen leaving there last night. It might just be that the mayor was the last person to see her before someone killed her, but I don’t want to throw him or his room under the bus when we meet with the detective.”
“‘Off the record’? What, are you a cop now?” He began to pace and stopped before her. “Who saw her?”
“I can’t say.”
Doug’s brows collided. “Molly, trust me.
You can’t be the one to decide when or who goes under a bus. We need to leave all of this to Detective Moat. You can’t be deciding what and when to tell him something. That’s ludicrous. You’re a cosmetologist, not a private investigator. You’ve got to tell him who saw Veronica leaving the mayor’s house and when.”
She wasn’t sure why she was peeved because she knew her hubby was only worried about her, but his lack of faith in her judgment upset her. Plus, she’d confided in him, and he still hadn’t trusted her with an answer about the room. “What’s this room about? And why would Veronica be in it?” she asked him. “More importantly, why would the mayor share it with her?”
“I don’t know, and you shouldn’t start guessing. Corsello Development managed the original build-out, and they hired me as the foreman for the job. You may be my wife and best friend, Molly, but you know I stand by my word. I signed a confidentiality agreement when it was built. That’s all I’m going to say. Don’t jump to conclusions. Maybe the foundation cracked, and Veronica was checking it out or something. Let Moat ask the mayor. If it’s important, he will get an answer.”
But her thoughts were already skating ahead with more questions. Foundation? “So the room is in the basement?” Wow. Due to California’s earthquakes, basements were rare. This room was more important than she originally guessed.
“Babe. Stop now. Your only business is to do the statement and then butt out. There’s a killer on the loose and he or she was here. At your Glam Van.” He rested his palm against her cheek. “Right under your nose. I can’t bear for you to be in danger.”
“I know. I know. But I can’t say anything to Moat yet, because there’s more.”
He scowled. “More? I don’t like this at all.”
“Doug, I have a horrible feeling that Veronica was blackmailing everyone to get what she wanted. No, listen.” She gave him the hand when he started to shake his head. “She was blackmailing at least Asil with touched-up photos of vermin on his grill. No one is going to believe Asil that it’s a lie unless he has proof. And it gives him a motive. We both know Asil isn’t a killer. Even looking like a suspect could destroy his business. And think about how the mayor changed sides last week over the lot. What if Corsello was blackmailing him too?”
Doug squinted and blew up his rosy cheeks with air. “You should just tell Moat right now and let him find out. This is what he is trained to do.”
Molly was already shaking her head. “Moat’s too new to them. He’s been here less than a year. You know the Van Clan will clam up around him. If they’re going to tell anyone, it will be me and the other truckies. I just need to ask them tonight and then I’ll tell Moat tomorrow.”
Doug sighed. “I hate this, but fine. Just tonight. Moat’s not expecting more until tomorrow anyway, but tomorrow, you will tell the detective everything you learn.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed through closed lips. Unless it wrongfully throws my truckies under the bus or endangers Mia.
In all the years of their marriage, Molly had never lied to her husband. Today she’d not only lied by omission, but she was not going to promise to tell the detective everything tomorrow. If any of her truck family members looked wrongfully guilty, she would clear their name before handing them over to Moat. The horrible Veronica Corsello was the real criminal.
Doug kissed the crown of her head. “Now, how about we pick up these ingredients so I can make spanakopita tonight for the truck meeting. I bet they’ll love my Greek cooking.”
“It’ll be all Greek to them,” Molly joked.
Doug played the slapstick drums.
Oh yeah. Molly loved her husband. And her niece. She loved her truck family too. And she was going to do whatever it took to protect the people she cared about.
Chapter Six
Even with mouths full of delicious spanakopita, and rum raisin bread pudding, life wasn’t feeling or looking good for the truck owners. Officially, the truckies had all been harassed and threatened with blackmail by Veronica Corsello, giving each of them a motive for murder and making them all potential suspects.
Well, almost all of them.
Since Molly hadn’t received a threat personally, the other truckies were suspicious of her exclusion.
“Why us, and not you?” Asil asked. His eyes lit with alarm. “I bet that’s why she died near your truck. She was dropping one off.”
Molly hadn’t thought of that. If Moat reached that same conclusion, Mia would look guiltier than ever. Like she’d been the one to discover Veronica trying to blackmail them then and there. Her niece was a passionate one, and while she’d never have hurt Veronica, Moat didn’t know that.
But Asil could be right. It would explain why Veronica was at Glam Van when most everyone else was at the funeral. Obviously, someone had intercepted her. A killer, in fact.
“I’m telling you, it’s the aliens doing all this,” Sherman the shoe repair guy said.
“There he goes again with space invaders,” Pam sighed. “Next he’ll be saying my pet grooming clients are space aliens in disguise.”
“Aren’t they?” Sherman asked.
“Some of those pom-pom poodles look like aliens,” Ben Bean, the coffee-truck owner joked.
Pam laughed. “That’s for sure.”
“Don’t be redunculous,” Anthony (pronounced An-ton-ee) from The Hoagie Hero said. “How is this helping?”
“Redunculous isn’t a word,” Carl of Lake’s Cleaners said.
“Maybe Veronica Corsello was an alien, think of that?” Sherman asked.
All the truckies cried, “It’s not the aliens.”
“Let’s be serious about this,” Ben said. “Someone needs to look into Tabitha.”
“Tabitha?” asked Molly. Tabitha ran a funky little coffee house in town, a community hub filled with laughter and chatter. Tabitha wasn’t the murdering type.
But Ben was adamant. “She’s out to get my coffee truck. I’m her biggest competitor.”
“Not a chance,” said Sherman. “Tabitha isn’t like that.”
“Says the man who believes in aliens.” Ben Bean snorted.
“Sherman’s right,” Mia said, putting her foot down. “Tabitha’s my friend and if anyone knows the value of human life, it’s her.”
“Okay, okay, settle down,” said Molly, feeling like Mrs. Jewel, her first grade teacher. “Pass over your photos and let’s think this through.”
Mia gathered the photos and handed them to Molly.
A photo of Pam’s poodle locked in her car with the windows rolled up. Pam would never let that happen. But such a photo would destroy her pet grooming business forever.
Carl Lake of Lake’s Cleaners would never dump cleaning solution down the city drains.
Sherman wearing one of his client’s newly shined Berluti calf leather shoes would never happen either. He only wore Crocs due to his time in the Vietnam War. Living in wet trenches with soaked feet had turned him off from socks forever.
Ben’s roasted coffee beans did not have weevils that he ground up and served to customers.
And animal rights activist Vicki from the Veggie Bites truck must be clean as a whistle because the worst Veronica could come up with was a phony picture of Vicki eating foie gras. But this would be enough to cost Vicki some clients because it contradicted everything she said she was about.
That left only Anthony.
Molly held out her hand. “Anthony?”
He shook his head.
“You didn’t get one?” Molly asked.
“Oh, I got one alright,” he said. “Veronica offered to buy me out for pennies on the dollar, just like the rest of you, and when I said no, she sent me a present.”
“What was it?” asked Asil.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Anthony,” said Molly, “we’re a team, remember?”
“I know, I know. I’m on your team, but this thing she did was disgusting, and I just don’t think it’s right to show it here.”
Molly’s curiosity was piqued. She had a bad feeling Anthony’s blackmail just might be legitimate. He was always quick to rile, but he was acting like a dog backed into a corner. Molly would talk to him tomorrow when he was alone. Maybe he’d confide in her one-on-one and show her his picture. It was enough for now that everyone knew they were in the same boat. But it did mean that she wasn’t going to tell Moat. She needed to talk to Anthony first, and that wouldn’t happen before she and Mia went for their interview in the morning. Doug wasn’t going to like this, but she’d have to sit on this blackmail stuff for now.
And it still left Molly as the only one seemingly unscathed.
“Okay, Mia’s going to put these photos in my safe right now,” Molly said. “I promise you: I will take care of you. We will fix this together. I don’t know why I didn’t get a photo, but I suspect I was about to, just as Asil suggested. Let’s agree that none of us say anything to anyone else until we meet again and decide next steps.”
Anthony nodded his head. “Yes, a unified front.”
The truckies stood, raised their left hands, and did the trucky promise: Your truck is my truck.
They finished just as Doug came into the room with Irish coffees. “Quick, turn on the news,” he said.
Mia rushed for the remote, but Molly got there first. She futzed with the buttons then handed it to her niece. “Here. You’re quicker and faster with this thing.”
Mia was flipping through the channels when Sherman shouted, “There!”
The words Welcome to the SCTV Channel 2 News Special Report flashed on the screen with foreboding music and then cut to a live conference.
Mayor Tully, Chief of Staff Nell Jackson, Detective Moat, and several police officers stood on a raised platform across the street from the truck lot. In the upper left hand corner of the screen was a digitally imposed photo of Veronica Corsello. And, much to Molly’s dismay, the scene of the crime and Glam Van served as the backdrop. This wasn’t going to be good for business.