City Hall was an impressive brick and cement building with mountain-high doors and a gorgeous clock in the center of the peaked roof. It was around the block from the police station and surrounded by what Molly would have termed the “business district.” Instead of quaint shops and yummy eateries, the buildings in this area had a more specific function. City Hall, the police department, the school board office, and the fire hall were all clustered close together. Molly often thought The Bulletin would be better suited to this area, but Alan’s grandfather had purchased their building before Main Street had become what it was today.
The parking lot was nearly full by the time Jill and Molly, who’d driven together in Jill’s car, arrived. People wanted to know who their mayoral candidates were and what promises they had in store for the town. But those who’d been hoping for Brandon Saron to be their mayor were going to be sorely disappointed.
Molly waved to several people—local business owners, friends, and people she knew in passing. She and Jill weaved through the crowd toward the steps that led up to the entrance.
“Any thoughts on who the potentials will be?” Jill asked.
Molly held the camera close to her chest and shook her head. None she could share. “Nope. I think there’s probably a lot of long-time business owners who could step up.”
They’d just about reached the door when Molly saw something from the corner of her eye. Was that…?
“I’ll be right back. Can you take this for me?” She lifted the camera off of her neck and passed it to Jill.
Jill’s puzzled expression didn’t stop her from taking the camera and slipping the strap over her own neck. “Sure. You okay?”
Stopping in the path forced people to move around them. Molly apologized, already trying to move against the human tide. “Yeah. Take pictures if I can’t get back in, okay?”
Jill waved and went into the building while Molly muttered “excuse me” and “sorry” a dozen times as she went back down the stairs.
She went to the left of the building, which was lined with trees and a cobblestone path that Molly knew led to a little garden with a small pond. Corky was walking quickly, like a man on a mission, his head down. His shoulders were hunched. She called his name, and saw him shake his head and keep walking.
“Corky? It’s Molly,” she called again.
He stopped. He didn’t turn around, but he waited for her to approach. She could see from the way his shoulders shifted back and forth that he was rubbing his hands together. He did it when he was nervous. Corky Templeton was an enigma. At times, he seemed entirely in his own world. He was loved and cared for by the town, but he was very selective with what he’d accept help for. He wouldn’t stay with anyone who offered him a home, but he frequented Calli’s and Bella’s for food. He wouldn’t take money, but he always accepted coffee. No one knew if he had any family in the area—or at all.
Molly approached, her footfalls gentle, and came up around him, giving him a wide berth as sometimes he startled easily.
“Hi Corky.”
His worn and torn canvas jacket fit loose on his shoulders. Molly wondered if he’d lost weight. His graying hair was matted and thick, but his brown eyes were cognizant and friendly.
“Hi Molly.”
She smiled at him as she put her hands in her pockets. “Were you just checking out who is running for mayor?”
He nodded, glancing left and right before focusing on her again. He’d been a little harder to have a conversation with since he’d found the body of a celebrity chef at the end of summer.
“Sheriff Saron is a good man. He’s a nice man. Sam, too. Your Sam is a nice man.”
“They are, you’re right.” She slid a little closer, keeping her body as still as possible. Unsure how he’d respond, she went with her hunch. “Do you like kittens, Corky?”
His lips burst into a wide smile. Despite living on the street, he usually kept up a decent appearance, including having all of his teeth. Molly knew the homeless situation in Britton Bay and the surrounding area was an uphill struggle, and in comparison, Corky fared better than many.
“They’re so soft. They love me,” Corky said.
Molly moved a little closer, hands still in her pockets. “Of course they do.”
His eyes widened and he leaned into her. “How’s Tigger?”
When Molly had found her pup, he’d been homeless, like Corky. “He’s getting so big. You can come visit him at the bed and breakfast.”
Corky shook his head vehemently. “No. Nope. No, thank you. I need to go now.”
“Corky, everyone is worried about you. Calli and Bella have missed you. Where are you staying?”
Corky started fidgeting with his hands and looking around. “Calli and Bella are nice.”
“They are. Do you want to say hi to them? Calli would love to see you.”
“No, thank you. I have to go.”
“Can I give you a ride somewhere?” Like maybe a place with an overload of kittens?
“No. I like to walk. I have to go now. Bye, Molly.”
She didn’t want to upset him or push him, but she definitely planned on following up her theory. As soon as she found out who else was planning on trying to be mayor of their little town.
* * * *
While Jill took the camera and the pictures of their three mayoral hopefuls back to The Bulletin, Molly caught up with Sam, who’d ended up coming separately from his mom. That worked out well for Molly. Walking hand in hand toward his truck, she wondered if Corky was currently making the long trek back to the Granger farm. If she was right about that, he probably was.
“You might not know the candidates well, still being new, but they’re all top notch,” Sam said when they got in his truck.
“Do you have a favorite?” Molly asked.
He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, ruffling it. “I’m glad Beau told us the truth yesterday. I’d be feeling a lot more skeptical about him if he hadn’t. But Tanya Blair has been the bank manager for the last five years and cares very much about the town. Same with Stan Reynolds. He was only thirty when he started his law firm here and he works really hard to be active in the community.”
“You sound like you could campaign for any one of them,” Molly said, fastening her seatbelt.
Sam chuckled and started the truck. “I think, no matter what, we’ll be in good shape. And honestly? I’m glad Brandon is going back to being sheriff. Chris is doing a great job, but I think there’s a lot of perspective that comes with age.”
He pulled into the line of cars waiting to get out of the crowded lot.
“That means I’ll be even smarter in a few years,” Molly teased.
“I think I should be scared,” Sam joked. “Want me to drop you at The Bulletin?”
Biting her lip, wondering if she was completely off base, Molly tapped her fingers against her leg. “Actually, can we take a trip out to the Granger farm?”
Looking over at her, Sam just stared, waiting for the reason.
“I saw Corky.”
He looked around like she meant right this second. “Where?”
“Before I went inside. This might sound crazy but I think he’s sleeping at the Granger farm.”
“What? Why? That’s quite a way from Main Street where he usually hangs out.”
Molly nodded as Sam moved forward and pulled out of the lot, onto the street. “It is. Which would account for him not coming by as frequently. I saw makeshift bedding when I was looking for kittens in John’s barn, and today Corky had cat hair all over his jacket.”
“That would explain why there’s evidence of someone being there but no actual vandalism. Maybe we should just phone John. Let him know what you think.”
“Does Corky know John?”
Sam shrugged. “Everyone knows Corky.”
“True. But he’s so jumpy. More so since he found Skyler’s body,” Molly said, referring to the celebrity chef. “Even today, with me, he was wary. If John doesn’t know him other than in passing, it might freak Corky out.”
“Okay. So, what are you thinking?” Sam took the turn to head out of town, toward the farm.
“I texted Calli and asked her to meet us there. She’s closest to him. Her and Bella. I’m thinking that if she’s there, he’ll spook less easily.”
Sam reached over the console and took her hand. “If he is staying there, I’m not sure how John is going to feel about that.”
“I know. Which is why I’m hoping Calli can convince him to go to the shelter.”
Part of her hoped—expected, even—to see Corky walking the long stretch of road that they took to the farm. But in all likelihood, if she was right about her hunch, he wouldn’t take the narrow, two-lane street. He’d weave in and out of the paths, forests, and farms. The walk would be shorter that way.
Calli was talking to John when they pulled up to the farmhouse, a gorgeous two-story home. Painted a deep forest green, it had black shutters on each window and beautiful window boxes on the lower ones. Flowers bloomed brightly from each of the three boxes. On the porch, a white swing swayed in the breeze.
John, looking even taller with the addition of a cowboy hat today, was nodding at whatever Calli was saying. She was dressed in her usual jeans and a t-shirt, her hair up in a messy bun. She carried a paper bag that Molly suspected was full of food.
They got out of the car and joined the other two.
“Molly, Sam. Calli here tells me you think I’ve got a stowaway,” John said. He actually tipped his hat their way, making Molly smile.
Sam hooked his thumb in Molly’s direction. “Molly ran into Corky today.”
Calli’s smile slipped. “How did he look?”
“Nervous. A little thin. But happy. And covered in cat hair,” Molly said.
“If he’s staying in that particular barn, it’s dangerous. It’s basically our storage unit that I haven’t gotten around to organizing. Only time I’m in there is to feed the cats and toss more stuff in.”
“Which would make it easy for him to stay under the radar,” Sam said.
“Let’s go check it out.” John led the way to the barn. When they neared it, the puppies spotted them and came barrelling forward. They must have been playing somewhere, but now that they’d spotted people, their huge paws couldn’t carry them fast enough. All of them stopped to pay some attention and Molly couldn’t hold back the laughter when one of them nibbled on her hair.
“You sure you don’t want one?” John asked.
She smiled up at him from her crouch. “We talked about it, but we just don’t have the room.”
“I want one but we spend so much time at the restaurant,” Calli said, rubbing the smallest one’s belly with one hand and holding the bag of food up with the other.
They continued on their way. The farm was quite expansive, and walking from the main house took them a few minutes. They stopped outside of it and hesitated, as if by silent agreement.
“We don’t want to scare him,” Calli said.
“He might not even be here yet,” Sam said.
“But if he’s been staying here, I should be able to tell now that you’ve said something,” John added.
The door was open a crack. John pulled it open further, slowly, the door bumping over the gravel underneath. Cats immediately moved around, meowing and approaching them.
“This here is one of the mamas,” John said, picking up a brown and orange cat who curled around his legs.
“She’s gorgeous,” Calli said. “Maybe Dean and I should get a kitten.”
John’s laugh filled the dimly lit barn. “I happen to have a few if you’re serious.”
Probably smelling the food, three kittens wandered to Calli and rubbed themselves against her jeans. “Hello, you cute little things.”
Sam was smiling when he looked over at Molly. She pointed to the far corner. Calli noticed and gave a curt nod, starting in that direction.
“Careful you don’t trip,” John said quietly.
She nodded again, watching her step as she moved around saddles, old car parts, the front of a tractor, and several other obstacles. Much like Molly had the day she’d been here. Several cats followed her, some of them jumping up on various things, almost like they wanted to lead the way.
It was hard to see her once she got deeper into the barn, but they all heard the slight gasp.
It was followed by her voice. “Hi, Corky. How you doing? I brought you some food.”