As soon as she slid into the passenger seat of Sue’s SUV, Molly dug her phone out of her bag and scanned it for text messages from her daughter. Chey was mad at her, but she always checked in, especially if she was sleeping overnight at someone’s house. There were no messages from Chey or anyone else. Maybe she was madder than Molly realized.
When the SUV turned out of the parking lot, Molly regarded Sue. She showed no residual effects from the reception, which had wrapped up in the wee hours of the morning according to her. “What did you have in mind for breakfast? I’m starving.”
“I was thinking The Pelican Cove Diner. They have great hangover food.”
“Sounds perfect. Cheyenne must be pretty mad at me still. She didn’t check in with me this morning.” Molly typed out a text to her daughter. What time will you be home? Need a ride?
“She still bugging you about letting her take the bus to Miami for that convention?”
“It’s not that. She invited her daddy to her birthday party. Apparently, she found him on Facebook and they’ve been talking to each other online for months.”
“No!” Sue sounded scandalized.
“Yep.” Molly hit send on the text. “She—”
Something beeped and buzzed in her purse.
Frowning, she opened the oversized bag and dug through all the junk she carried around, looking for the source of the noise. She had a feeling she already knew what had made that sound. Her hand settled on her daughter’s cell phone. “Oh, Cheyenne.”
“What she’d do?”
“She hates carrying a purse so whenever we go somewhere she sticks her things in my bag. Half the stuff in here is hers.” Molly sifted through the bag some more. “Looks like she took her wallet though.”
“You’ve got April Linus’ number, don’t you? Text her.”
“I can't. Chey will think I’m checking up on her because I don’t trust her. I suppose she’ll call me if she needs me.”
“You’re a good mama, you know that?”
“Tell that to Chey.”
Over breakfast, Molly filled Sue in on everything that had been happening with her ex-husband and daughter. Sue was of the opinion Molly needed to put her foot down and forbid Cheyenne to have contact with Trevor. Sue’s wasn’t taking Trevor’s threats seriously, but Molly knew what he was capable of. The Schaffers were a powerful family out of Tulsa who were accustomed to having their own way, and now Trevor was a successful lawyer in his own right with lots of lawyer friends. Not to mention money. If he wanted a fight, Molly was certain she would lose.
And so would Cheyenne. Chey didn’t need to be drawn into the middle of a custody battle. She was already angry at Molly. What if forbidding Chey to see her father drove her straight into the arms of Team Trevor? Nope. Molly had to tread carefully and wait it out until Trevor grew bored or Chey changed her mind about wanting a relationship with him.
Molly accomplished nothing at the diner but killing a delicious plate of pancakes and bacon and a half pot of coffee. It was just past 10 a.m. when Sue parked in a local lot close to Dixie’s and they walked the two blocks to the bar. It was closed for lunch but would be opened for dinner later that night. Parting with Sue on the corner, Molly thanked her for the sympathetic ear and then turned down the side street where she’d left her car. Finding street parking in Old Town wasn’t easy, but she'd gotten lucky and found a spot.
The four-door Kia Rio hatchback had seen better days. The twelve-year-old car’s blue paint was fading and the body was dinged in spots, but it still got her where she needed to go. She’d left it parked in the shade beneath the gnarly, low-slung arm of an old gumbo-limbo tree.
Sticking her key in the lock, she leaned on one leg and winced as the muscle in her inner thigh screamed at her. She didn’t want to think about how she’d pulled the muscle because it would only lead to thoughts about Anders and she definitely didn’t want to think about him.
Opening the driver’s side door, she tossed her heavy purse onto the passenger seat and gingerly bent to slide behind the wheel. It was hot as the Devil’s sauna inside the vehicle, so she reached for the manual crank to roll down her window. Then she reached across the car to lower the passenger side window, but it was already down about three inches. She frowned. She never left her windows open, especially in summer when you never knew when a storm would blow in.
In fact, she distinctly recalled asking Cheyenne to roll up her window on the way to the wedding when the wind started to mess Molly’s hair. Her daughter hadn’t argued, probably because the air-conditioning had kicked in by then. The window had remained up for the duration. Molly was certain of it.
Maybe someone had forced the window down and broken into her car.
“Dagnabit,” she muttered and opened the glove box. There were some old CDs inside along with her registration and insurance card. A car phone charger, pens, a few gas receipts, and even some loose change still littered the center console. Nothing appeared to be missing. She climbed onto her knees to peer into the back. A sweater and an ancient MP3 player lay across the backseat. A pile of something on the floor behind the passenger seat caught her eye. It was yellow, red, and black. A jacket maybe? It wasn’t hers and she didn’t think it was Cheyenne’s either. Stretching to reach for the abandoned piece of clothing, her hand was six inches away from it when the pile moved.
The snake reared back in surprise, lifting its head even with Molly’s dangling fingers. She gasped and yanked her hand away without considering that moving too quickly might provoke a strike. She climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut. Chills ran up and down her spine as she backed away from the vehicle and made her way around to the sidewalk. She continued backing up as if she was expecting the snake to slither through the open window and come after her. When she bumped into the fence, she stopped moving. Heart pounding in her chest, she opened her mouth to shout but choked on the word help.
Chapter Seventeen
Molly grabbed Dixie’s metal door handle and tugged on it, fully expecting it to open. It didn’t. With hands still trembling from her encounter with the snake, she tugged on it again just to be sure.
“Today of all days,” she muttered and then knocked frantically on the glass.
Shielding her eyes, she peered inside. The lights were still on, meaning Sue hadn’t left the building. Something was wrong. Besides the fact that a very large, possibly deadly snake had taken over her car. She shivered again because the icy chill that had settled into her bones wouldn’t quit.
In third grade, Cheyenne did a book report on venomous snakes. One of the reptiles she’d highlighted was the North American coral snake. Distinguished by its red, black, and yellow stripes, it was one of the deadliest snakes in the world. The powerful neurotoxins in its venom caused respiratory failure mere hours after a bite if not treated with antivenom. Molly’s right hand tingled. It was just her imagination, but she checked her hand again, flipping it over just to be sure she hadn’t been bitten.
She needed someone with a clear head to examine her hand. Sue knew about this sort of thing. Where was Sue? She needed to call animal control. Her stupid phone was in her purse, trapped inside her car with the snake.
She pounded harder on the glass.
Oscar came through the kitchen door. He was reading something from a notepad. When Molly pounded again, he looked up, surprised.
“Oscar, please! I need help!”
“What’s going on? Why is the door locked?” His voice was muffled as he came toward the door.
When he turned the lock and let her in, she threw herself into his arms and hugged him gratefully. “Oh, my goodness, thank you! This is crazy. There’s a snake in my car. I think it’s venomous.”
“Were you bit?”
“I don’t think so but I don’t know.”
“Let me see.”
She held out her trembling hand to let Oscar examine it.
“I don’t see any puncture wounds. Where’s your car parked?”
“I got this.” He winked at Molly, then grabbed the broom leaning against the wall and shoved open the glass door. “Call Animal Control. There’s a Yellow Pages just under the counter below the phone.”
“Where’s Sue?”
“Upstairs.”
Molly made the call before heading for the stairs. She wanted to check on Oscar, but she needed to find Sue first to let her know what was going on.
The wedding setup was gone, probably picked up by the supply company first thing that morning. Now the roof with its pretty view was being used for a photo shoot. Anders stood where the altar had been, posing for a professional photographer. Off to the left, Sue stood between Anders’ publicist Selena Fry and another woman, a reporter possibly, if the notepad and small recording device she was holding were anything to go by. Her silver-blonde hair was styled in a neat, tidy bob that matched her conservative dress. Another man with purple hair and several tattoos stood off to the right behind a folding table covered with makeup and hair-care products.
When Molly’s gaze met Anders’, his expression stayed passively bland. Her heart sank. What had she been expecting? Him to drop to his knees and profess his undying love? She didn’t even want that. She hated when guys got all clingy and possessive after sex.
Anders wore a black tank top tucked into a pair of tight, faded blue jeans and an old pair of sneakers. The bucking Bronco on his silver buckle glimmered in the sunlight. His head was bare. He’d never been one for cowboy hats, but he had an impressive collection of western belt buckles.
He was probably posing for a magazine—one she would’ve run right out and bought as soon as it hit the newsstand if the last twenty-four hours had never happened. She would’ve ogled the pictures, read the article, and then ogled the pictures some more, but now the thought of doing that just felt weird. She’d gone and robbed herself of a small but vital pleasure that helped her get through her mundane work days. Because of a stupid decision to get drunk with Anders, she’d never be able to look at him the same way again.
As she stood there watching him pose for the photographer, heat crept up her neck. She took a step back, wishing she had the ability to disappear into the background like a squid.
He continued to gaze in her direction without even a hint of acknowledgement on his face, which made her feel even worse. Had he already forgotten about what happened last night? When he missed a cue from the photographer and everyone stopped what they were doing to look Molly’s way, she realized that maybe he hadn’t forgotten everything. He was just better at hiding his thoughts. She was pretty sure her feelings were written all over her face: mortification, regret, and the distress from having found a venomous snake in her car.
“Molly!” Sue exclaimed, hurrying over to her. “You’re shaking. What happened?”
“I’m sorry for interrupting.”
“I thought you went home.”
“This is a private shoot,” Selena Fry said, scowling from the sidelines of the photoshoot. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”
Molly ignored her and focused on Sue. “There was a snake in my car and Oscar—”
“A snake?” Selena scoffed. “Really? The groupies in Nashville come up with more interesting excuses to talk to Anders.” She nudged the reporter who didn’t share in the joke but instead seemed very curious about the drama unfolding in front of her.
Molly winced at the word “groupie.” Selena might be an overprotective guard dog, but she wasn’t blind or dumb. Molly felt so guilty she might as well have had a scarlet letter G sewn on the front of her T-shirt.
But she wasn’t lying about the damn snake.
To Sue, she said, “Oscar’s checking it out right now and Animal Control are on their way.”
“Oh my!”
“Is everything all right?” the blonde reporter asked them.
Selena waved her off. “Everything is fine. Please continue with the shoot. They can take this downstairs.”
“Hey, aren’t you that woman from the tabloids?” The reporter’s face lit with recognition as she left Selena behind and moved toward Molly. “The one Anders was caught making out with only one week after Casey Conway’s death?”
Molly looked at Anders for help, but his eyes were on Selena, silently conveying a message to her that made the woman frown and shake her head in objection. Molly felt a twinge of jealousy over the silent communication they seemed to possess. What was Selena doing here anyway? Anders had said she left town yesterday. Why would he say that if it wasn’t true?
Selena let out an audible sigh and then went after the reporter, stepping into her path before she could reach Molly. “That was a big misunderstanding,” she said, using her body to block the reporter. “This woman is an employee. She was talking to Anders and accidentally tripped. She’s very clumsy and has trouble controlling herself around him.”
“Excuse me?” Molly took a defensive step toward her, or tried to, but Sue’s arm tightened around her shoulders, holding her back.
Sue whispered in Molly’s ear. “Don't make things worse. Selena’s trying to cover for you.”
The reporter’s eyes narrowed on Molly. “And a paparazzo just happened to capture it on camera?”
“That poor excuse for a human being has been stalking Anders since Vegas. He was just waiting for something like that to happen so he could capture it on film and blow it out of proportion.”
The reporter raised a manicured eyebrow at Selena, still unconvinced. Then she turned to Anders. “Anything you’d like to say about this, Mr. Ostergaard?”
“No comment.” His tone was as disinterested in the topic as his vacant expression.
“Seems to me like there’s more to the story and you’re holding back. I thought we had an agreement here?”
Selena put her arm around the reporter and escorted her back to where they were standing before Molly interrupted the photoshoot. “Our agreement was to give you an exclusive on the events leading up to Casey’s death. That doesn’t include anything that’s happened here in Key West.”
The reporter smirked. “What happens in Key West, stays in Key West?”
Selena laughed as if the reporter had made a hilarious joke.
Anders’ bored expression didn’t change.
“Let’s continue.” Selena nodded to the photographer. “I know you all have a plane to catch.”
The makeup guy rushed forward with a brush to powder Anders’ face.
Sue spoke softly near Molly’s ear. “What were you saying about Oscar?”
“Oh, shit. Come on!”
Molly followed her friend to the stairs and then made the mistake of looking back. Anders was removing his shirt, exposing his bronze, chiseled torso in all its glory. It was disconcerting to realize she’d had sex with him less than twelve hours ago and hadn’t gotten to weave her fingers in the light brown hair that dusted his pecs or stroke the ridges of his ripped abdomen.
Well, if she had, she couldn't remember it.
Anders leaned back against the waist-high brick railing, using his arms to brace his body on the edge. He stared pensively off to the side as the makeup guy sprayed an oily substance on his chest and shoulders making his skin glimmer with the sheen of fake sweat.
The guy must have said something funny to Anders because his handsome face suddenly lit with a wide smile.
Like a wrecking ball, regret slammed into Molly’s chest, hard and heavy. She’d blown any chance of having a friendship with Anders. Or anything else for that matter. Not that she ever stood a chance with him anyway, but last night she’d made certain he’d never look at her like anything else but a woman he’d had drunk sex with once.
“Are you coming?” Sue called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Yeah. Sorry.” This time, Molly didn’t look back, because she just couldn’
t bear it.
Animal control was in the process of removing the snake from her Kia Rio when Molly and Sue joined Oscar on the sidewalk. A young white guy with dreadlocks and a pierced eyebrow was reaching into the car with some kind of prong tool. He was dressed for the job in a brown Crocodile Hunter type uniform but no other protective gear.
“Please don't get bit!” Molly cringed with worry, crossing her hands beneath her chin.
“It’s cool. It’s a scarlet kingsnake.” Dreadlocked Steve Irwin used the tip of the prong to grab the reptile by the neck and pulled the creature out of the car. He held it up, using his bare hand to support its four-foot-long body. “Easy, little dude,” he said when the snake started to thrash in an attempt to get away.
Molly squeaked and took a giant step back. Sue stepped behind Oscar, who appeared to be more fascinated than concerned. “It won't hurt you. It’s not venomous.”
“What makes you so sure?” Molly eyeballed the snake with skepticism.
“Didn’t you ever hear the rhyme, ‘Red touching yellow, kill a fellow. Red touching black, friend of Jack.’” Oscar shrugged and grinned through his goatee. “I was an Eagle Scout when I was a kid.”
“You were?” Molly eyed him with disbelief. “How did I not know that?”
“It’s true,” Sue confirmed. “He doesn’t talk about it much.”
That wasn’t the only thing Oscar Martin didn’t talk about. He was also pretty mum about his BFF Anders Ostergaard. Ignoring a little stab of annoyance, she said to the Animal Control guy, “So how did a scarlet kingsnake get in my car?”
Dreadlocked Steve Irwin was putting the snake in the plastic trashcan he’d taken off the truck. “Probably swung down from the tree and came in through the open window. We’ll take him out of town and drop him off someplace where he won’t get into any more trouble.”
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