A Very Merry Murder

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A Very Merry Murder Page 11

by Cindy Kline


  “You’re not telling me everything, are ya, Molly Colleen?”

  Molly immediately felt guilty because her loyalty was first and foremost to her family.

  “That’s okay. You’ll tell me when you’re ready, or you won’t, makes no mind to me.”

  Gran picked up the basket and walked into her bedroom, Luna following on her heels.

  Molly finished her tea, put the cup in the dishwasher, grabbed her coat and umbrella and got in her car. A wave of tiredness hit her, so she made a quick stop at Reanna’s bakery for some breakfast tea and a cinnamon roll before driving the short distance to the West house. The rain had let up, but the sky was a sheet of gray clouds, so she expected there to be more rain later.

  Molly took a sip of her tea and set the Styrofoam cup back into the cupholder. She hadn’t called, but there were lights on in the house, so she got out of the car and walked up to the door. Was it only yesterday she was here with Henry?

  She knocked on the door, and a few seconds later, she heard a dog bark, and Mrs. West, today dressed in a pair of rust trousers, a cream-colored blouse with orange, brown and yellow leaves on it, with a rust cardigan. She frowned when she saw Molly until realizing she alone. Then it turned to a hesitant smile.

  “Molly, what are you doing here?” She moved away from the door and waved her in. “Come on in.”

  “Thank you.” Molly walked in, and Mrs. West shut the door.

  “How about some tea?”

  “No, thank you. I’ve had quite a bit already.” She smiled. “Um, I’m here about Henry.”

  Mrs. West sat down on the couch and motioned Molly to sit. She chose the chair across. “I haven’t changed my mind, Molly. I don’t want Reanna to know Henry’s her biological father.”

  Molly took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He’s in a coma.”

  She gasped, “A coma? What happened?”

  “All I know for sure is he was poisoned, but he also had a gash on his head when I found him.”

  Her fingers flew to her lips. “Oh, my God.” She leaned back on the couch, and Molly could see tears shining in her eyes. “His poor family. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to Owen.” She looked out at the room, but I had the impression she was a long way away. Maybe thirty-four years ago? A few seconds later, she said, “You know, he was the first man I ever truly loved.”

  Molly stayed quiet, just listening.

  “We were best friends first, you know?” She shook her head. “After we became lovers, I was so afraid our friendship was over.”

  Mrs. West became quiet.

  “And was it?” Molly asked, feeling very uncomfortable with the information she was hearing.

  “Yes, and no. I told him it wasn’t going to ever happen again.”

  “But it did.”

  She grimaced. “Yes, but he had a very wondering eye. I knew there were other women, and it broke my heart.” She played with the button on her sweater. “It was a friend of mine who made me realize I was in love with him. Quite a shock, let me tell you.” She smiled then, but it didn’t last long.

  “He was quite a drinker, and into drugs as well. Like I mentioned to you yesterday as you were leaving, he had a very loose relationship with the truth, no consideration for anyone’s feelings, let alone mine.” She shook her head. “I felt like the stupidest person alive for falling in love with him.”

  Molly moved from the chair to sit next to her on the couch and put her arm around Mrs. West. “The heart doesn’t choose who it falls in love with.”

  “He moved to Dublin, and I found out I was pregnant.” She took Molly’s hand in hers. “I told him yesterday the reason I didn’t tell him about the pregnancy was because he needed to leave and grow up, but it wasn’t the only reason.”

  Mrs. West looked at Molly, and then at the floor and back to Molly. “It didn’t take long to realize he’d hurt me more than I loved him, and I didn’t want such a destructive influence in my baby’s life.” There were tears in her eyes. Molly leaned over and gave her a hug.”

  “Mrs. West, may I ask you a question?”

  “Of course,” she said as she leaned over and took some tissues from a box on the end table.

  “Henry’s been living in Dooley for six months. Was yesterday the first time you saw him?”

  She shook her head. “I saw him once coming out of Moore Plastics. I was curious about the new company everyone was talking about, so I drove there one night after I closed the travel agency, and he was walking out to his car.” She laughed. “I did one of those duck and cover things you see on the telly, hoping he wouldn’t see me.”

  Molly left the West household with a heavy heart. She was tired, and she was angry. Why would someone try to kill him? Twice?

  Her phone rang as she was almost downtown, the screen on her dashboard telling her who it was. She almost didn’t answer.

  “Hey, Mum.”

  “Molly, I just heard. Are you okay?”

  “I think so. It’s just a lot to take in. I don’t understand why people have to hurt each other.”

  “I really wish you’d stop finding dead bodies, dear.”

  “He wasn’t dead, and it’s not something I plan on doing again soon—or ever.”

  “Would you like to come to tea today, dear?”

  “I would, but I have to work and then I’m going home and going to bed, Mum, but thanks.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “Love you too. Give my love to Dad, as well.”

  She pulled into her parking spot a few minutes later, surprised to see Ciara’s SUV parked a few spots away.

  Molly grabbed her now lukewarm tea from the cupholder, along with her briefcase, and made her way into the store through the back door. The lights were on, and Christmas carols were blaring from the speakers. She’d forgotten it was almost Christmas. She hung up her coat and found Ciara in the kitchen, making tea. Molly poured the liquid from her to-go cup, threw it away and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

  Molly looked around the small breakroom and smiled. One of the first things she’d done when she took over the store was to repaint this room into a soothing light-blue color. She smiled when she looked at the new wooden table and matching chairs. When she and Fiona had been painting one afternoon, Fiona was impatient because I was using the ladder, so she pulled one of the old chairs up and stood on it to reach the trim. It was so old, she fell right through. I can laugh at it now, but she scraped her leg and refused to help me paint after that, so she’d coerced Callum to help. The counter was bare other than the coffeemaker with its station drawer underneath. They kept it for customers who didn’t like tea. The drawer was sticking out. She pushed it back in, but it didn’t move. Something to add to her list to take care of.

  “What are you doing here? Today’s your day off.”

  “I heard about Henry Pierce on the news and thought you might be a little preoccupied today. Are you going to figure out who did it?” Ciara picked up the teapot and held it out to Molly.

  Molly offered Ciara her cup, “Oh, no. I’m staying as far away from this as possible.” Ciara filled it with the brown liquid, and then Molly sat down in a chair and added sugar to her cup and stirred.

  “Did you find your gloves last night?” Ciara asked.

  Molly shuddered, “No, I found Henry instead.”

  Ciara’s smile faded. “You were the one who found him? It didn’t say who found him on the news. Are you okay?”

  “Not really, but at least I found a body that was alive this time. I called Callum, along with an ambulance, and they rushed him to the hospital.”

  “Oh, Molly, how do you get yourself into these things?”

  “Apparently with little to no difficulty. At least I got to see Liam.”

  “Liam? That’s great, isn’t it?”

  Molly smiled. “Yes, it was. Callum called him and let him know I found the body, and he came by to check on me.”

  “And did he stay?”

&n
bsp; She shook her head, “I ended up spending the night with him after following him back to Ballyquicken so we could go to the hospital to see Henry. I drove back early this morning.”

  “The news didn’t mention any details, so spill.”

  “All I know is someone poisoned him with aconite, which is why he was so ill when we saw him, but he also had a gash on his head when I found him.”

  “Probably an upset husband,” Ciara said.

  Molly shook her head, “I don’t think so. He was sleeping with his assistant, who is a widow, and he seemed to regret it.”

  “Ha, I doubt that. He’s probably been cheating on his wife since they were married.” She refilled both their cups. “Did you meet his wife? What’s she like?”

  “I did. She seems to really love him, so either she didn’t know about the affairs or loved him enough to overlook it. I also met his mother-in-law. She’s quite a piece of work.”

  Ciara laughed.

  “What?” Molly’s eyes raised.

  “That sounded very American, that’s all. Even after six months, you still talk like a Yank sometimes.”

  “Sorry, but you should have seen her. Imogen, Henry’s wife, wanted to stay at the hospital, even had her own car there, and her mother made her leave him.”

  Ciara sipped her tea, “Imogen could have said no, couldn’t she?”

  “I don’t know. Mrs. Moore seems quite a force to be reckoned with.” She wrapped her hands around the cup. “She didn’t treat her daughter very well, considering her husband was in a coma. It’s almost as if she hoped he died.”

  “Maybe she was the one who poisoned him.” Ciara placed a plate of strawberry scones on the table, along with strawberry jam and cream. Molly’s mouth watered at the sweet smell as she took one and placed it on the dessert plate Ciara set in front of her, again realizing she never ate the cinnamon roll she bought at Reanna’s. If she kept this up, she’s going to have quite the stale bakery in her car.

  “Maybe. Liam and I were still at the hospital where I was being,” she held up her fingers and mimicked a quote sign, “‘interviewed’ by a DI Elliott whose name should be Eejit.”

  Ciara laughed.

  “I’m serious. He practically accused me of killing Henry because he allegedly came on to me, and I rejected his advances.” She shook her head, then concentrated on the scones. “When did you have time to bake these?” Molly added the jam, then the cream, and took a bite.

  “This morning. The kids actually slept in, so I had time to bake.”

  “Did Gran make it there on time? I waylaid her a little this morning.”

  “She did. She mentioned you wanted to see Mrs. West. Something about her and Henry being friends when they were younger.”

  “They were. I had taken him to see her yesterday. They had planned on meeting up again, so I wanted to tell her before she heard it on the news.” Molly looked at her watch and said, “Oh, it’s time we opened up the shop. I’ll do it,” and she dashed from the breakroom, grabbing her keys from the pocket of her coat she’d set on the coatrack and went to unlock the door. She noticed Henry’s keys tangled up in hers and gave herself a mental reminder to give them to the police.

  Molly couldn’t hide her surprise to see Imogen waiting at the door. Her long black coat went clear past her ankles, with a black and purple scarf tied around her face to keep the wind at bay. Molly opened the door, turning the sign from CLOSED to OPEN.

  “Imogen, I hope you haven’t been out there long. Come in.” The black bundle walked in, unfurled her scarf, took off her knit hat and gloves and unbuttoned her coat. Molly took a close look at her. Her eyes were red from crying, and there were dark circles under them. Without thinking, she gave Imogen a hug and held her tight. Imogen clung to her like plastic wrap. Molly wondered if anyone else had actually helped her since Henry’s accident. She was pretty sure it wouldn’t have come from her mother.

  “No. I waited in my car for a few minutes. I had just walked up when you unlocked the door.” They parted, and Molly led her into the breakroom and motioned for her to sit down. Imogen took off her coat and hung it on the back of the chair, and then sat.

  Ciara looked at Molly with raised eyebrows. “Ciara, this is Imogen Pierce, Henry’s wife. Imogen, this is Ciara, my sister-in-law and co-worker.”

  Ciara smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. Is there any word on how he’s doing this morning, Mrs. Pierce?”

  “I’m on my way back to the hospital now, actually. I called them this morning, and there’s been no change.” She clenched her lips. Molly thought it was to stem the tears she could see in the woman’s eyes. Molly opened the cupboard, pulled out a mug, added tea to it from the pot and set it in front of her.

  Imogen picked up the tea and took a sip. “Have you eaten?” Ciara asked, sliding the plate of scones closer to her.

  Imogen looked at the plate of scones, her eyebrows furrowed like she didn’t know what they were, then looked at Molly and Ciara. “I don’t remember.”

  Ciara pulled a plate from a cupboard and set it in front of her. Molly took a scone and placed it on her plate, sliding the jam and cream close to her as well.

  Imogen raised her eyes. “I just wanted to thank you again for what you did for Henry. The police officer said you’d spent some time with him?” Imogen’s eyes were downcast again, and Molly looked at Ciara, who shrugged her shoulders. Molly sat down and picked up her tea. It was cold, so she poured some from the pot and sat down again.

  “Imogen, I hope you don’t have the impression that there was anything between your husband and myself. He showed up here at the store on Monday night, not feeling well. We gave him some water, and he left. Then, when Ciara and I were leaving, we noticed him in the parking lot. He looked even worse but wouldn’t let us call an ambulance, so I drove him home.”

  Ciara added, “She’s telling the truth, Mrs. Pierce. I followed them to your home. We settled him on the couch, gave him his medicine and then left.”

  Imogen was still, so Molly continued the story. “I picked him up on Tuesday morning and took him to his car,” She didn’t tell Imogen about Reanna or Mrs. West. It wouldn’t serve any purpose except to hurt her, so why do so? “He had a doctor’s appointment, and so he left. However, he came back, but only because I think he had a lot on his mind and didn’t want to go back to work.”

  Imogen was openly crying now, the tears coming down her face. Ciara retrieved a box of tissues from the panty and set them in front of her. She pulled out a few and wiped her face, then took a deep breath.

  “What if I lose him?” She looked at us both. “He was fine when I left on Thursday.” She finally picked up the scone and took a bite. When she’d swallowed, she said, “I get on him about eating right, but when I’m not around, he tends to eat less healthy food, which upsets his ulcers. But he usually just takes his medicine, and he’s fine.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “Before I left for Dublin on Thursday afternoon.”

  “Did he seem like anything was bothering him?” Molly asked as she drank her tea. The shop’s doorbell rang, so Ciara excused herself to go help the customer.

  “I don’t think so. You must think badly of me, though, don’t you?” She couldn’t quite meet Molly’s eyes.

  “Bad of you? Why would I do that? I hardly know you.”

  “I know the entire town knows about Henry’s—indiscretions. The latest, I believe, is his assistant,” she gave me a bitter smile. “Quite the cliché, isn’t it?” She wrapped her hands around the mug as if to keep them warm. Molly took the teapot and warmed her drink.

  “Imogen, what goes on between you and Henry is no one’s business but your own, and I have no right to judge you, him or anyone else.” Molly set about making more tea.

  “That’s a unique perspective in a village such as this.” She took a bite of her scone.

  “Have you spoken to the doctor yet on his prognosis?” Molly couldn’t help but wonder if she k
new about the aconite.

  “All I’ve been told is there’s some swelling where the head injury is, and him being in a coma is the best thing for him. It will just depend on whether he wakes up.”

  Molly put her hand over Imogen’s. “Did the doctor say anything about aconite?”

  Imogen had been looking at her tea but looked up at her, her eyes glassy from unshed tears. “No. What is it?”

  “It’s a poison. It wasn’t his ulcers that were making him sick. Aconite is the poison derived from the monkshood plant. It’s very dangerous.”

  “But… how?” She shook her head. “Where can you get such a plant? It’s wintertime.”

  “That’s a good question,” Molly made a mental note to find that out. “You have a son at Trinity College, I hear?”

  She smiled for the first time. “Yes, his name is Rory. Thankfully, he had his last exam this morning, so he’ll be home today. I called to let him know about the accident. He’s meeting me at the hospital later on today. It will be good to have him with me.”

  “I’m glad he’ll be there with you. Is there anything I can do to help?” Molly asked.

  “Yes, actually there is,” she looked down at her teacup.

  Molly sipped her tea, waiting for Imogen to continue. After a few minutes of waiting, she noticed a new set of tears falling down her face. “Imogen?”

  She wiped her eyes again with a tissue. “My mother is friends with your grandmum, and she mentioned how you solved a murder when you first moved back to Ireland.”

  Molly’s grip tightened on her teacup. “Yes, I helped the police with a slight matter.”

  Imogen looked her in the eye as she asked, “I want you to find out who did this to Henry.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The memory of how her last investigation ended made Molly shiver. She rubbed her right arm, trying to block the memory of the burning sensation as the bullet passed through it.

  “Imogen, I wouldn’t even know where to start. I don’t know who his friends were, let alone his enemies. You’re better off letting the police handle it.” She tried not to think about DI Elliott, reminding her of all the inept police officers in books and movies she’s seen over the years.

 

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