Deadly News

by Jody Holford

  Sheriff Saron’s deep chuckle soothed the nest of bees buzzing around her stomach.

  “No. Not at the moment. Can’t imagine the first item on your agenda when moving to a new town is murdering a complete stranger.”

  “No. I can promise it won’t be on my agenda even after I’m settled,” she said. Then realized she’d just made a joke about murder and she froze. “God. I’m so sorry. That was a horrible thing to say.”

  “No need to apologize, Molly. There’s no right or wrong after you’ve seen something like you did and I’m impressed at how well you’re holding up.”

  Ha. He doesn’t want to be around ten minutes after he leaves. She wanted to curl up into a ball on her bed, maybe with a cute little puppy snuggled into her side.

  “We will have to get your fingerprints to exclude them from the crime scene. It’d sure be helpful if you popped by the station sometime today or tomorrow.”

  “I can do that.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “Do you have any suspects?” If not, I have a few.

  Should she mention the pen cap? The emails? She was really ringing the crazy new-girl bell with her suspicions and suggestions. Maybe it was better to keep them to herself.

  “Nothing conclusive yet. We don’t get much of this sort of thing around here. We’re going through everything by the book, but it takes time. It’s not like you see on television. There’s no one who owes me any favors that’ll make them push through the evidence faster.”

  Just tell him. He watched her, his eyebrows lifting in slow motion.

  “Something on your mind?”

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Some people’s nothing can be a tiny piece of a puzzle.”

  She pushed her drink around the countertop in small circles. “It’s just…on my way out the door at V—Vernon’s, as I was leaving to wait outside for the police, I noticed a pen cap. It was chewed.”

  One side of his lips tipped up. “Lots of people have a habit or two that involves chewing on something.”

  Her shoulders tightened. “Clay does. He chews on a pen cap constantly and I know I have no right to point fingers because I don’t know anyone and I’m not trying to stir up trouble, but I thought it was strange that he said he hadn’t been in the house and then I saw that. When he got to work this morning, it was the first and only time I’d seen him without a cap in his mouth.”

  The sheriff’s lips tipped downward now and he made some notes on his pad. “Hmm.”

  Hmmm, what?

  “I’ll make sure it’s picked up. Clay and his daddy have a long history of not getting along. Officer Beatty said he went to visit his mama out in Portland, but we may need him to head back here for questioning. I’ll talk to him. Regardless of their poor relationship, it’s still his father, so I imagine this is a hard hit. Especially if he lied about his whereabouts.”

  There. She’d done it. Did it count as some sort of civic duty? Of course it did. The tension slipped down her back, but she knew she wouldn’t fully relax until Sheriff Saron, nice as he was, left.

  “Anything else?”

  “Not that I can think of.” She took a long swallow of her soda, appreciating the way it eased the dryness of her throat.

  Avoiding his assessing gaze, she could admit to herself that it was easier to tell the sheriff about Clay because she didn’t altogether like him. It was unfair, but if she had to choose, she could see Clay losing his temper far quicker than she could picture it of Alan and Elizabeth. She didn’t want to think either of them were capable of an affair—or worse. But what if she was wrong? The town thrived on gossip. Maybe everyone knew about her boss and co-worker. Probably not about the emails, though. At least not yet. And now that Vernon is gone, no one will. It’s not your job to protect them. But she didn’t want to take responsibility for sharing their private information, either. Especially when she didn’t really know anything.

  “Okay, then. You take care and if you think of anything else, I want you to call me.” He took a card from the back of his notepad and set it on her countertop.

  She saw him out and then leaned against the closed door, shutting her eyes and focusing on her breaths. When a knock sounded behind her, she actually jumped. Molly gave herself a second before opening the door.

  Katherine stood in the doorway, a small beige kennel in one hand and the end of a leash in the other. The pup hurdled forward, jumping up on Molly’s legs and making her smile.

  “I’d say he missed you. Everything all right?” Katherine asked.

  Molly moved aside so she could come in. She knelt down and let the pup off its leash. The pup jumped and tried to lick her face. “Calm down, you.”

  She ruffled his fur, which he seemed to enjoy. He rolled over, belly up, his dark eyes begging for more.

  “You’ve got yourself a steadfast friend there,” Katherine commented.

  Molly met the woman’s gaze. “It would seem so. At least until his owner claims him. Thanks again for letting me bring him here.”

  “No worries. Have you eaten?”

  “No. Sam took me for a milkshake this morning,” she said.

  Katherine’s eyes sparkled. “Another steadfast friend. He’s a good boy, my Sam. Just like his daddy was.”

  Molly stood up, walking to the small kitchen area. “Was?”

  There was such a sadness in Katherine’s smile, Molly felt the woman’s pain. “He died about five years ago. Heart attack. My one true love.”

  Tears filled Molly’s eyes. So much sadness in the world. The pup plopped his butt down on Molly’s foot. She looked down and laughed. And so many little reasons to smile. What a balancing act.

  “I’m so sorry,” Molly said, truly meaning it.

  Death certainly made a person grateful for their own blessings. Tonight she would definitely make the time to chat with her parents.

  “Thank you. Sam and I, we do okay, even though we miss him. I started this place with the insurance money and Sam started his shop. Our way of making his memory carry forward.”

  “That’s really lovely. You have a beautiful place here and everyone I’ve met speaks so highly of you.”

  Katherine blushed. “That’s nice to hear. I always say, you get back what you give.”

  Molly thought about that and her thinking shifted to Vernon. It could be true of him as well, which was a terrible thought, but not entirely wrong.

  “Anyway, I should get going. I’ve brought you some lunch and I expect you to eat it. After you’re good and settled, I’ll have you up to the house for dinner, but any time you like, come by for breakfast. I serve it for my guests from seven to nine in the morning every day. It’s simple; muffins, yogurt, granola and fresh fruit, but it’s a good way to start your day.”

  “Thank you, Katherine. Truly, for everything.”

  “My pleasure, dear. Get some rest,” Katherine said, giving Molly a quick, hard hug.

  As she walked to the door, she called back, “And eat,” making Molly laugh.

  She thought for sure she’d break into tears once she was alone. The pressure of warring emotions was giving her whiplash. But she didn’t. Instead, she took the dog through the back door to the small fenced yard that was secluded from the rest of the bed-and-breakfast property. Trees edged the entire property and Molly knew she’d have to get out and explore the grounds. The steady trickle of water meant there was a stream or brook close by and she’d yet to figure out where. The pup bounced around the yard, easing a good portion of the pressure in Molly’s chest. He’d probably love a walk through the trees, especially if they found the water.

  “I think I’m going to call you Tigger for now. All you do is bounce.”

  To prove it, the little guy bounced over to her and jumped up, putting his paws on her knees. Molly picked him up and snuggled him close. Moving around for her dad’s job made hav
ing pets too difficult and as an adult, she’d only lived in apartments. It hadn’t occurred to her, how much she’d enjoy having a furry companion.

  Inside, she finished off her soda and looked at the lunch bag sitting on her counter. She hadn’t even seen Katherine carry it in. Inside was a delicious-looking sandwich, an apple, and a bag of plain chips. Molly was reminded of the lunches her mom used to pack her. Tonight, when she phoned them, she’d remember to thank them for just being great. For loving and supporting her. It made Molly sad to think of Clay’s relationship with his father and the flip side of that was gratitude for the one she had with her own parents.

  While the pup dozed at her feet, Molly curled up on the couch with her notebook. Her thoughts were circling like a tornado and she needed to get some of them down.

  She trusted the sheriff—he seemed like a strong leader and a good man. She wondered if Sam had ever caught the interested glances the man sent his mother’s way. A smile tipped her lips as she wrote the date. The thoughts bouncing around in her head were exhausting her and she knew, if she didn’t write it down, she wouldn’t be able to put any of it aside. She wrote a quick note about the morning.

  Indescribable. Vernon, who seemed to hate me on sight, is dead. I found his body this morning. He was murdered and I’m terrified it has something to do with the interview I demanded he get from Vanessa Phillips. But, seeing as I’m not a cop, I could be wrong and there’s more than one person on the list of suspects.

  She tapped her pen on the page, leaving random dots. Stop it. The police will do their jobs. But worry gnawed in every recess of her mind and despite trusting the sheriff and his men, she couldn’t help herself. Molly wrote Vernon’s name in a circle and drew a line, connecting Clay’s name. Noting the pen cap and that the sheriff would look into it, she wrote Callan’s name. Putting a little star by his name, she reminded herself to speak to Calliope. Ask what the fight between Vernon and Callan was about. She made note of Callan’s display of temper and his words from this morning: Vernon won’t be scamming them anymore.

  Sadly, she drew two more lines, putting Alan and Elizabeth’s names at the end, then drew a connecting line between them with the word affair and a question mark. The thought turned her stomach. She made a note of the email exchange and Elizabeth’s warning. Should she have told Sheriff Saron? What if there was nothing to it and she started a rumor about two good people? Or, what if the sheriff decided she was just a newcomer looking to stir up trouble? Or what if he appreciates you sharing any information that could be relevant?

  None of these things were connected to the interview she’d asked for or the documents she hoped to grab tonight. So why was she obsessing? If one of these people killed Vernon, it had nothing to do with Molly. Except then she was in close proximity to a murderer. They all were. Closing the notebook, mostly because her brain hurt from thinking about it, she stared at her laptop and heaved out a deep sigh.

  Pulling up the Bulletin’s web page, she started to write. It took her a while to get the details down without putting in too much. Sheriff Saron probably wouldn’t look at her so kindly if she mentioned the pen cap or how Vernon had been found lying in a drying puddle of scotch. Keeping the article short, Molly wrote that Vernon had been found dead in his home and the authorities were looking into the details. She attached several links to Vernon’s older articles and copied and pasted his biography from the site. Since most people knew what she hadn’t, she included the fact that Vernon was survived by his son, Clay Reynolds, who was unavailable for comment.

  Because he’d left town. The sheriff hadn’t seemed concerned over this, but it didn’t sit right with Molly. After posting the article and sharing it on social media, she texted Alan and let him know. She didn’t receive a response.

  Eyes burning, she closed her laptop and set it on the coffee table. It’d be a while before Sam came over. Glancing over her shoulder, she decided her bed was too far away. The fleecy-soft beige blanket her mom had given her last Christmas was draped over the back of the couch. Handy, since she felt like burrowing under it now.

  When she did, the dog—Tigger—took it as an invitation to join her. Together, they fell into sleep. Likely, it was only her that suffered from a nightmare.

  Chapter 8

  Vernon was there on the floor in front of her and all she could think was, “I need to get out of here,” but when she tried the door, it wouldn’t budge. Gripping the knob harder, she twisted and turned it, but got nowhere. She could hear the cops banging on the other side and Molly slammed her fists against the heavy wood to no avail. When she tried to scream, to tell them she was in there and needed help, no words came out. Someone was calling her name.

  “Molly! Can you hear me?”

  A dog barked, yanking Molly out of her nightmare. The knocking was real and so was the barking. Tigger was off the couch and at the door, yapping excitedly. Molly shuffled after him and answered.

  Sam filled the doorframe, standing there in the dimming light of the evening. He was wearing jeans and a light gray sweater. Molly blinked. How long had she slept? The dog darted between Sam’s legs and out into the yard.

  He stared after the dog, then looked back at Molly with a tummy-tumbling grin. “Hey. Did I wake you?”

  Feeling abnormally shy and not quite awake, Molly tucked her hair behind her ear and stepped out into the yard.

  “Hi. I didn’t mean to sleep so long. I was just going to lie down. I found this guy outside the Bulletin this morning.”

  Sam stood by her side, watching the pup zip around in circles. “My mom’s half in love with him already.”

  Glancing up, her eyes met his. He had pretty great eyes. “Your mom is fantastic.”

  He shrugged, his smile soft and sweet. “I like her.”

  Molly laughed, then looked over at Tigger as he picked a fight with a flower. He barked, jumping toward it.

  “Come on, Tigger.”

  Sam chuckled. “Tigger?”

  Pointing a finger, she laughed at him. “You watch. All he does is bounce.”

  It was nice, standing with Sam in the soft breeze of the evening, sharing laughter over the silly puppy. Certainly nicer than the start of her day. They went indoors and luckily, Tigger followed. Molly’s stomach growled loudly and her cheeks heated.

  Sam’s sweet smile woke her up all the way. “My mom told me to ask if you’d eaten.”

  She took the lunch bag out of the fridge, not meeting his gaze. “I fell asleep. She doesn’t need to look out for me, even though it’s sweet that she wants to. She packed me a lunch.”

  Molly unloaded the bag. The pup flopped onto Sam’s feet.

  “She’ll do that. She can’t help it and there’s no use trying to stop her. My mom would feed and house the world if she could. Hey there, little guy. You’re tough, aren’t you?”

  Molly looked to where Sam was crouched, rubbing the dog, and couldn’t help but think they made a cute pair. “He picked a fight with an ugly stuffed bear today. That’s how I found him.”

  A deep laugh came from Sam as the pup rolled over, showing no decorum at all. Indulging the pup, Sam continued to rub his belly. Molly bit into her sandwich and sighed before realizing she had absolutely no manners.

  “Can I get you a drink? Half a sandwich?” Though she really didn’t want to share. Turkey and ham with cheese, lettuce, and just the right amount of mustard made it delicious.

  “I’m good. My mom just fed me. You sure you want to do this tonight?” He stood up and took a seat across the counter.

  Finishing her bite, she nodded. “I feel like I have to. The sheriff stopped by today to ask a few follow-up questions. He said they don’t have suspects yet, though I don’t know that he’d tell me if they did. I can’t ignore the timing on Vernon’s death. Even if it seems unrelated, it’s too coincidental. Plus, I can’t stop thinking about the box he got from Vanessa. It was
n’t in the house—well, at least not in the living room.” The memory of his body lying there floated back and a shiver wracked Molly’s spine.

  Molly’s pulse sprinted when Sam leaned closer. “I can understand that, but I hope you aren’t still blaming yourself, because it’s truly not your fault.”

  “Thank you. I feel like I need to do this and I’m glad you’re coming with me. I’ll just finish this off and we can go. Your mom gave me a kennel for the pup. I think I’m going to miss him when the owner claims him. I put up a notice in the Bulletin window.”

  She took another large bite, grateful she hadn’t had to make it herself.

  “I saw you also put an article up on the website. Word is all over town.”

  Molly nodded. That was the point. Better to report facts than people speculating any more than they already would.

  Tipping her head, she fought back a grin. “Do you usually check the website?”

  His gaze locked with hers and the air between them crackled. “Not often. Just wanted to see if the new editor was doing her job.”

  The smile he gave her, slightly lopsided and all-the-way cute, caused a carefree feeling in her chest. One she hadn’t felt in far too long. “Pretty soon I’ll have you all stalking the website and our Twitter feed.”

  Sam gestured to Tigger. “Have you thought of what you’ll do if no one claims him? There’s been quite a few stray dogs around in the last couple of months. I know the police were checking into it a while back.”

  Molly frowned and looked at Tigger. She tossed him a piece of bread and a chunk of meat. She’d need dog food if he stayed. “He doesn’t seem like a stray.”

  “Maybe not. He’s pretty cute. Definitely a keeper.”

  Locking her eyes on Sam’s, all too aware of the dangerous flutter expanding around her heart, she nodded. “I agree.”