Molly had to turn all alerts connected to The Bulletin off on her phone by noon the next day. Chewing the end of a pen, she walked to the window and looked out at the rain. It was coming down hard, drenching the streets and making the world, in general, gloomy.
The mood in the office wasn’t much better and Molly didn’t know how to help anyone. Jill had run the online story first thing this morning. The white cloth beneath Magnolia’s head had been a monogrammed handkerchief. Judd had been holding one just like it when Molly saw him at the theater. Her stomach twisted with the memory.
In addition to that, texts between Magnolia and Judd had given the police all of the evidence they apparently needed to make an arrest. In a regular situation, the town would be thrilled to see a murder investigation wrapped up so quickly. If Molly were truly on the outside looking in, she’d be commending the Britton Bay Police Department for their quick and diligent work.
“I’m going to head down to Bella’s,” Jill said behind Molly.
Molly turned, lowering the pen. “In this rain?”
Jill’s typically happy eyes were red-rimmed. “I’m hungry and need a break.”
“You can go home,” Molly said, crossing the room to her friend.
Jill shrugged. Molly pulled her in for a hug and held on tight. The community as a whole was shocked by Judd Brown’s arrest. Shocked and outraged. Hence, muting the alerts.
“Go home, Jill. We’re fine here,” Molly whispered.
“I’m sorry.” Jill stepped away and sniffled.
“Don’t be sorry. He matters to you.”
Jill pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and worried it for a moment before letting out a watery laugh. “When we were in ninth grade, my friend and I found a little family of possums at the back of the field. A few of the boys were being jerks and trying to scare them. I ran into Judd in the hallway on the way to class. I was upset and he asked what was wrong. That afternoon, when school let out, he got me and my friend to show him where they were. He brought a box and coaxed them in, took them to the animal shelter in the next town.”
Molly’s heart ached for Jill. And for Sam, who’d been equally shocked and saddened to read the news.
“I don’t know what to say. Sometimes we think we know a person, but maybe we never really do. Not all the way through.” She’d seen enough in the last six months to know that even ‘good’ people had a snapping point. “Go home. Work on the photos for the barrel challenge. The voting starts next week. But only if you’re up to it.”
Jill nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
Molly gave her another hug and went to make some coffee once she left. Elizabeth was working on the online voting pages for the contest next week. People would be able to browse through the photographs and summaries of the barrels and cast their votes. Alan had stayed home with his wife. Gavin was set to come in that afternoon, so Molly would be on her own for a while. Hannah was also set to come in after school.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Molly wished she’d brought Tigger for company today. As the weather got better, she’d start doing it more. Once her coffee was ready, she wandered back through the opening that separated the staffroom, kitchen, and storage area of the building from the front.
On her way into her office, she glanced out the window again, just in time to see someone come through the door. It wasn’t completely uncommon, having people stop by to say hello, place an ad, or share a story. But Molly didn’t recognize the woman closing her umbrella and shaking off the water. Her long, bold, red nails blazed against the dark, damp material.
Dressed in a long black trench coat and heels that would land Molly on her face in seconds, the woman straightened, tossing her very blond hair behind her shoulder.
“Hi,” she said, stepping forward, almost cautiously, like she wasn’t sure she was in the right place. Despite the near-monsoon happening outside, the woman’s makeup was flawless. Smokey shadow highlighted her brown eyes, and whether it was contouring or good genes, she had a striking jaw line.
“Hi.” Molly stepped forward, her coffee in one hand, her other ready to introduce herself.
“I’m Vivien Sweet.”
Walking closer, Molly reached out to shake her hand. “I’m Molly Owens.” She schooled her features and did her best to stop the questions racing through her mind. “You’re Magnolia’s daughter?”
Vivien nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” Molly said. Regardless of the rumors she’d heard about Magnolia not being close to her children, it had to be awful to lose a parent.
“Thank you. My brother Jeffrey was supposed to meet me here but I think he’s running behind,” Vivien said, looking around the space, her eyes stopping on the multiple framed newspapers that lined the wall.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Molly set her coffee down on Elizabeth’s desk.
Setting her closed umbrella down in one of the chairs, Vivien opened her large black handbag and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Molly.
“We’d like to run a full-page ad for my mother. There are details regarding the funeral and paying respects. Despite the fact that she wasn’t well liked, the vultures will want to know.”
Molly grimaced. Vivien wasn’t wrong. If anything, there’d be more interest in her mother’s death because of the controversy around it. People were filling The Bulletin’s feed with stories they remembered of Magnolia’s time in Britton Bay, along with things about Judd.
Molly accepted the envelope. “If the funeral is before next Thursday, we can run it online, but our next edition isn’t until then.”
“It’s next Saturday,” Vivien said. She closed her handbag and picked up her umbrella. “The play opens the next night so the timing works well.”
Molly didn’t quite understand what that meant, but was surprised to hear the play was still happening. “They’re going forward with it?”
Standing straighter and tipping her chin up just a little, she gave a smile that made Molly think of Magnolia. “Of course. My mother would be horrified if they didn’t. Haven’t you heard? The show must go on.”
Okay, sure, Molly thought, if a cast member quits or gets sick or even breaks a literal leg. But surely not when the director is murdered? On set?
“It’s what she would have wanted,” Vivien said quietly, obviously reading Molly’s face.
“Then I’m glad they’re doing it.” She didn’t have to know or like the woman to feel sadness over the way her life ended. The quiet that settled between them threw Molly off. What was there to say? “Uh, the set looked amazing.”
Vivien arched both brows. “I’m sure it did.”
“You haven’t seen it?” Molly wanted to smack herself. What was wrong with her? Of course, the woman hadn’t seen it. Why would she go to the place her mother was murdered? Though Molly wasn’t sure she’d be able to stay away if something happened to her own mom. She’d need to know every piece of information she could.
The daughter’s laugh was somewhat chilling. “We just arrived last night. Even if we hadn’t, my brother and I stopped going to anything my mother directed or produced before the opening over twenty years ago. She claimed we were bad luck.”
The small gasp escaped her lungs before she could stop it. “I’m sorry.” Making a mental note to call her mother and thank her for being a wonderful human being, Molly pasted a tight smile on her face. “Is there anything else I can do?”
Vivien looked like she wanted to say something—her mouth opening, then closing—but only shook her head.
“Well, let me know if there is.” Molly tucked her hands in the pockets of her jeans.
“Thank you.”
Vivien turned on her heels and left. Molly watched her through the picture window. She hadn’t noticed the long, sleek, black limo parked outside. A driver held the door open and she slid in. Glancing down at the envelope, Molly picked up her coffee and took both items to her office.
The obituary that Vivien had given Molly was long and detailed, highlighting her mother’s great triumphs and successes. Everything in it focused on her career and said nothing about her being missed or whom she’d left behind. Molly couldn’t believe her eyes when she read the last line:
Whether you cared for our mother or not, we encourage you to come together as a community—one she was happy to be a part of—and show your kindness by attending the play she poured her heart, soul, and last days into.
It was unlike any announcement Molly had ever read. It didn’t mention Jeffrey or Vivien or anything about Magnolia as a person. Only as an actress. Maybe that’s all she was, even to them. Molly felt guilty for the thought, but the evidence of it was in her hand.
She worked through the afternoon, pleased to hear the bell over the door signal company. Laughter flitted into her office, letting her know Hannah had come in with someone. Getting up, Molly stretched and pulled in a deep breath. She’d been hunched over her laptop for hours.
A smile was already on her face, and it grew when she saw Bella with a take-out box, chatting with Hannah. At almost eighteen, Hannah was both a typical all-American girl with her long blond hair pulled up into one of those ballet buns, and a young woman on the cusp of adulthood. Bella was a couple of inches shorter than the senior and at least ten years older, but had her brown hair pulled up in a similar fashion. Molly had given it a try once, but she’d looked like she’d attached a dust rag to her head.
“Hey, two of my favorite people,” Molly said, joining them. “What’s that?”
Bella laughed and handed over the pale pink box. “Gloomy day reinforcements in the form of a new recipe I tried.”
Molly opened the box and looked at the delicious looking tartlets. She grinned at her friend and pulled some out, offering one to Hannah, who accepted, and Bella, who passed. Setting down the box, she removed the dessert from its tin casing and checked it out.
“It’s graham cracker, peanut butter, and chocolate ganache. I haven’t named it yet,” Bella said, her voice low and, if Molly was guessing right, a little nervous.
Molly and Hannah both took a bite. Molly closed her eyes and sighed around the delicious blend of peanut butter, chocolate, and the little crunch of crust. Hannah made a loud “mmm” sound.
Molly opened her eyes and pinned them on Bella. Before she took another bite, she suggested, “How about Heaven? Pure Deliciousness? Peanut Butter Perfection?”
Bella laughed.
“Oh my gosh, this is wicked good, Bella,” Hannah said, taking another huge bite that almost finished it off.
“Yay. I’m so glad you guys like it.”
“Love. Love it,” Molly corrected, finishing hers. “What inspired you?”
Bella’s smile faded and she made herself busy, closing the top of the box and straightening it on the desk. “Oh, just not sleeping. You know how it is.”
Molly and Hannah exchanged a glance. They knew how it was for Bella dating Callan, who didn’t always treat her the way she deserved.
Stepping back and pasting a bright smile on her face, Bella clapped her hands together. “I need to get going. Hey, we should do another girls’ night at Sarah’s.”
Sarah held art classes and art evenings at her small studio. Bella, Hannah, Molly, and several other friends, including Sam’s mom, had gotten together to try their hands at painting. Molly was better at typing, but it had been fun.
“I’d love to do that,” Hannah said.
Bella poked her in the shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be hanging out with kids your age rather than old ladies like us?”
Molly laughed, debating whether or not to have another tartlet. “Ouch.”
“You guys are way more fun than high school girls. Besides, I really like Naomi,” Hannah said, referring to Sarah’s assistant. “Oh, speaking of which, I meant to text you.” She looked at Molly.
“About?”
“Naomi went back to the shelter the other day to say hi to a couple friends she’d made there. She’s pretty sure she saw Corky walking along the side of the road.”
“Oh,” Molly said, digesting the information. The homeless population in the small coastal town was higher than it should have been. It was a problem the town acknowledged but didn’t know quite how to deal with. Several of the displaced people had opted against getting the help they needed, whether it was a place to stay or something more.
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll see if I can follow up on that somehow,” Molly said.
“Poor guy. I hope he’s okay,” Bella said as Gavin swept into the building, holding a black backpack over his head and hunched shoulders.
He lowered it and smiled at all three women. “Hey there. It’s miserable out.”
Molly was about to reply when she saw Bella’s eyes widen and rake over Gavin in a very appreciative way. Biting back her grin, Molly stepped forward, holding a hand out to welcome him.
“Thanks for braving it. Come on in. Ladies, this is Gavin Bright. He’s a freelance writer who is going to work with us. Gavin, this is Bella, owner of Morning Muffins, the bakery a few doors down. And this is Hannah Benedict, our social media guru and writer.”
Gavin shook their hands. Maybe it was Molly’s romantic imagination, but she thought he held Bella’s a few seconds longer as they locked gazes.
Bella pulled back, smiling very widely and looking around like she’d forgotten something. “Well, okay. I should, go. I should get going.”
Molly stifled her laugh. “See you later.”
She turned then turned back and waved. “Nice to meet you.”
Gavin gave a little wave, wiping some damp dark hair off his forehead. “You, too, Bella.”
Despite being a teenager, Hannah schooled her features better than Molly and just grinned behind Gavin’s back, giving a less than subtle nod. “Guess I’ll get to work.”
“And I’ll get you settled, Gavin. Let me show you around.”
As Molly walked him through the office, she wondered how things could feel both so hopeful and so desolate. New beginnings on the heels of sad endings. Life was such a double-edged sword and sometimes that was hard to truly wrap her head around. It made her want to grab onto the good and hang on tight. Which was exactly what she planned to do when she headed home to Sam that night.