by Ellery Adams
“I’d like to talk to her, too,” Molly said. “I’ll wait, of course, until you’ve informed her of Charlotte’s death and had a chance to question her, but can you let me know when you’ve done that?”
“Sure.”
Molly smiled. She knew Lombardi had to walk a fine line with her, and was always careful about how much and what kind of information he shared. He couldn’t risk jeopardizing his cases. Molly was careful to stay on her own parallel track, and gather what she could on her own, but the breadcrumbs he gave her were appreciated. She felt terrible about Charlotte’s death, the way she had died, and the apparent rage behind it. Smashing the urn into the back of her skull seemed like an angry act. If the coins had anything to do with it, she wanted to know, because if they did, then whoever killed her was still out there looking for them.
Chapter 4
Molly loved her home. The 1920s brick Tudor house was beautiful and homey, and had everything they needed—three bedrooms, two full baths, a separate office, and an open-concept gourmet kitchen with a sunny dining room and great room. The in-law suite over the garage had been a bonus when Clara had moved in with them, but she and Sean now had their own home. The house belonged to Sean, who had completely renovated it after he’d moved to Vermont. He had intended to live there, but while construction was ongoing, he had found another house, and rented out the Tudor when the work was completed. It was Molly and Matt’s good fortune that it became available at the same time they made their move. They hoped that Matt would be offered a permanent position at UVMC, and as soon as they got word that he had, they were going to buy the house from Sean.
Molly waited until dinner was over, and Tyler was tucked into bed, before she told Matt about her extraordinary day. They were in the great room, a game show on the television was muted, and Matt was in his recliner with his feet up. Molly sat on the couch, and sighed a little as she looked at her husband. She thought he was handsome with his sandy blond hair and light blue eyes. She loved his height, too, since she was five foot eight, and yet she still only reached the level of his wide shoulders. She had always found it difficult dating men who were shorter than her. She didn’t like looking at the top of their heads.
When she was done telling him about her day, he said, “I don’t know what’s more incredible. That you found another body, or that your father wants to meet you.”
“I know. It almost doesn’t seem real.”
“Has Lombardi told Rene Flores about her friend?”
“He said he’d call me, but I haven’t heard from him.”
Matt looked at her. “I don’t want to sound like your mother, but are you sure you want to get involved in another murder investigation?”
“Not you, too,” she groaned. “I can do my research, and question people, and figure out what I’m going to do about my father at the same time. Besides, I told Swanson I’d have something to him next week on Charlotte.”
“So? It’s not like he’s going to fire you if you write about someone else. You have a list of people you want to interview. Pick one.”
Carl Swanson, her boss in North Carolina, was a chain-smoking grouch, but Molly got along with him better than the rest of the staff, who lived in fear of him. Matt knew that as his star reporter, he gave her a lot of leeway.
“I don’t want to, Matt. I feel like it’s fate that I found Charlotte’s body, and the candy tin in her desk, with the coins. And what’s up with that gun? It’s all so mysterious.”
Matt smiled. “I know it’s hopeless to try to talk you out of it. Once you get on the scent, you’re like a hound dog on the hunt. Just be careful, okay? That case you worked on last year wasn’t a cake walk. I was worried about you.”
“I promise, I’ll be careful. As for the other matter, do you have any advice? Like what do I do if Nathan calls, or shows up at our door?”
“I thought your mother said he was leaving it up to you to get in touch. You tell her, and she tells him.”
“But he isn’t a reliable person, is he? I don’t trust him not to reach out on his own.”
Matt thought about it. “I suppose if he calls out of the blue, you can ignore him, and if he shows up at the door, you can tell him you aren’t interested in getting to know him. If that’s what you want.” He paused. “There is one other option. You could invite him in, and have a real conversation.” Molly made a face. “I can see from your expression you’re not wild about that idea. I don’t blame you. You’ve never had to make a decision like this before. But for the first time, the ball is in your court, and I think you might regret it if you don’t have that conversation with him. You might never get another chance to hear his side of the story.”
Matt was Molly’s anchor, and she trusted his opinion, but suggesting she listen to the excuses of a man who couldn’t be bothered to contact her until she was a grown adult with a husband and a child was something she wasn’t sure she could do. “I already know what happened,” she said. “I was born, he couldn’t handle it, and he walked out the door.”
“No offense to your mother, who you know I love dearly, but you’re parroting her version of events. Nathan will likely have his own version, and you’ll never know what it is if you don’t talk to him.”
Molly sighed. “I wish Ma had broken off all contact with him after I turned eighteen. I could have taken out loans for school, and whatever trust she and my grandmother wanted to set up for me would have been fine no matter how much, or how little, was in it. I’ve been working since I was sixteen. I didn’t need their help.”
“I’m not going to try to defend what Nathan did, but I will give him some credit for coming forward now. Even if it feels too late in your mind, it takes guts to admit when you’re wrong. Try to keep an open mind.”
Molly’s cell phone rang on the kitchen counter. She got up to answer it. “That’s probably Ma, wanting to know what she should tell him, and I’m not ready to give her my answer.” She grabbed her phone and was relieved to see Lombardi’s name on the screen. “Hiya, Lombardi. Are you still at work?”
“I’m leaving the station, driving home,” he said. “I spoke to Rene Flores.”
Molly went into her office and shut the door. On the other side, she heard Matt turn the volume back up on the television. “How did she take the news?”
“She was calm and cool. She asked me if I had any idea who killed Charlotte, before I could ask her. I told her it was early days, and I needed to talk to her. She said she’d drive to Vermont tonight. We have a meeting set for eight o’clock tomorrow morning at the station. She did tell me she’s the executor for Charlotte’s will, and she’ll be making the funeral arrangements. She said Charlotte doesn’t have any living relatives that she knows of.”
“Is she inheriting everything that belongs to Charlotte?”
“I don’t know. I’m leaving that question for our interview.”
“Did you ask her about the coins, and the gun, if they were Charlotte’s?”
He laughed. “You’re so impatient. I’d rather ask her when I see her in person. I did, however, tell her you were the one who found Charlotte. She knew your name, said Charlotte subscribed to your magazine. She didn’t know anything about the interview you’d set up with her, but said she’d like to talk to you. She’s making a reservation at the Hotel Vermont.” This was Molly’s favorite hotel. She had stayed there while planning her wedding, and had met Lombardi there, after getting herself involved in her first murder case in Vermont. “She asked if you could meet her there at ten o’clock. I’ll text you her cell number so you can let her know if you’ll be there.”
“Thanks.” Molly felt that familiar thrill she always got when she started a new investigation.
“Any decision on the dad front?”
“Matt thinks I should meet him, and hear his side of the story. I’m still on the fence.”
“Well, look at the bright side. You hold all the cards.”
She laughed. “You and Matt are on the sa
me page. He told me the ball is in my court.”
“Great minds think alike,” he said. “But it’s true, when you think about it. When your father ran out on you and your mother, that was his choice. Years have passed, he stayed away, which was also his choice. Now the tables are turned. It’s your choice, if you want anything to do with him.”
“You’re right,” she said, feeling a little better about it. This was her decision to make.
Chapter 5
As Matt showered the next morning, Molly put on her fuzzy slippers and tied the belt of her bathrobe tight around her waist. She padded down the hall and checked on Tyler, and since he was still sleeping, she went quietly downstairs to start breakfast. She had left her cell phone on the granite countertop to charge overnight. Before going to bed, she had texted Rene to let her know she would meet her at ten o’clock at the hotel. Rene had replied that she would meet her in the lobby.
Molly took two raspberry muffins out from under the glass cake dome on the table. She prepared Matt’s usual breakfast of muesli and yogurt, brewed two cappuccinos, and set everything out on the table in time for him to dash downstairs to eat. Matt never lingered long over breakfast. He liked to sleep in as long as he could in the morning, and it was a good idea to stay out of his way when he came down to rush through breakfast. He wolfed down his food, drank his coffee, and kissed Molly goodbye before she had even finished eating.
She checked the baby-cam on the counter. Tyler was stretching and waking up. She went back upstairs into his room. He was standing up in his crib. She lifted him out, and dressed him in blue jeans and a gray Thomas the Train hoodie. She was very proud of her son. He had mastered potty training at eighteen months, and it had made all of their lives easier.
In the kitchen, she settled Tyler on his booster seat, then chopped up a hardboiled egg. He was almost done eating his breakfast when Starling appeared in the doorway in her pajamas.
Starling Harrison was Matt’s niece. Twenty-six years old, she was a professional nanny, and had moved in with them three weeks before Tyler’s birth. In high school she had taken babysitting courses at the American Red Cross, volunteered at a local hospital, and participated in after-school programs for children. After graduation, she’d gone on to college and earned her associates degree in early childhood education. She was also a member of the International Nanny Association. When Matt and Molly made her an offer, she’d jumped at the chance to leave Ohio for Vermont. They paid her a generous salary, and she lived rent-free in the in-law apartment over their garage, the one Clara moved out of when she married Sean. She was not only a member of their family, but had become a good friend to Molly, and best of all, Tyler adored her.
“Good morning, my favorite people.” Starling kissed the top of Tyler’s head, and he smiled up at her. He always lit up when he saw Starling.
“Rene confirmed our appointment at ten o’clock,” Molly said. She had brought Starling up-to-date on everything before she’d gone to bed the night before, after Starling had come in from a late dinner with her friend Rachel. It was important that she was in the loop, since she relied on her to not only take care of Tyler, but to be aware of any danger a case she was working on might bring.
Starling walked over to the coffee machine. Molly never got over how much she looked like her Uncle Matt. She had the same sandy blond hair, which she wore long and loose, and the same light blue eyes. The only difference was in their heights. Starling took after her mother, who was five foot four.
“I thought Rene would cancel on you.”
“Why?” Molly sipped her cappuccino. It was so good, she didn’t want to drink it too fast.
“Because I think she’s the most likely person to have killed Charlotte.”
Molly looked at her. “Based on what?”
“You told me Tony said she was calm when he told her Charlotte was murdered.” Starling and her mother were the only people Molly knew who called Lombardi Tony. As her latte brewed, she took a muffin out of the cake dome. “If my friend had been killed, I don’t think I’d be in any shape to drive to Vermont to meet with the police. And why would she want to meet you? If she knew who you were, then she knows you investigate crimes against people in the antiques community, and you’ve got a proven track record of solving them.” She took a big bite of her muffin. “You ask me, something is off. And you know what? I Googled Pockets of Time, and they’re closed on Mondays. She could have driven up here early in the morning, killed her, and made it back to Boston by noon.” Starling’s coffee was done, and she sat down at the table with Molly. “You should ask her why Charlotte came up here in the first place. Why did she leave Boston without her? Were they still business partners? Did they have a big argument?”
Molly smiled. She loved that Starling had a curious mind, and that she could discuss cases with her. It was one of the reasons she thought Starling’s relationship with Lombardi might have a chance of working out. They had dated for almost six months before he called it off, citing their ten-year age difference as the reason. Molly didn’t believe age had anything to do with it. Lombardi had his own proven track record—his problem with long-term commitment.
“Those are very good questions, and I’ll be sure to ask her,” Molly said. She finished her muffin, and took the last sip of her cappuccino. She thought about making another, but she still had to shower and dress. “What are you two up to today?”
Starling tickled Tyler’s tummy, and he giggled. “We’re going to the park. The weather is supposed to be nice again today, and I want to take advantage of it while it lasts. He really loves the swings.”
Molly took her dishes to the sink. As she rinsed them off, she said, “I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with Rachel and Michael. Are they going to be at the park?”
Rachel was also a professional nanny, and was Starling’s best friend. The little boy she took care of, Michael, was four months older than Tyler, and very rambunctious. Starling knew that Molly wanted her to be careful around him.
“They won’t be there today,” Starling said. “You better take your shower. You don’t want to be late.”
Molly showered and dressed in tan corduroy pants and a white turtleneck. As she ran a comb through her shoulder-length brown hair, she studied her reflection in the mirror. She had only seen old photographs of her father, and had no idea what he looked like today. At the time of her birth, he was a young man, tall and skinny, with wild hair and a full beard. She wondered what he looked like without all that facial hair, and if she favored him at all.
You can find out, if you agree to meet him.
Molly shook her head. She went downstairs, grabbed her purse and car keys, and headed out the door. She wasn’t going to spend her day thinking about her father. She had a murder to solve.
Chapter 6
Molly had no trouble finding Rene Flores in the lobby, since she was the only person there, seated on a sofa by the blazing gas fireplace. As Molly walked over to her, she stood, and folded a newspaper she’d been reading. “You must be Molly. I’m Rene.” She had a deep, almost masculine voice, and a very strong handshake. “I ordered coffee, and thought I had ordered two chocolate croissants, but they gave me a plate of eight. I hope you’re hungry.”
Molly wasn’t too hungry, since she’d just eaten breakfast, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying one of the chocolate croissants. Juniper, the hotel’s restaurant, overlooked the lobby, and the aroma of grilled food was making her mouth water.
She sat on a chair across from Rene, who was dressed in a long black skirt and a red-and-white-striped top with a ruffled neckline. The plate of croissants was on the coffee table, along with a silver carafe of coffee, cream and sugar, and an extra china cup and plate. Molly made herself a coffee. She noticed Rene’s cup was almost full, so she didn’t ask her if she wanted her to top it off. Rene was watching her with her catlike green eyes. Her dark hair was cut short, except for the bangs, which were long enough to brush the to
ps of her eyelashes.
“Thank you for seeing me.” Molly balanced a china plate on her lap and put a croissant on it. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling, losing your friend in such a violent manner.”
“I still can’t believe she’s dead,” Rene said. “I feel like I’m in some kind of horrible dream. I suppose reality will catch up to me soon enough. I met with Detective Lombardi this morning. He asked me to come to the medical examiner’s office this afternoon to positively identify her body.” She crossed her legs, and a black leather boot with a silver buckle swung in Molly’s direction. “I dread seeing her that way. I want to remember her alive. I wish I didn’t have to do it, but she had no one else.”
“How long have you known each other?”
“We met in foster care when we were twelve.” Rene smiled, but it never touched her eyes, and Molly noticed that they were slightly red, and the tender skin beneath them was slightly puffy. She’s been crying, she thought. “I was sent to live at the home where she’d been for eight months. Our foster parents, the Hendricks, were an older couple, kids grown up and out of the house. We were their first foster kids.” She took a tiny bite of croissant. A dainty way of eating, or maybe she was watching her waistline. “Charlotte had been in the system for years, and she was used to it,” she said. “For me, it was scary, my first time going into someone’s house to live with them. Charlotte told me I was lucky, because the Hendricks were good people. The family she’d been with before them hadn’t been so nice. Anyway, I considered myself lucky because I had Charlotte. We not only lived together, we went to the same school, and we became best friends, as close as any sisters. We made a pact with each other when we were sixteen, that we’d always stay together. Charlotte started making plans about where we would live, and what we would do after we graduated high school. We would be timed out of the system at eighteen, and the Hendricks wouldn’t be able to keep us anymore.”