“Molly, who is it?” Trish called.
“It’s Rachel for me!” she called back. She smiled at her. “Get in here.”
Stepping inside, Rachel put the cards in her pocket and pulled back the hood to her Windbreaker. “I heard you apologize to my machine,” she announced. “And I decided to forgive you since you’re recently widowed and knocked up and all. I’m glad to see you’re out of bed.”
Molly nodded and quickly pulled her into the study. She closed the door.
Rachel unzipped her Windbreaker. She glanced down at the sketch pad on Jeff’s desk. “That’s Natalie, isn’t it?”
Molly nodded. “It’s her name around here, at least. Tomorrow, I’m taking that sketch up to La Conner, and I’m hitting the spots where Jeff wined, dined, and had sex with that bitch. Someone’s bound to recognize her.”
“So — you think she’s really this Jenna person?” Rachel asked, a tiny bit skeptical.
“The owners of that house down the block, the Nguyens, they have no idea she’s living there,” Molly whispered. “I just talked to Mrs. Nguyen. Their house sitter, some guy named Todd, has them convinced the place is empty. And I have a feeling from today on, it will be. She’s not going to stick around now that she’s been found out. . ”
Rachel stared at her and didn’t say anything. Her light brown hair was a bit wet, and some raindrops slid down the sides of her face. For a moment, Molly wondered if she really believed her — or if maybe she’d just been trying to placate her earlier.
Molly remembered the pitying look Chet Blazevich had given her when she’d tried to convince him that Jeff had been murdered. She thought about the way just three hours ago, Trish and Holly gazed at her as if she were a mental patient. Was Rachel like them? Did she think all of this was in her mind — some paranoid conspiracy scenario from an unbalanced woman who was “recently widowed and knocked up and all?”
“I’m not making this up, you know,” Molly insisted. “I was just on the phone with Mrs. Nguyen fifteen minutes ago. I’m not sure why, but this Todd person lied and told them the place is empty. He’s been covering for this woman. And now she knows she’s been found out. But I don’t think she’ll quietly disappear, either. I think she’ll wreak as much havoc and take as many lives as she can before she vanishes.”
Rachel didn’t say anything. She just kept looking at her with a bewildered expression.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Molly asked, tears in her eyes.
“I do believe you, honey,” Rachel whispered, nodding. She grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I believe you, and I’m scared. I’m scared for all of us.”
The rumbling of the clothes dryer seemed to drown out her crying.
After five days, Chris and Erin were headed back to school tomorrow — and they didn’t have any clean clothes. Neither did Molly, for that matter. Still in her black funeral dress, she’d gone down to the basement after dinner to do some wash. She’d gathered a load of whites and found several of Jeff’s V-neck Tshirts. The shirts still smelled like him. He would never wear them again. She pressed one of the Tshirts to her face and started sobbing.
She didn’t hear anybody coming down the basement steps. But Molly glimpsed a shadow sweeping across the utility room wall. She swiveled around to see Chris standing in the doorway of the recreation room. “Oh, Jesus,” she gasped, a hand over her heart.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said sheepishly. He was wearing sweatpants and a Futurama T-shirt.
“That’s okay,” she said in a scratchy voice. “I just didn’t hear you — for a change.” Usually it sounded like a stampede when he was going up or down stairs. Molly set the T-shirt on top of the dryer. She tore off a sheet of paper towel from a roll above the laundry sink and blew her nose.
“You wanted Elvis to call and let us know once he got home all right,” Chris said. “He just called my cell. You can relax. He’s home, and he’s fine.”
“Thanks,” Molly said.
Chris and Elvis had stared at her as if she was crazy when she insisted Elvis phone them when he got home. She’d gotten a similarly perplexed look from Trish and Holly when she’d asked them to do the same thing as they’d left this afternoon. They’d called before dinner, saying they’d made it back to Tacoma okay.
“I know you think I’m being way overcautious,” she said. “But I have a good reason to be.”
“Why is that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You still think some lady killed my dad and mom — along with Larry and Taylor and Mrs. Garvey?”
“I forgot that you heard me talking to Detective Blazevich on Sunday.” Frowning, Molly nodded. “Yes, I think this woman is the one behind Courtney’s accident, and Mr. Hahn’s arrest, and Rachel’s toolshed catching on fire. I think she broke into your locker, too. Your mother even talked about it with me that last day—”
“The day she was killed,” Chris said.
Molly nodded. “Over lunch, your mother asked me, ‘Do you think some woman is trying to pit us against each other?’ And I believe your mother was right.”
Chris didn’t say anything. He folded his arms and leaned against a support beam.
“Let me ask you,” Molly said. “Do you really believe your father was alone in that hotel room when he overdosed? You know he didn’t do drugs, Chris. Don’t you think he might have been tricked into taking them?”
“Maybe,” he muttered, shrugging. “I used to think I knew my dad really well, but things changed. I’m not so sure anymore.”
Molly studied his hurt, confused expression as he glanced down at the floor. She realized she couldn’t tell him that Jenna Corson could have orchestrated all the recent killings and tragedies — not until she knew for certain. If he knew the scandal with Mr. Corson had caused his parents’ deaths, Chris wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt.
“I believe Natalie, the woman staying in the Nguyens’ house, might be responsible for everything that’s going on,” Molly said.
“That’s the jogger lady you don’t like,” Chris said. “Is she the one you were yelling at in front of the church today? I couldn’t make out what you were saying. . ”
Molly nodded. “I think she’s very dangerous. She knows she’s been found out, so I doubt she’ll be coming back to the Nguyens’ house. If she has any unfinished business, she’s going to wrap it up very soon. We have to be on our guard. If you see her, Chris, you need to let me know.”
Reaching up with one hand, Chris tugged at the clothesline. “Well, I really don’t know what she looks like, so that’ll be kind of tough.”
Molly could tell he wasn’t taking her very seriously. She opened the dryer, took out a pile of warm towels, and started folding them. “I’m just trying to tell you to be very careful and cautious for the next day or two. As soon as I can gather some more information about this woman, I’m going to the police.”
“Why don’t you go to the police now?” he asked.
“Because — like you, they don’t believe me,” Molly replied edgily. “They think I’m paranoid — and irrational and maybe crazy.”
“I was talking to Elvis, and he said ladies can get that way when they’re pregnant.”
Molly put down an unfolded hand towel. “So — you know?”
“Yeah, like I told you, I heard you talking to that cop.”
“And how do you feel about becoming a big brother again?” she asked nervously.
He gave an uneasy shrug. “To be honest, I’m not really sure. Are you keeping it?”
She scowled at him. “Of course I’m keeping it! What kind of question is that?”
“Well, you said you were mad at Dad. I wasn’t sure how you felt about having his baby.”
“Chris, I loved your father,” she said. “I want very much to have this baby. I know you and Erin have had your problems adjusting to me as your stepmother. You’d probably prefer to go live with Aunt Trish, or have her move here. But—”
“Aunt Trish doesn’t want us,” he
interrupted. “She told me last night. She’s got her own life, and she’s going to India in a few months. So you’re it. Nobody else wants to take us.”
Molly let out a stunned laugh. “Well, I don’t have anybody else but you guys. So I guess we’re stuck with each other. Are you okay with that, Chris?”
“Sure, I guess,” he murmured.
She smiled at him and then uncertainly put her arms out.
Chris shuffled over and awkwardly hugged her.
She patted his back. “I really wish you were happier about this — and about the baby.”
“Give me a little time, Molly, okay?” he whispered. “Just a little more time.”
He went to bed at 11:20. Molly stayed up late, getting MapQuest directions from the Internet for the places she needed to visit in La Conner tomorrow. She got an e-mail from Rachel at 12:55 A.M:
I’m locking up and going to bed. I can see your study light is still on. Get some sleep. You don’t want to get sick again! See you tomorrow * * *
But Molly didn’t go up to bed. She got a blanket and slept on the living room sofa. If Natalie’s car came down the street, she wanted to hear it. And if someone tried to break into the house, she wanted to hear that, too.
She had her family to protect.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Hi, it’s Todd. You’ve missed me, but you got my voice mail. You know what to do. Talk after the beep. Ciao for now.”
Standing in the driveway, Molly held the cell phone to her ear. At this point, she really didn’t expect him to pick up or call her back.
With a sigh, she clicked off her phone and shoved it in her purse. She already had a supply of peppermints to ward off morning sickness in there. She set the purse on the front passenger seat of her Saturn. Also on the seat were MapQuest directions to various spots in La Conner, and her sketch of Natalie. A bottle of water was in the cup holder.
She’d put Erin on the school bus, and her stepdaughter had actually hugged her good-bye — the first demonstration of affection since the yellow-paint incident. Chris had taken his dad’s Lexus to school. He and Elvis had picked it up at some police holding lot on Monday. Molly figured the cops had taken it from the hotel so they could search it for drugs.
Before leaving the house, she’d called Rachel to make sure she was all right. “Not really,” her neighbor had replied, sounding groggy. “I didn’t sleep well last night, and I’m feeling a little baby barfy right now. Call me when you get back from La Conner, okay?”
Molly hadn’t slept too well herself. She’d kept listening for a car on the block but never heard anything. She’d finally dozed off at around three in the morning. Without her usual two cups of Starbucks Breakfast Blend, she still felt sluggish. But at least she wasn’t sick.
It was chilly and overcast out. She had on a black sweater, jeans, and a pea jacket. Before ducking behind the wheel, she glanced once more down the block at the Nguyens’ house. The windows were dark, and Natalie’s car wasn’t in the driveway.
As far as Molly knew, Natalie hadn’t come back since the funeral yesterday. If that woman shouting, “Jenna!” at her hadn’t sent her scurrying, an obvious bulletin from Todd about her precarious living arrangement certainly had. That meant her things were still there — maybe even some personal items like an appointment book or a journal.
Molly made sure her car doors were locked; then she hiked up the collar of her pea jacket and started down the street toward the Nguyens’ house. Lynette’s car wasn’t in the driveway, and it hadn’t been there yesterday, either. Next door, Jill’s Toyota was parked in front of her garage.
Heading up the Nguyens’ walkway, Molly glanced over to Jill’s house to make sure no one was watching her. She rang the Nguyens’ bell twice and then tried the door. Locked. After a cautious glance over her shoulder, she crept behind some bushes alongside the house to the first window. The curtains were open, and she studied the formal dining room — with a chandelier over the table for six. She saw a sweater, some magazines, and what looked like a pile of mail on the table. Over on the side table, there was a boom box.
Molly had been inside the Nguyens’ house twice — once for a party, and another time to pick up donations for a charity drive. She remembered a beautiful silver service on that side table. A silver bowl with two silver candelabras had been in the center of the dining table. Molly wondered if the Nguyens packed up all that stuff and put it in storage whenever they went to Denver.
“Have you seen this woman take anything from house?” Mrs. Nguyen had asked.
Perhaps Natalie — or whatever name she used with the pawnbroker — had sold a few household items for some quick cash.
Molly skulked out from behind the bushes and crept around to the back of the house. She tried the kitchen door. It was locked, too. The kitchen window was open a crack, but she couldn’t reach it. By the garbage cans, she noticed an empty square plastic crate to collect recycling. Grabbing the crate, Molly threaded her way through some bushes by the house. She found a bare spot beneath the kitchen window, set the plastic box upside down, and stepped up on it. The crate didn’t feel too sturdy. She nervously clung to the windowsill. She was terrified of falling and possibly harming the baby.
Past the screen window, she peered into the Nguyens’ kitchen. It was a mess. When Molly had last seen the place, Mrs. Nguyen had the kitchen looking spotless, and on the counter had been a collection of top-of-the-line cooking aids — a Mixmaster, rice cooker, blender, and toaster oven. None of those things was there anymore. But the counter was cluttered with dirty plates and glasses, empty bottles and cans, Styrofoam containers, and fast-food bags.
To get inside, she’d need a screwdriver or something to pry the screen off the window. And even then, she couldn’t boost herself up past the sill to climb in — not from this vantage point. She needed a ladder and someone to spot her.
Molly stepped down from the crate. She crept along the side of the house, stopping at every basement window, and then getting down on all fours to see if any of them were unlocked. She rounded the corner and was about to test the fourth basement window when she heard a twig snap behind her.
Molly turned and saw someone standing a few feet away, staring down at her.
“Oh, Jill, God, you scared me,” she said.
“What are you doing?” her neighbor asked.
Molly straightened up and then stepped around the shrubs. “Oh, I–I was looking for Erin’s pet ferret, Fergie. She — she got out, and I chased her down the block to the backyard here. You haven’t seen her, have you?”
With a baffled look, Jill shook her head.
Molly glanced toward the Nguyens’ house. “I hope I didn’t disturb Natalie.”
“I don’t think she’s home,” Jill said. “I haven’t seen her since the funeral yesterday. How are you holding up?”
Molly shrugged. “I’m a little better than yesterday. Thanks for asking.”
“Listen, if Natalie doesn’t come back tonight, you and Rachel will have the cul-de-sac to yourselves,” Jill said. “Lynette and the kids are staying at her sister’s, because she’s closer to the hospital. And Darren’s sleeping over at a friend’s tonight, so I’m going to our cabin on Anderson Island.”
“Well, have a good time,” Molly said.
“That detective mentioned at that block-watch meeting that we should let neighbors know if we won’t be home, so I figure what the heck. Anyway, I should get cracking if I want to catch the next ferry.” She turned and started toward her house. “I hope you find your ferret!” she called over her shoulder.
“I’ll weed her out!” Molly replied.
Five minutes later when she got back to her car, Molly dug the cell phone out of her purse and dialed Rachel again. She still sounded sleepy when she picked up. “Hello?”
“I’m sorry to bother you again, but could you do me a big favor?” Molly asked.
“What is it?” Rachel asked, yawning.
“Just make sure if Na
talie comes back, that she doesn’t leave again. I don’t want her clearing out the house and then disappearing. Could you keep a lookout while I’m in La Conner?”
“I’ll set up a roadblock should she return,” Rachel said. “Seriously, I might go to the mini-mart for a few minutes, but I won’t linger. I promise.”
“Thanks,” Molly said. “When I get back this afternoon, we’ll have the entire block to ourselves. Everyone else will be gone. If Natalie left anything behind in the house, this is our chance to sneak in there and take a look. How would you like to help me get inside the Nguyens’ later today?”
“You mean like breaking and entering?”
“Well, you’d hold a ladder while I pry a screen off the kitchen window and climb inside. So — yes, breaking and entering.”
“Sounds like fun. Sign me up. Listen, I’m still not feeling a hundred percent right now. But I should rally by the time you get back. I’ll call your cell if Nat makes an appearance.”
“Thanks, Rachel,” she said. “Feel better. And be careful. Watch your back, okay?”
“I will. Good luck up in La Conner.”
Molly heard her hang up on the other end. She clicked off and set the phone down on the passenger seat.
Biting her lip, she started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. She glanced over at Rachel’s house. She wondered if her neighbor really took her seriously. Did she have any idea just how dangerous Natalie could be? Rachel was the only friend she had right now, and she didn’t want to lose her.
As she pulled out of the cul-de-sac, Molly was still worried about Rachel.
She didn’t notice the NO OUTLET sign at the end of the block was missing.
Chris didn’t take his father’s Lexus to school.
He drove it to the Marriott by the airport. He parked in the same tiered lot his father had probably used five days ago. He’d brought along a photo of his dad. He wasn’t sure how much he believed Molly’s rants about a woman causing all these recent deaths and accidents; but he knew she was right about something. His dad wouldn’t have been in that hotel room alone.
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