by Sophie Sharp
Molly couldn’t condone murder, but she could see how Nell had been pushed into it. Honestly, in that moment, if Veronica was still alive, she’d kill her herself. “So Veronica told Nell she’d tell everyone unless she supported the development plan?”
“Yes, and me too. I didn’t care about my reputation. But after everything I had put Nell and Damion through? I cared about theirs. But we had found a solution. We were getting close and we all agree, we were in this together. We just wanted to wait until after the funeral to announce we were a family and not going through with the lot.”
At that, Molly wanted to cheer, at least.
“Nell had even approached the mayor about changing his position on the lot. But that hadn’t gone too well. He accused Nell of being distracted, which she had been because of me and Damion.”
“The mayor knew Nell was withholding something,” Molly said. She hesitated but then divulged, “He thought she might be drinking.”
Max laughed, almost angry. “Nell? No. She’s not a drinker.” Max shook his head. “But I can see where the mayor might grasp at explanations.”
“I don’t understand though, what happened with Nell and Veronica? How did Nell come to confront her?”
“Like I said, everything just caught up to Nell. She stepped out after Mayor Tully started the eulogy to take a quick walk, get some fresh air, and walk off her overwhelm. But she saw Veronica at the lot, heading straight toward your trailer. She went to find out what the vicious bi—I mean, the despicable woman was up to. Veronica taunted her. Actually taunted her about not being able to sit in the Harrison family pew. Nell said she decided then and there that she was going to ‘come out.’ We were going to this week anyway, before the council meeting. She told Veronica. Nell said the monster totally went nuts that Nell would ruin her plans. She pushed Nell and then came at her, trying to grab Nell’s throat.”
“And she tore off Nell’s necklace.”
“And Molly, I’ve gotten the best attorney in the country to help her. When she left Veronica, Nell swears she was alive. Nell had shoved her to get her away from her, but Veronica had only bumped her head and passed out. There’d been nothing to do with chocks. No blood. Her pulse was steady. Nell ran back to the funeral. She said at one point, she stood on the intersection wondering if she should call an ambulance in case Veronica had hit her head harder than she thought.”
And that was when Brody had seen her, dazed and confused. But wouldn’t a killer say something like this? Wouldn’t Nell, if she killed Veronica and got caught, say exactly this? That she’d been attacked and had only pushed her back but hadn’t killed her?
“And darn it, we were so close to all being together.” He slapped his thigh, but Molly didn’t feel like he was a threat.
“We wanted to turn the lot into a park, you know that? Just like Mother would have wanted.”
Molly gasped. “But—”
“I know, I appeared to be caving to Veronica’s offer, but it was just to buy time until we could work around the blackmail and announce Nell’s connection to Damion and me. Turning it into a park is key.”
The project. Nell had said she was working with Damion on a project. Oh no. What had Molly done? Damion had mentioned something similar to Mia, but now it was confirmed. “Did the mayor know about any of this?”
He shrugged his shoulders. Maybe he felt relieved to talk to someone because he was no longer crying. But he still looked dejected and lonely. “No, he couldn’t have known. Only we knew.”
“Max, I’m so sorry for my part in this.” Molly started to cry.
“I know you are. Still. You better go.”
Molly ached all over with regret as she stood to her feet. What a tragic mess. She picked up her purse and empty dish and walked to her car. She didn’t even have the heart to go back to her empty Glam Van.
She wanted to go home and be with Mia. But when she got home, Mia’s curtains were drawn. They’d agreed a while back that if Mia had her curtains drawn, she didn’t want to be disturbed. She texted her instead.
Mia, I’m home. Max told me everything, supports what Damion told you too. Come over whenever you want.
Mia replied: I need to be alone. I’ll never forgive myself.
Molly’s gut twisted and she started to cry as she wandered into her Doug-less and Mia-less house. What had happened to her happy life?
When Doug did come home, he brought pizza with him. He didn’t say much, and she couldn’t bear to hear her own conversation with Max repeated from her own lips. She’d wait to tell him what she’d learned tomorrow.
In the end, she didn’t have to. They were watching Big Bang Theory, after Doug said he never wanted to watch a mystery series again, when Breaking News flashed on the screen.
Molly didn’t know which was worse, watching Max Harrison announce to the world that Damion was his heir and that Nell was his mother, or watching Doug’s face.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Molly had no reason to go to Glam Van the next day. Between the leak that she had turned Nell in and Max’s breaking news, Glam Van was going for broke. Everyone had cancelled again. Clients she’d been serving for years cancelled and didn’t want to reschedule. Routine-shmootine. Hers was absolutely blown. Her only hope of saving her career at this point was waiting for walk-ins. If she was scared for her business before, worrying about the trucks going truly mobile, she was petrified now. Parked or mobile, it wouldn’t matter if she didn’t have customers.
At least the truckies were safe. She decided to cheer herself up by going and visiting them, but when she rounded Asil’s, all the truckies were sitting together at a picnic table, seemingly having a meeting without her.
“Hi guys.” What was going on now? “Did you see my Facebook post with the good news?”
“That’s why we’re talking,” Carl said.
No one looked happy.
Tears welled in her eyes despite trying to stop them. “Is it a talk I can join?”
“Of course,” the voices chorused.
Pam slid over and Molly squeezed in between her and Ben.
They all looked at each other as if to see who was willing to do the talking. Or the talking to, that’s how Molly felt anyway.
Asil took the reins. “Molly, we’ve been talking. All this stuff happening, it’s a sign to change.”
Change. No, not that word. Please not that word again.
Vegan Vicki picked up the baton. “We think it’s time we all go mobile. Truly mobile.”
“Why?” Molly croaked.
Ben smiled gently. “It’s time. The lot won’t be here forever. You saw the news last night, I’m sure. Max Harrison wants to turn it—”
“But not right away,” Molly interrupted. “It has to be approved. And even then, they want to make it truck friendly.”
“And that’s great,” Carl said, “but why not leverage the best of both worlds: parking here sometimes when it’s a park and spreading ourselves out around the city? Spread the joy, so to speak. We are trucks after all. We’re supposed to be mobile.”
“Plus,” Sherman added, “the aliens will have a harder time finding us.”
“There are no aliens,” everyone except Molly cried.
Molly looked across the table at Anthony. The only one who hadn’t spoken. “You too, Anthony?”
He turned his lips in and nodded. “My life is changing no matter what, what’s one more scary thing?”
“It’s time to leave Opal May’s generous nest and go mobile,” Pam said.
They weren’t saying it, but Molly also understood that they needed to distance their business from hers.
Everyone slowly stood up, patted each other on the back, and headed for their trucks.
Of all things, this was the last thing Molly had wanted. And in the end, she was responsible for making it happen. The mayor had been right at Opal May’s funeral: Like it or not, change is inevitable.
Mia and Aunt Molly sat in silence on Aunt Molly’s co
uch, the curtains drawn to shut out the sunlight, a roll of toilet paper between them (no more aloe-infused Kleenex for them), and a tub of ice cream in each of their laps—chocolate chip cookie dough in vanilla for Aunt Molly, dairy-free salted caramel banana walnut for Mia. They’d both agreed a pity party was what they needed most. On the TV, Patrick Swayze shimmered as his poor, dead self tried in vain to get his girlfriend to believe in ghosts. In her cupcake pajamas, Aunt Molly sobbed. Mia noticed for the first time how much Damion resembled Patrick Swayze. Well, sort of. Okay, he was skinnier and paler and not quite as handsome, and he danced like he had two left feet, but she missed him, and seeing the two lovers torn apart by a senseless crime made Mia feel worse than ever. Because that’s what had happened to her—torn from Damion by a senseless crime.
No matter what Damion claimed, no matter what Max had told Aunt Molly, all the evidence still pointed to Nell. She was the only suspect and she would spend the rest of her days in prison and all because of Mia and Aunt Molly.
Mia spooned ice cream into her mouth, barely tasting the flavors. She would feel horrible if she ate the whole thing, but it was no more than she deserved.
Above them, something thudded.
“What was that?” Aunt Molly said, her eyes wide with fear.
“Uncle Doug?” Mia asked.
Aunt Molly shook her head. They both knew that no matter how mad Uncle Doug was with them, he wouldn’t have come in without telling them, even if it was just to remind them again what idiots they’d been.
Aunt Molly crept to the hallway, grabbing Uncle Doug’s baseball bat as she went. Mia grabbed her phone, in case she needed to make an emergency call, and followed her aunt upstairs. Aunt Molly held a finger to her lips and indicated to Mia to turn on the light. Mia reached around the door, feeling for the switch. She nodded to Aunt Molly—one, two, three—and flipped on the light. She and Aunt Molly charged into the room, roaring like fierce warriors.
The room was empty. There was no sign that anyone had been there.
“There’s no one here,” Mia said.
Aunt Molly slumped onto the bed, half crying, half laughing. “It’s probably Opal May’s ghost, come to haunt us for tearing apart her family.”
Mia didn’t laugh. “That’s not funny.” Her aunt might not take that sort of thing seriously, but Mia wasn’t so sure.
Just then, Mia’s phone pinged with a text alert, causing her and Aunt Molly to jump.
It was Lacy.
“My mom. Again,” Mia said.
“She’s been calling me all day,” said Aunt Molly. “I’m sure she just wants to berate me for being a terrible aunt.”
“You’re not,” said Mia.
“Oh, I am,” Aunt Molly said. “I encouraged you to come out here and then I got you mixed up in this mess. I even managed to get your boyfriend to break up with you. And now that Glam Van is done, I can’t even offer you the job I promised.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” said Mia. “If I hadn’t been chasing that cat, someone else would have found Veronica Corsello’s body and you wouldn’t have had to prove my innocence. I’ve ruined your business, everything you’ve worked for. I’ve even put your marriage on the rocks. If I hadn’t been so hell bent on getting away from my mom, none of this would have happened.”
Mia’s phone pinged again, but she ignored it.
“If anyone’s to blame, it’s Veronica Corsello,” Aunt Molly said. “She tried to break apart my trucky family and Nell’s new family. And she won.”
“And Nell killed her.”
Aunt Molly was quiet. “The thing is,” she said at last, “I still can’t believe it was Nell. There’s something we’ve all missed. Moat too.”
“You’re not suggesting we try to find the real killer, are you?”
“Goodness, no,” Aunt Molly said. “We’ve done enough damage. I just feel so bad about Nell.”
“And Damion,” Mia said. She flopped onto the bed next to Aunt Molly. “I know you weren’t his number one fan, but I sort of liked him.”
Aunt Molly rolled over to face her. “I’m sorry. You want to talk about it?”
Mia shrugged. “I learned a lot from him, I suppose. You have to be able to trust someone to make a relationship work.”
Aunt Molly made a funny noise. She was probably thinking about Uncle Doug and how she’d betrayed his trust. What a pair they were.
Mia swiped away her mother’s text. She’d deal with all that later. She clicked on her photos and looked at the selfie she had taken of herself and Damion together. It was the last time they’d really been happy.
“Let me look,” Aunt Molly said, leaning in.
Mia showed her the photo. “We took it the morning of Opal May’s funeral, that morning. I had to show it to Mean Goat to prove I wasn’t at Glam Van when Veronica was killed. I about died of embarrassment.”
“Cute photo,” Aunt Molly said. “Where did you take it?”
“Behind Tabitha’s. Damion was working and I stopped by on my way in.”
Aunt Molly frowned.
“What?” said Mia. “Should I not have done that?”
“Let me see that,” Aunt Molly said, taking the phone. She squinted at the screen. “How do you zoom this thing in?”
Mia showed her how to zoom in and move the image around. She watched as Aunt Molly maneuvered the image, her eyes growing narrower and narrower. Suddenly they shot wide open in surprise.
“What?” Mia asked. Aunt Molly handed her the phone. Mia stared at the blurry image. In the background of the selfie, just over Mia’s shoulder, was a dark silhouette. Mia zoomed in and out, each time becoming more and more sure of what she was looking at. “Is that who I think it is?”
Aunt Molly nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“But it couldn’t be. He said he was …”
“In San Francisco. I know. But unless my eyes are deceiving me, Mayor Tully has been telling lies.”
“But why would he lie about that?” Mia’s mind whirred as she pulled together all the things they thought they knew and saw them fresh in a new light.
Mayor Tully had a rock solid alibi right from the beginning and no one had questioned that he’d been at his AA meeting. And yet there he was, plain as day, exactly where he swore he wasn’t.
Mia checked the time stamp. 10:52 a.m. Aunt Molly had been with the mayor at Opal May’s funeral at 9:15 and he’d told her he was hurrying to his meeting. But almost two hours later, he was still in San Cosmas? And somewhere in between, Veronica Costello had been murdered.
“What are we going to do?” Mia asked.
Aunt Molly shook her head. “We’ll take this to Moat tomorrow.”
“Right.”
“We need to just hand this over and let him deal with it.”
“I know.”
“We’ve caused enough trouble as it is.”
“I know.”
“And your Uncle Doug …”
Mia nodded.
Aunt Molly said nothing. She stared at the wall, her fingers tapping against the screen of Mia’s phone. Mia could tell she was thinking.
“Before we go to Moat,” Aunt Molly said at last, “we need to be really sure. I mean, he could have been late to his meeting, or he could have left early.”
“Right. We don’t want look like idiots.”
“And we don’t want to get another person, the mayor, arrested for nothing,” Aunt Molly said. “But maybe we can fix this mess we’re in. If we can find the real killer, Nell will be free.”
“And maybe people will forgive us.”
“Tomorrow’s Friday,” Aunt Molly said. “Exactly a week since Opal May’s funeral and Veronica Costello’s murder.”
“And the mayor’s weekly sobriety meeting.”
“Exactly,” Aunt Molly said. She looked at Mia sideways. She didn’t need to say a word. Mia knew exactly what they were going to do.
“So where is the meeting?”
“In San Francisco.”
“I know
. But where?”
Aunt Molly wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. And we can’t exactly ask him, can we?”
Mia slumped down into the bed. As far as she was concerned, this was a sign that they should just show Moat the photo and let him decide, or better yet, say nothing at all and let Moat do his job. But she could tell Aunt Molly wasn’t about to let this go.
“The card,” Aunt Molly said at last. “When Nell came to get her hair done, she left a card with the meeting address on it. I kept it in Glam Van until I saw Nell again, but then things, well, you know.”
“But we can’t just walk in. How will we explain that to the mayor?”
Aunt Molly’s eyes lit up. “He won’t be there tomorrow. When I went to see him the other morning, he was working on a speech for a conference. He’ll be in Sacramento all day tomorrow. The sobriety meeting is at ten. We can leave early, make a couple of quick enquires and be back here before the mayor has finished his ice breaker jokes.”
“Right,” said Mia. “Then we’d better get some sleep.”
But even as she said it, she doubted either she or Aunt Molly would get a wink of sleep tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Molly thanked her lucky stars when they found a tiny space, just big enough to squeeze in the smart car, right across the street from the address on the card barely five minutes before Mayor Tully’s AA group was set to begin their weekly Friday morning meeting.
“Are we sure we should be doing this?” Molly asked, as they got out of the car and looked at each over the lavender roof.
“Absolutely,” said Mia and turned toward the building entrance, where a variety of people were starting to trudge through.