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  Molly waved back. “Couldn’t sleep any longer.”

  Tigger tugged on the leash, trying to close the distance between them and Sam’s mom.

  “Come have some breakfast,” Katherine said.

  “Oh, that’s okay. I’m good.”

  The pup continued to fight her hold as Katherine put her hands to her hips. “Don’t be silly. Meet me on the front porch in five minutes.”

  Leaving no room for argument, the woman turned and spoke with her guests. Molly chuckled and took the path to her place.

  “I bet no one says no to her,” she told Tigger.

  Her furry companion did not appreciate going from the bright outdoors to the kennel. Maybe she should try leaving him out. He was really well behaved—which made her think he’d been someone’s pet. But, what if she left him out and he tore things up? Katherine had been so gracious about him being there, Molly didn’t want to risk it.

  Not yet. Grabbing her cell phone, she made it to the front porch with about thirteen seconds to spare. Katherine came through the front door, a basket of muffins in her hand.

  “What do you like in your coffee? Mine is already out here. You take these and I’ll grab you a cup,” she said, passing over the basket.

  “Please don’t go to any trouble,” Molly insisted, knowing her landlord wouldn’t listen to her.

  “Hush. How do you take it?”

  Molly laughed. “Cream and sugar. Thank you.”

  When Katherine went inside, Molly took a seat at the cozy bistro set nestled into the corner of the wraparound porch. In the other corner was a gorgeous wooden swing. She’d have to see about reading a book in that spot one day soon, if Katherine didn’t mind. Looking around, Molly noted that the other homes on the street were similar in style, but the bed-and-breakfast—aptly named Creekside—stood out in a dozen tiny ways: The path from the street to the porch paved with intricately carved stones, the clusters of flowers adorning the adorable window boxes, the miniature birdhouses that were barely noticeable. It was the tiny touches that set it apart. No doubt all because of Katherine Alderich.

  The front door opened and Katherine came through, her smile and outfit matching the shine of the sun.

  “Here we go. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to sit with you yet. How are you doing? Honestly. Don’t use the words fine or okay.”

  Again, Molly found herself laughing. She had a feeling that her mom and Sam’s mom would get along well. “I’m enjoying the day off. But, honestly, I feel out of sorts. Like my skin doesn’t fit right. I’ll be feeling happy and carefree and then realize a man died and I feel terrible and even a little scared.”

  That was as honest as she’d been with anyone, including herself. Picking up the brightly colored mug, she took a welcome sip of really good coffee. So good, she sighed in pleasure.

  “That’s a lot of weight to carry. What you saw…most people go a long time without seeing.”

  She passed Molly a still-warm muffin. After removing the wrapper, she broke a piece off and put it in her mouth. The delicious mixture of cinnamon and apple assaulted her taste buds. If all of the food in Britton Bay was going to be mouthwatering, Molly was going to have to up her workout routine.

  “These are indescribably delicious,” Molly said when she’d swallowed.

  “Aren’t they? I’d love to take credit, but Bella made them. You’ve met her, right? She owns Morning Muffins.”

  Molly broke off another piece. “I have met her. I thought her scones were a thing of beauty, but these. Wow.”

  “She’s a talented girl, just like her mama was,” Katherine said, taking a bite of her own.

  “This town is full of good food, nice people, and interesting stories,” Molly said. She looked at her coffee cup and her throat tightened. And one murderer.

  A woodpecker rapped at one of the large trees that stood like pillars to the path of the house.

  “That’s the truth. What’s your story?” Katherine picked up her coffee and leaned back in the chair.

  What was her story? Most days, she wasn’t entirely sure. “I think I’m still searching for it,” Molly said, dabbing at the muffin crumbs on her plate with her index finger.

  “Don’t spend so much time searching that you miss out on what’s right in front of you,” Katherine warned.

  Looking up, she met the woman’s gaze. “Wouldn’t be the first time I didn’t pay attention to what I should have seen all along. I promise, I’m paying closer attention now.”

  Katherine nodded, looking pleased with Molly’s answer. They sat, enjoying their coffees, listening to the birdsong, the smell of magnolia blooms curling around them. Molly was thinking about the best way to spend her day off when her cell phone buzzed.

  Picking it up, she saw Alan’s name on the screen. “Hi Alan.”

  “Molly, I know it’s your first day off and it’s been a heck of a week, but can you come in? Hannah’s going to come in for a few hours as well,” Alan said. His voice was thin, on the cusp of panic.

  Sitting upright, she nodded even though he couldn’t see. “Of course. What’s wrong?”

  “The police are bringing Elizabeth in for further questioning. As an actual suspect. I can’t let her go through that alone. I’m sorry to ask—”

  “Don’t be silly. I’ll be there shortly.”

  She hung up and shared what Alan had told her.

  “Poor dear. She’s been through enough,” Katherine said.

  Molly squashed her immediate curiosity about the statement and started to pick up her plate and cup.

  Sam’s mom waved her hands away. “I’ll take care of that. You go on and get ready.”

  “Thank you,” Molly said.

  As she whipped through her routine to get ready, she couldn’t believe the chain of events. If anyone she worked with was going to be considered a suspect, she really thought it’d be Clay.

  Chapter 11

  The office was empty when Molly arrived. She didn’t mind, as she’d brought Tigger. She wasn’t sure how Alan felt about having a pet in the building, but she didn’t want the little guy in the kennel all day. Before she got much more attached, she should consider putting an ad out describing him. With the newspaper being at the end of the street, her sign in the window wasn’t getting much foot traffic.

  As Tigger bounced through the door, Molly smirked. “An ad. That’s just silly. In a town like this, I just need to get the word out.”

  Tigger ran back to her and jumped on her shins. She bent her knees and told him “down,” but couldn’t help crouching to give him a scratch behind the ears.

  “We shouldn’t get attached, bud.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Too late, isn’t it?”

  She knew it and so did the dog. But it could be their little secret for now. Setting him up with his kennel door open in case he wanted to sleep, some water, and some toys in her office, Molly got to work. As summer tiptoed closer, Britton Bay had a host of regular activities and it was time to focus on some of those. The police would focus on the murder.

  There was the night market, midweek, where vendors sold their wares and food trucks came in from other areas. On weekends, live music played on a makeshift stage at the park kitty-corner to the newspaper office. Toward the edge of town, an old drive-in was being resurrected. There were plenty of things to share with the townspeople.

  Molly started a list of similar activities in neighboring towns because it was a great way to increase their readership. She changed the layout to include a list of movies at the theater about thirty minutes outside of the Bay. What she really wanted to get done was the website. Now that she knew people actually used it, they needed to be sure it was updated regularly. She took a quick break to take Tigger out and toss his ball a few times before digging in. She was pleased with her progress by the time Hannah showed up after school.

/>   “Hey,” Hannah greeted.

  Molly turned from her laptop to say hi. “Hi. How are you?”

  Hannah’s blond hair was tucked back in a braid. She wore yoga pants and a hoodie. She tossed her bag on the floor near the desk she used. Molly had a quick flashback to her own high school days. At Hannah’s age, she’d also worked on the school newspaper, but she’d been much shier and definitely not as graceful.

  “Okay. School wasn’t great. All anyone is talking about is the murder. Did you really see his body? Was it horrible? I can’t stop thinking about how much I disliked him and now he’s dead and I feel so guilty for that.”

  When the teen sniffled, Molly stood and gave her a hug. “Don’t beat yourself up. From what I’ve heard, he wasn’t pleasant to anyone. He didn’t deserve to die for that, but people can’t live their lives tearing others down and expecting them to feel good about it. You only disliked him because he gave you reasons.”

  Hannah returned the hug. Before letting go, she whispered, “I can’t believe they think Elizabeth could have done it.”

  Molly pulled back and gestured to the work counter. They each took a stool.

  “Do you know Elizabeth well?”

  Hannah nodded. “Sure. She and my aunt Vicky are best friends. After Elizabeth’s husband left her, she often joined us for family events.”

  Was that what Katherine had been referring to earlier? Elizabeth’s husband leaving her? Molly was forming more questions when Hannah continued.

  “My dad and uncle Alan are brothers. They have one other brother and two sisters. Family get-togethers are a pretty lively—sort of a bigger-is-better type of thing.”

  That sounded wonderful to Molly. “Of course. That’s nice that your family included her. Are you close to your aunt and your uncle?”

  A stitch of guilt lodged in Molly’s side. She shouldn’t be questioning a teenager to get the inside scoop on her boss’s marriage. But, if Vernon had been killed by one of them because of an affair, then Molly was off the hook. Selfish much? She didn’t mean to be, but the idea that her pushing had led Vernon to his death made Molly feel like her airway was closing. She wondered how Hannah knew Elizabeth was in for questioning. As a suspect. Maybe she’d overheard a conversation. It didn’t seem like the sort of thing Alan would just outright tell the teenager.

  “I am. With Auntie being sick, she doesn’t join us as much, though. What do you think will happen now? Do you think Clay will come back and work here? I guess a new writer needs to be hired.”

  Alan’s wife was sick? With what? Molly didn’t get a chance to answer—or ask anything— as Hannah’s sentences were one long stream, even when she jumped off her stool.

  “Oh, I forgot, I did a few interviews. I played around with the questions we worked on together and changed some of them to fit who I was interviewing. I spoke with our quarterback, our coach, and our principal about different things.”

  Pleasure knocked the stitch clear. “That’s wonderful, Hannah. What great initiative.”

  Hannah brought a binder over and sat beside Molly again. She flipped it open, showing Molly the interviews. There were ways to deepen the questions to elicit more emotional and thought-provoking answers, but overall, Hannah had a gift for writing. Her style was similar to her personality—approachable, kind, and invested.

  “When do you get out of school?” Molly asked.

  She made a note on one of the pages to look into the long-term winning and losing record of the high school team. Adults were a more likely demographic for the website, but if they wanted to pull younger readers in, Twitter or Instagram were better avenues. Posting updates on the teams was an easy way to get the attention of local teens.

  “Middle of June,” Hannah replied.

  “I’m just thinking out loud here, but you’re right, we’re going to have to hire another writer,” Molly began.

  Possibly two, she thought, but didn’t voice the concern. “What if I talk to your uncle about a paid internship over the summer? You’ve got talent and whether it’s your youth or just intrinsic nature, you have an excitement that transfers to your words.”

  The look of disbelief on Hannah’s face had her wondering if she’d misspoken. Until the teen threw her arms around Molly’s neck and squealed; right in her ear.

  Molly laughed. “I’m a little rusty on my teenager-speak, but I think that’s a yes.”

  Hannah nodded. Molly had returned the hug and was about to drop her arms when she felt the shift in Hannah’s embrace. A very soblike sound was accompanied by shaking shoulders and it took Molly a second to realize the teen was crying.

  Pulling back, brows scrunched, curious if it was just emotion, Molly smiled. “Hey. What’s going on? You okay?”

  Hannah sniffled and muttered “yes,” but clearly it was a lie. She got off the stool and grabbed a Kleenex from Elizabeth’s desk. Leaning her hip against it, she spoke to Molly from there.

  “Dusty—the quarterback?” Hannah gestured to the interviews. “He asked me out. I’ve liked him for the last four years and he finally asked me out.”

  Oh dear. Molly hadn’t been joking about her rustiness with teens. She hadn’t been around them since she was one.

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  Nodding, she wiped her nose, then tossed the Kleenex in the trash bin. “It would be if I was allowed to say yes. My mom says football players can’t be trusted and if I want any kind of future, it’s best I keep my eyes on the prize.”

  Molly’s own eyes widened. Tread lightly. “What’s the prize?”

  A wry smile played on Hannah’s lips. “Anything I want. As long as I don’t get distracted by hormones and boys.”

  Slipping off the stool, Molly measured her words. Part of her was touched that Hannah would open up to her, but she didn’t want to steer the teen in the wrong direction.

  “My mom worried about me hooking up with boys too. The thing is, when you fall for someone, it’s natural to kind of be all about them for a while. The newness and excitement of relationships is invigorating. Maybe your mom is just worried about you getting caught up in that. You’re in your last year of school. All parents want their kids to have the best chance possible, right?”

  Not always. There was a chance that Vernon cared so little about what his son wanted that he’d been killed over it. Wondering if the police had followed up on whether he was in town or not nearly distracted her, but Hannah huffed out a breath, bringing her back to the subject.

  Hannah nodded, but her gloomy eyes suggested she did not agree. Molly remembered her own heartaches when she had to leave a town and all the friends she’d made there. It would be easy to tell Hannah that everything would work out in the end and time would pass faster than she could imagine. But in this moment, the teen could only see the here and now.

  “If it helps, I can keep you busy enough to take your mind off things,” Molly said.

  Hannah laughed. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but sure.”

  “Why don’t you grab us a couple of waters from the fridge and I’ll show you how to do part of the formatting?”

  As easy as flipping a switch, Hannah’s mood changed and she went to grab drinks. Molly used the time to take Tigger out and they all wasted some time playing behind the Bulletin before getting back to work. Or sleep, in Tigger’s case.

  Chapter 12

  If the teen’s phone hadn’t buzzed a few hours later, they probably would have carried on working. Like most teens, Hannah had an ease and comfort level with technology and picked up the photo program Molly showed her with little trouble.

  “Oops, that’s Savannah,” Hannah said, swiping her hand over the phone to answer.

  “Hey. No, I’m pretty much done. Can’t you drop your mom off and then come get me? We’ll go to my house.” The teen turned, lowered her voice. “Sav. We always go to your house
. No. Okay, but come in. I want you to meet Molly. Please. ‘Kay.” She hung up and slid her phone into her pocket.

  Molly stretched, going up on her tiptoes and rolling her neck from one side to the other.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Savannah and I were supposed to hang at my house today. I wanted to tell her about Dusty and…stuff.”

  Molly gave a tight smile. She knew from what she’d overheard they weren’t heading to Hannah’s.

  “Can’t you dish in Savannah’s room?”

  Hannah snorted with laughter. “No. Not so much. Her mom is too busy serving us cookies and milk like we’re still in third grade.”

  Molly didn’t push her for more, but realized she was showing her age when she could understand why both girls’ parents wanted to keep them young. Life had a way of whipping by quicker than the teen could imagine.

  Molly logged off the computer. “I’m going to shut it down too. I didn’t think we were at it for so long. You did great.”

  “Thanks. It was fun.”

  They cleaned up the workstation and Molly was just about to grab Tigger when the front door opened. Savannah Black waved a timid hello as she came in.

  “Hey,” Hannah greeted.

  “Hey.”

  Molly laughed at the quiet exchange between the friends. “Hey,” she added.

  “Sav, this is Molly. This is my best friend, Savannah,” Hannah introduced.

  Savannah was nearly the opposite of Hannah—though every bit as lovely—with dark, short hair that sat just under her ears in a stylish bob. She was short, despite the thick heels she wore, and while Hannah suited both casual and dressy styles, Savannah seemed made for the designer dress she wore.

  “Welcome to Britton Bay,” Savannah said.

  “Thanks,” Molly replied. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what to say to the teen, but meeting her brought all of her concerns back. Was it the interview with this girl’s grandmother that had led to Vernon’s death? She was a strange contrast to the woman Molly had met in the diner. She hadn’t gone through the box yet, but it was time. She’d been sidetracked, but tonight, she’d look through and maybe see what Vernon saw. Though, if he saw anything of consequence, Molly wondered why he’d leave the box in the car. Guilt bubbled up in her chest. Rightfully, the box should be with Savannah’s family or the police. But not before Molly had a chance to look through it.