by Jody Holford
“We take turns cooking, but I can admit Alan is better at it than me. But I’m the baker in the family,” Vicky said.
“How about you, Elizabeth? Do you like to cook?” Molly stabbed her last piece of chicken, not sure if she could handle even one more bite.
“I can, but cooking for one has a certain element of loneliness to it. Don’t you think? More often than not, I end up nuking one of those packaged dinners. I’d stop if they didn’t taste so good.”
Setting her fork down, Molly put a hand on her stomach. “With all the great food in this town, it’ll almost be disappointing to cook for myself.”
“What do you like to do when you aren’t working, Molly?” Vicky asked.
Try to come up with a reason for Vernon’s death. “I like to be in the water, but it’s a little cool yet. I don’t mind hiking, but mostly, I’ve been entertaining Tigger. That’s the pup I found. I didn’t mean to keep him, but no one’s claimed him yet.”
Alan tossed his napkin on his plate and leaned back in his chair. “Could be he’s a stray. We had some trouble a while back with stray cats and dogs. Turned out there was a puppy mill not far from here. A few escaped and they ended up getting closed down, thank goodness. But there’s some pretty big pieces of property out this way. People might not even know they’ve got a few strays around and before you know it, there’s a litter of pups wandering around.”
“At first, I hoped someone would claim him right away. But now, I’m attached. I don’t know what I’ll do if someone says he’s theirs.”
“Even in a town this size, you can’t know everyone, but I still think someone would have passed word along and if he belonged to someone, you’d know by now,” Elizabeth chimed in.
She hoped so. Especially since she wasn’t the only one getting attached. Katherine had insisted on puppy-sitting this evening, rather than Tigger being put in his kennel. She had new guests who’d brought their preschool-aged child. Tigger and the little boy had become fast friends and Katherine had insisted the pup stay out to play while Molly went for dinner.
“Thank you again for dinner. It was delicious. Truly,” Molly said.
Alan stood and picked up his and Vicky’s plates. “Our pleasure. This is a much nicer way to welcome you to the Bulletin than what’s happened so far.”
Molly stood, intending to help clear the table.
“No you don’t. We’ll take care of this, you sit. Would you like some coffee or tea?” Vicky asked, picking up Molly and Elizabeth’s plates.
“I couldn’t. I’m stuffed. Thank you, though.”
“I was telling Vicky about your idea of Hannah writing more actively for the paper,” Elizabeth commented.
“It’s a great idea. That girl certainly has more passion and drive than I had at her age. She’s very serious about her future,” Vicky said.
Molly smiled. Her future and…Dusty. She truly hoped the teen found happiness—and balance—in both areas.
Unable to just sit there, Molly picked up the salt and pepper shakers and brought them to the counter. “Speaking of writers, Sam’s cousin, Jill, is back from college and would be interested in working for the paper. I haven’t spoken to her yet, but I wondered if you’d be okay with me bringing her in for an interview?”
Alan pressed his lips together like he was trying to remember. “Don’t know if I know her, but any recommendation of Sam’s is solid in my book. Maybe have her come in with some samples next week?”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
Drumming her fingers on the counter, Molly realized she hadn’t learned anything tonight, but had still enjoyed the evening. If anything, she was more certain than ever that Elizabeth was no killer and whatever was happening between her and Alan, it just couldn’t be an affair.
“I like to take a walk after dinner. Helps clear my head. Would you like to join me?” Vicky asked.
Molly glanced at the others. Alan was filling the sink with water and Elizabeth was clearing the table. “Okay. Sure.”
“There’s a bit of a chill, so I’ll grab you a sweater.”
While she did that, Molly waited for Alan or Elizabeth to say they’d be joining in. Neither of them did. Nerves tickled the inside of Molly’s stomach.
Vicky came back with two zip-up hoodies. Molly pulled it on and they left through the back door in the kitchen that led to a porch with a few steps going down to the yard.
The wind had picked up, but it felt great washing over her, the slight dampness in it from carrying up the ocean spray. They headed toward the edge of the bluffs where a clear path was worn.
“I love it here. Always have. When Alan and I bought this house, I don’t even know that I saw much of the actual building. All I saw was this and I thought, I need to look at this every day for the rest of my life,” Vicky said.
Molly smiled as she walked alongside her. In the distance, she could see a few other houses, but there was a significant sense of isolation.
“It’s an incredible spot. Did you raise your children here? You have a son and daughter, right?”
Vicky tucked her hands in the pockets of the sweater. “Yes. Jessica is in her first year of college at University of Oregon and Trevor is in his third year. It’s been a lonely transition.”
Molly pressed her lips together. She was an editor, not a reporter, but her skin tingled, knowing her boss’s wife was on the verge of telling her something.
The sky had darkened with night, but there was still enough light shining from the moon to see the path. Vicky stopped and picked up a few rocks from the gravel path. She tossed them into the water. Molly stood at her side, listening to the waves.
“When Jessica left…I started thinking I had no purpose. I’d spent the last eighteen years raising my babies and loving every minute of it. Every day was something new and then one day, she was off to college and I woke up and thought, Now what?”
Molly knew what it was like to feel left behind. She’d hated when her father had to go away, but she’d had her mother and the naive security that her dad would always return.
“I can’t imagine that was easy,” she said.
“Harder than I expected it to be. I’d let a lot of who I was go, over time. I mean, it happens. There’s only room for so much and I wrapped myself up in being a mom and a wife. The paper was struggling, meaning Alan was putting in more hours. Trevor was already away at school. When Jessica decided she didn’t want to live at home while she studied, I thought, Well, what now? What about me?”
Molly had never spent much time thinking about how her mom felt when she had moved to L.A. Or to Britton Bay.
“It came on so slowly, so subtly, that I didn’t realize what was happening at first.”
Molly stared at Vicky’s profile, confused.
“I started sleeping in. Why not? Nothing to get up for. By the time I realized that I was spending more time in bed than out of it, I was too deep to pull myself out. Alan came home one day and asked if I was feeling okay. It was after seven in the evening and I hadn’t gotten out of bed all day.”
Molly pressed her lips together, seeing where this was going. “You were depressed.”
A sad smile tilted her lips. She glanced at Molly. “What on earth did I have to be depressed about? That’s what I worried people would say. I have this wonderful husband and home. Two children in college. Which we can afford to pay for. I’m healthy. I mean, I’d just watched my best friend go through a bitter, life-altering divorce. I had no right to be depressed.”
Sadness tugged at her heart. “Depression doesn’t care much about any of that.”
Vicky shook her head. “No. It really doesn’t. It just got worse.”
Her heart squeezed tight, bracing for impact.
“Elizabeth found me one afternoon. I’d had a small surgery a couple of years back and hadn’t used all of my
pain relievers. I figured pain was pain, so I washed them down with about two quarts of wine.”
Molly closed her eyes and breathed through her nose. “I’m sorry.”
Vicky started walking again. Molly, numb from more than the wind, followed.
“Town this size, word is going to travel fast. But Alan managed to keep a lid on things. He’s good friends with the doctor who pumped my stomach and recommended counseling. It’s helped. A lot. So has the medication he started me on. Which I take only as prescribed,” she said, shooting Molly a wry smile.
“Thank God neither of the kids know. Once I got past feeling mortified, all I could feel was guilt. Even now, Alan or Elizabeth or both check on me once a day. I hate knowing I did that to them.”
“I can’t imagine feeling how you felt, but I don’t think either of them blame you for anything or resent checking on you. You clearly matter to them.”
Her smile was bigger now, more genuine. “I do. I wish I could have seen how much before I put them through this. All of this. I don’t know if I would have believed it, though. Not in the state I was in. We managed to keep my news quiet, but in exchange, the two of them face the whispers of cheating and adultery constantly.”
She knew. They all knew. Except Vernon, who’d believed the absolute worst. Like you didn’t have your doubts. She pushed back the shame—she didn’t have the benefit of knowing them the way Vernon should have.
“For what it’s worth, the people who know Alan believe him to be faithful and completely in love with you,” she said, thinking of Sam and his mom.
“That helps. It does. But I know it’s still hard on them.”
The waves crashed harder and a chill wracked Molly’s body. They were a ways from the house now. As if just realizing, it, Vicky turned and they walked in the opposite direction.
“My best friend in the world, other than my husband, was questioned about a murder because of me.”
“Not because of you,” Molly said more forcefully than she’d intended.
“Vernon was trying to blackmail them. He was positive they were cheating.”
“And he was wrong. Elizabeth warned him to let it go. He chose not to listen to her.”
Vicky stopped walking and Molly shut her eyes, realizing what she’d said.
“You knew what was in their emails?”
Opening her eyes, she met Vicky’s. “Yes. I saw a printout on Alan’s desk.”
“That had to make you wonder.”
Molly shrugged, stuffing her hands in the lined pockets of the sweater. “Sure it did. But it didn’t jibe with what I’ve seen of either Alan or Elizabeth. It just didn’t sit right. Thank you for sharing your story with me.”
“I hope one day I’ll be brave enough to share it with others. I’ve thought of it. Especially the first time the cashier at Stop and Shop and Cora—you met her, so you’d know that evil glare she can give—whispered behind my back and gave me pitying looks. I hate the thought of Alan’s good name being dragged through the mud. Or Elizabeth’s. They’re two of the best people I know.”
Molly could understand the torment, but she also knew it wasn’t fair for Vicky to have to share something that was still so painful and private to her. “Anyone who really knows Alan and Elizabeth will already know the truth.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
“It’s true. There may be a lot of gossip in small towns, but the people you want on your side know how to weed through it.”
Vicky linked an arm through Molly’s as they approached the back of the house. The porch light was shining and she could see Elizabeth and Alan on the patio. Alan waved.
“I like you, Molly. I’m glad you’re here. I like how you think—the whole, everything-happens-for-a-reason idea. I wish I had a little more insight to the reasoning of things, but it gives me comfort thinking it.”
Molly laughed. “I hear you. I don’t always know the reason, either. Sometimes it’s pretty hard to figure out.”
All in all, it had been a lovely, if not slightly sad, evening. All three of them stood on the tiny front porch when Molly said good-bye. They watched her walk to her car and she looked up at them, waving back. Grateful for the motion light that had come on over the carport, Molly looked down to put her key in the lock. Her eyes widened and filled with tears. Blue, painted letters were scrawled on the side of her Jeep’s smooth polish, spelling the word LEAVE!
“Drive safe,” Vicky called.
“Thanks for coming,” Alan added.
“See you tomorrow,” Elizabeth said.
Molly looked up again, biting the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. She gave another half-hearted wave and let herself into the Jeep. Holding her breath, she started the engine and backed up, hoping they wouldn’t see anything when she pulled away. She made it to the end of the driveway before the first of her tears fell.
Chapter 18
Molly ended up pulling over, knowing the tears and the way her hands shook weren’t conducive to a safe drive. On the side of the freeway that had led her to Alan’s home, she dialed Sheriff Saron’s number. When she got his voicemail, she dialed Officer Beatty’s.
“’Lo?” His voice was thick with sleep.
“Officer Beatty? It’s Molly.”
She heard some shuffling. “I already told you to call me Chris. What’s wrong?”
Molly forced herself to breathe evenly and told him what had happened.
“I’m sorry. I should have just called the police station, but it has to be connected to…everything.”
“Don’t apologize. Head home. I’ll meet you there.”
Molly nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see her. When she hung up, she’d stopped crying, but she had to grip the steering wheel tightly to keep her hands steady.
By the time she pulled up to the carriage house, there were two vehicles parked behind Katherine’s: Sam’s and a police cruiser. Maybe Sam had been visiting his mom, but seeing as he was standing near her house talking to Chris, she doubted it.
Getting out of the vehicle, she grabbed her purse. Sam reached her first and pulled her into a hug. She hadn’t expected it, but she welcomed it like chocolate on a sundae. Wrapping her arms around his middle, she rested her head on his solid chest, letting the slow, steady thump of his heartbeat soothe her nerves.
One hand stroked down her hair. “Are you okay?”
Steadier and working her way toward mad over the damage to her Jeep, she pushed back. “I’m fine.”
“Evening, Molly,” Officer Beatty said. He was in plainclothes, but held a notepad and pen in his hand. He tapped them against his thigh as he wandered over to the driver’s side.
“What are you doing here?” Molly asked Sam quietly while Chris inspected the Jeep.
“Chris called me. Said you’d had some trouble and thought I might want to know.” Sam stared at her, then bent his knees so they were eye level. “He was right. I wanted to know. Just like I would have wanted to know about you thinking someone had been peering in your windows.”
Molly pinched the bridge of her nose, then looked up at him. She hadn’t wanted to bother him with that. She didn’t want to bother him with any of this.
“You don’t need this kind of trouble. I’m not sure who would have done this, but you don’t have to be concerned about me.”
The last thing she needed was him or his mother getting pulled into something because she was causing problems. Though she couldn’t figure out who would have reason to do this. Even more reason to keep Sam and his mom out of the fray.
“Door’s already open there. It’s too late if you want to close it. Doesn’t mean I won’t leave if you ask me to, but you don’t get to say what I worry about or don’t.”
She hadn’t heard that tone from him and realized that she was not only still shaky, she was being ungrateful.
/> “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just don’t want you and your mom getting dragged into something because of me. I have no idea why anyone would have done this.”
Sam’s expression softened and he took her hand, linked their fingers in a way that made her feel grounded. Connected. Cared for.
“It’s messy. Looks like they worked quickly. Might have been done like that on purpose. Paint looks nearly dry,” Officer Beatty said. He was taking pictures with his phone. “Sam, I’m going to try and get some prints off this. Need you to hold a flashlight. Molly, why don’t you go on inside. I’ll come talk to you in a few minutes.”
She started to argue. She didn’t want everyone doing everything for her. She could hold the flashlight. She could clean up her own mess. Tears filled her eyes again. She hadn’t done anything. Why would someone do this? Sam squeezed her hand.
“Tigger was whining a minute ago. I think he can sense you’re home. Why don’t you go let him out?”
She nodded. Letting the dog out and giving him a cuddle sounded better than holding a flashlight on the damage someone had inflicted on her pretty paint job.
Tigger was, literally, bouncing off the walls of his kennel in his effort to see her. She laughed, despite the tearstains on her cheeks and let him out, going straight to the back door. He ran out into the yard, back to her, then back out to the yard.
“Calm down, you silly fool,” she said. Inside, she was grateful for the happiness the affectionate dog felt at seeing her. When he finished in the yard, he came over, half-hopping, half-running and launched himself at her. She crouched down and gave him rubs on his back and his belly. When he’d settled a bit, she brought him in and locked the back door behind her.
Keeping herself busy, she got him some fresh water and practiced making him sit for a treat. He was getting it some of the time. Mostly, he was too excited for his own good and Molly couldn’t fault him for it. Sam and Chris came into the carriage house about fifteen minutes later. She offered them both a drink.
Passing Sam a soda, she took a seat on the couch, beside him, while Chris sat on the chair.