Read Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery Online

Authors: Elaine Flinn

Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery (17 page)

“Good thing. They caught you on tape leaving the Jessop house, running for Lucero’s car. Bastards even ID’d you.”
Molly cringed. “Damn!”
“Worse than that. Someone yapped to the press and told them the three of us, you, me, and Lucero, were close to the line of fire. They also mentioned some of the gossip going around town about you and me having a beef with Jessop.”
Molly nearly screeched. “Who the hell told them?”
“Keep it down, okay? I don’t know, but it’s out, and it could be a big problem now. We talked about it last night, remember? Well, now it’s here.”
“Wait a minute!” Molly’s cup clattered on the saucer. “Maybe Todd Jessop wasn’t the target.”
“Oh? You playing detective again? Stay out of it, okay?”
Molly moved her chair closer to Randall and lowered her voice. “Hold on, hear me out. I’ll buy the trashing of the pickup as vandalism. And the skunk, too. Same kids, probably. But maybe the killer was after you or Lucero, or even Mr. Mattucci? It’s possible, isn’t it?”
Randall thought for a moment. “Anything is possible. Lucero and I both have a laundry list of enemies, and so does Mattucci. Carla’s former father-in-law, for one. But knocking off me or Lucero could take place anywhere. The shooter was after Jessop. It was a clear and clean shot. The angle was wrong for Mattucci in the wheelchair and for Lucero and me. This shooter knew who he was looking for.”
Molly chewed that over. She scooted her chair back an inch or two. “Do you really think Carla might have something to do with this?”
“Like I said, if it were my case, I’d be looking hard at her. But it’s not, and Carla, you, and I are likely in for a nasty ride.”
“Carla, I can understand. But why would we even be considered? Just because we didn’t get along with Jessop isn’t grounds for murder, for God’s sake.”
Randall laughed. “You haven’t learned a thing yet, have you? A motive for murder can damn near be anything, and every cop knows it. Even Reynolds can wrap his head around that.”
“Yes, but he needs solid evidence before he can do anything, right?”
Randall didn’t answer. That made Molly even more nervous. She tore into her second croissant and waited. Bennie appeared with Randall’s sweet rolls, a large carafe of coffee, and a smaller one filled with espresso. He set them on the table. “Shorthanded this morning,” he muttered. “I gotta run. I’ll be back later.”
“Sorry I jumped you, Bennie. We still pals?”
Bennie grinned. “You know we are! Later, okay?”
Molly nodded to Bennie, but her eyes were still fixed on Randall. “Well? The evidence? He’s got to have something solid, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, right. Of course.”
“Are you listening to me? You’ve got that faraway look on your face.”
Randall poured his coffee and picked up one of the sweet rolls. “I’m thinking, that’s all.”
Molly grinned. “I can’t wait. Now what?”
“I just might decide to find the killer myself.”
Molly sat back and folded her arms. “Really? How, pray tell, do you plan to do that when this is out of your hands? You can’t go around interviewing people, and you don’t have access to all the reports.”
“Suffice it to say I have other avenues available.”
“But Lucero can’t tell you a thing, not if Reynolds considers you a suspect.”
“I’m not talking about Lucero. Besides, I wouldn’t think of compromising him.”
Molly’s eyes lit up. “Loomis! You can have Loomis snoop around. Now that he’s got his PI license he can do the legwork, right?”
Randall’s smile was slow and wide. “I always said you were a smart cookie. Loomis is due back tonight. But he’s not the only one I can reach out to.”
“So, where do we start first?”
Randall shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t. And I mean it this time.”
Molly laughed. “Really? Well, just try and stop me. I can’t let you be arrested for murder, you know. Who would I get to move heavy furniture? I’d have to break in a new chief of police.”
 
Molly set an even loftier new record for opening the shop: She was actually ready for business two hours ahead of time. She used the opportunity to make several telephone calls. Her first priority was to call Emma at the ranch. It took a moment for her to come to the phone, and when she did, Molly said, “Everything okay with you?”
“Uh-huh, but do I have to stay very long? I know this is a terrible thing, but honest, Aunt Molly, Michelle isn’t a bit upset. She’s not in shock or crying her eyes out. I don’t think I really need to stay. Besides, there’s a lot of yelling going on between Michelle’s mother and her grandfather. It’s hard to pretend I don’t hear them.”
Emma had already told Molly that Michelle wasn’t crazy about her stepfather, but she’d expected at least some sadness. It was clear, the Mattucci household was not a place of mourning, and she quickly agreed with Emma. “I’ll send Charles over for you. I’ll call Carla and make some sort of excuse, okay? I can’t leave right now. I’ve got fax orders for merch from some out-of-town customers that I need to pack up for shipping. Remember that couple from Fresno? And the lady from Phoenix?”
“Oh, right! The linen press lady and the walnut pedestal desk couple. Ohhh, big sales, huh!”
“About fifty-seven-hundred big. And they want the stuff like yesterday.”
“You don’t have to call Michelle’s mother. I already told her I thought I was coming down with the flu and I was going to call you.”
Molly laughed. “You’re a monster in the making, you know? Lying now, eh?”
“Please? I’ll be good forever after. I promise.”
“Okay, but I wish you would have talked this ever with me first. I could have given some other excuse rather than have you lie.”
“You keep telling me that part of growing up is learning to anticipate problems and be ready with solutions. So, I’m practicing.”
“Point taken. But this isn’t quite what I’d meant. I’ll call Charles now.”
Molly dialed Bitsy’s number. She immediately reassured her she was fine and told her what little she knew. She asked if Charles could pick up Emma. After that, it was mostly a one-sided conversation as Bitsy filled her in on the latest gossip, which was a rehash of the earlier misinformation. She next called Daria, whom she’d awakened, and told her much the same. As it turned out, Lucero had beat her to it last night and had reassured Daria that Molly was fine. Molly then called Emma’s counselor and asked if Charles might pick up Emma’s assignments for the next two days. Molly decided to wait for a few hours before calling Carla.
The flurry of phone calls had at least given her some respite from thinking about her conversation with Randall. But now, with a good hour before any customers might drop in, she knew the best thing she could do was to pay attention to business, to get those shipments arranged and to forget about wondering who wanted to kill Todd Jessop. Those good plans quickly evaporated. The challenge was embedded in her mind. It was difficult to concentrate. She almost faxed the wrong invoices to her out-of-town clients.
And now, Mrs. Brooks, a first-class pain in the ass, was knocking on the door. No doubt, Molly thought, to try to convince me to let her consign her collection of costume jewelry again. This must be the third time. Would the woman never learn? It wasn’t that Molly hadn’t thought about adding jewelry to her inventory. Jewelry was very popular and a lucrative and easy addition to sales. But Molly hadn’t found the right type of locked case to store the baubles, and until she did, it was too risky. Mrs. Brook’s collection, was, unfortunately, merely cheap necklaces, earrings, and brooches from department stores and not of a quality Molly was interested in offering.
Molly forced a pleasant smile onto her face. She wondered how she was going to diplomatically reject the woman again. She braced herself as she opened the door. Before Molly could even say hello, Mrs. Brooks thrust the morning newspaper at her, and said, “Don’t ever expect to see me at your shop again, young lady! You seem to have a penchant for getting mixed up in unsavory events, and I no longer wish to have my collection offered by your store.”
Molly held onto the paper, then stepped back from the angry woman. She flinched when Mrs. Brooks began to shake her finger at her. “And furthermore, our village is not pleased with any of this or you.”
Molly bit her tongue so hard she was afraid she might have inflicted some serious damage. She closed the door in the woman’s face, and locked it. In two angry strides, she was at her desk. She unfolded the paper and stared at the front page. There she was, in all her glory, running to Lucero’s car. The caption above read AGAIN, MOLLY DOYLE? WHAT IS IT ABOUT YOU?
Molly’s face was crimson as she speed-dialed Randall’s private number. When he picked up, she shouted, “Why didn’t you tell me I was on the front page of the
Herald
?”
“I figured you’d see it sooner or later. I didn’t want to be in your line of fire.”
“That’s not funny! How the hell am I going to show my face now? What about the shop? Who’s going to come in now? People are going to think I’m a magnet for murder and not want to be around, just in case!”
“Slow down. I told you this kind of crap was going to begin. But hey, at least they put Jessop and Carla’s photo on there, too.”
“Really? How nice. Call me self-centered, but I didn’t look past mine.”
“Ease off, you’ll have a stroke. Be ready for your phone to ring off the hook if it hasn’t already.”
“It hasn’t, thank God. But I can’t unplug it. I do have a business to run, you know.”
“It will. Trust me. Just leave the recorder on and screen your calls.”
Molly sighed. “I know you’re right, but this is just too damn much.” She told him about Mrs. Brooks. “I wonder if people really are upset with me.”
Randall laughed. “Are you kidding? You’re damn near neck-and-neck with Eastwood on keeping Carmel on the map. Before you know it, they’ll have bus tours driving past the shop and pointing you out. I’d say that would really boost business.”
Molly plopped down on her chair and put both feet on her desk. She didn’t care if anyone going by saw her. “I could hang up on you right now.”
“Do that. I’ve got a full agenda today. I don’t have time for cry-babies.”
Molly finally laughed. “You’re such a charmer.”
“How’s Emma doing out at the ranch?”
“She’s coming home. She’s very uncomfortable with all the yelling that’s going on. Charles is going to pick her up for me.”
“Yelling? I want to know about that. Meet me at Ruby’s around six-thirty for Chinese. Loomis will be with me.”
“Dare I leave the store? I might be accosted.”
“Then call me, and I’ll rescue you.”
Chapter 16
 
RANDALL WAS RIGHT. Just after she got off the phone with him, the calls began. By eleven A.M., Molly had seven messages from reporters wanting to set up interviews. Emma was already home and upstairs working on the homework Charles had picked up from school. Molly put the CLOSED sign in the window early and joined Emma in the kitchen. She wasn’t hungry, but she knew she had to eat something or she’d order way too much later at Ruby’s. Molly’s weakness for Chinese food was almost as bad as her love of Italian food. She poked around in the fridge but found nothing to entice her. She’d already had her calorie quota this morning with the croissants, but her nerves were jangling, and only food or a smoke could relax her. “I’m going back down,” Molly said. “I can’t find anything alluring.”
“I had a huge breakfast at the ranch. Mr. Mattucci’s cook, the one who doesn’t speak? He fixed Michelle and me pancakes, eggs, bacon, and biscuits with country gravy. Ummm, so good.”
Molly laughed. “And you’re already hungry?”
Emma lathered what looked like an inch of mayonnaise on two slices of bread, then began adding sliced tomato, avocado, and lettuce. “I’m a growing girl.”
“Okay, growing girl, I’ve got a request. Since you’re already into adult wiles, would you mind telling Randall tonight what you heard at the ranch? About all the yelling? It might be important. We’re meeting him and Loomis at Ruby’s for dinner.”

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