“What are you doing in here?” Jill asked, looking at Tripp.
Tiffany started to cry, pointing at Molly. “I told her to stop. This isn’t my fault. Please don’t hurt Vivien. She has nothing to do with any of this.”
Molly’s eyes flew to Tiffany and then back to Tripp. He pulled something from his back pocket. Her heart dropped to her stomach when he unfolded the knife and the metal glittered.
“Shut up. Just shut up so I can think. All of you, get into the room. Purses and phones on the dresser. Now! Sit on the bed. One of you makes a wrong move and I swear to everything holy I will make you regret it.”
Shuffling with the other two, they moved to the unmade bed, all of them trying not to take their eyes off of Judd’s cousin.
“Sit down. Now. Hands behind your backs.” Wielding the knife in front of them as they sat leaning against each other awkwardly, he reached behind him again and pulled out something red. It took Molly a second to recognize it for what it was, but as he unwound the velvet cloth it became sickeningly clear. The other rope for the stage curtains.
“Good thing I carry everything I might need on my cart,” he said with a nasty smile.
He stepped toward them, the blade of the knife coming only inches from Molly’s face. Jill gripped her hand and Tiffany’s sobs increased.
“Shut up. I’m going to tie you three together, but if you don’t shut up, I’ll make you.”
Jill squeezed Molly’s hand. Her ribs screamed in pain from the way she was sitting. She couldn’t fight back even if he put the knife down. Tiffany was useless, and the thought of Jill getting hurt made bile rise in her throat.
They sat still while he pocketed the knife and wrapped the rope around their upper bodies, the three of them squished together, trapping their arms by their sides. The increased pressure around her made Molly wince in pain. She couldn’t breathe.
“Stop crying!” Tripp shouted.
“There’s no reason to do this, Tripp,” Molly said. Reasoning with a madman had absolutely never worked for her in the past.
He laughed, a deep, throaty, haunting chuckle. “Wouldn’t have been if you’d taken a hint and backed off.”
Molly’s head swam. “You asked me to look into who murdered Magnolia.”
Tripp waved the knife in front of them and then his hand shot out, gripping a chunk of Molly’s hair. His breath and the scent of his soap clogged her senses. She let out a sharp cry.
“I pointed you in the other direction. I figured you’d come up with nothing and Judd would go to prison like he damn well deserves.”
With her shoulders scrunched to try to alleviate the pull of his fingers, Molly fought back tears. “For what? What did he do? He didn’t kill Magnolia.”
Tripp’s hand dropped and he paced in front of them, the knife firmly in his grip. “Nope. He didn’t. Instead, he just let her take off with all of our money.” He stalked back to them, leaning down as Tiffany’s whimpers quieted. “I spend my life cleaning up after other people, and even then I can’t get a full-time gig doing it. I live in my cousin’s dingy basement, living paycheck to paycheck. We had plans. I had plans. Then he cashes them in for a pretty smile from some Hollywood wench who used him? He gave her our money. He had no goddamn right.”
Molly couldn’t wade through the words, but keeping him talking felt essential. They couldn’t just sit there and let him do whatever he was going to do. They had to at least try. But there was no way to communicate that to Jill.
Tripp stood straight. “This was my chance. They both got payback and now, once again, women are screwing up my life.”
Molly squeezed Jill’s hand in an attempt to alert her that she was going to at least try to fight back. Jill’s grip turned into a death lock making it clear she was not on board with that plan. Panic and guilt thrashed inside of Molly’s rib cage along with pain. She’d dragged Jill into this.
“We can undo this. Tiffany warned me to stay away. I should have listened. We’ll walk away. You can leave town. They suspect Tiffany anyway,” Molly said, which sent Tiffany into another symphony of tears.
Tripp shoved a hand into his hair, his knuckles turning white with his grip. “If. You. Don’t. Stop. Crying. I’m going to go from here to your girlfriend’s house and kill her. Do you understand me?”
Girlfriend? Vivien. Suddenly, it became clear whom Tiffany was protecting. She was protecting the woman she loved from what they were facing right this minute.
“Vivien?” Molly said.
“Stay away from her or I’ll tell everyone it was you who killed Magnolia,” Tiffany yelled, finding her voice.
Tripp lowered his hand and let out a mean laugh. “Yeah? Who you gonna tell when you’re dead?”
“You can’t kill all three of us and just walk out of here,” Jill said, her voice utterly calm.
Tripp’s breath hitched, becoming uneven. “You’re right,” he said quietly, crouching so he was looking at Molly and Jill. Tiffany was facing the headboard, her back to them.
Molly’s feet hung off the edge of the bed, as did Jill’s. If he came a little closer, maybe she could connect with his face.
Tripp smiled, freezing Molly’s insides. “I can’t kill all three of you and get away with it. But I could kill two of you and make it seem like Hollywood did it. She’ll take the fall for you two, and Judd will take the fall for Magnolia.”
A genuine, almost warm smile spread over his craggy face, as if this plan pleased him greatly.
It was literally now or never. Molly swung her foot up, barely grazing Tripp’s chin and sending shots of agony spiralling from her ribs. He leaned back, rubbing his face and knocking himself off balance, landing on his butt. Jill and Molly moved at the same time, dragging Tiffany up with them so they were a tangled mess, half standing, half sitting as Tripp started to laugh.
Righting himself as they scurried all the way off the bed, all but dragging Tiffany and shoving themselves into the corner by the nightstand, he continued to laugh.
“Guess we know who I’m starting with,” Tripp growled, raising the knife.
A thunderous crash sounded. Tiffany screamed as Tripp turned his head to see the commotion and men swarmed the room.
“Freeze,” Chris shouted, gun drawn and pointed directly at Tripp. “Drop the knife now or I will shoot you.”
Tripp glanced back at the three women who were wiggling the rope up and off their bodies, the fibers scratching their skin raw.
“No,” Tripp said, already lowering the knife to the ground, one hand up. “This isn’t what it looks like. I swear. I was just about to call the police.”
When the knife touched the ground, Chris stepped forward, kicked it away, and lowered his gun. His deputies kept theirs trained on Tripp as Chris grabbed the man’s arms and roughly turned him, pulling his hands behind his back.
“Is that so. And what, exactly, were you going to say?” Chris cuffed him, then patted him down.
“Tiffany killed Magnolia. She was going to kill these two but she’d convinced them I did it, so I had to tie them up until I could tell you guys the truth,” Tripp said, grunting when Chris turned him around roughly.
“Wills,” Chris said to one of the deputies. “Cuff Tiffany as well and read her her rights.” He gestured to another deputy. “José, get Molly and Jill to the hospital. Take their statements there.” He looked back to Tripp. “Tripp Simmons, you’re under arrest for the murder of Magnolia Sweet.”
He continued as Wills did the same to Tiffany. José, a deputy Molly didn’t know, ushered them out of the room.
It wasn’t until they were in the elevator that she made eye contact with Jill and noticed her friend had tears streaming down her face.
Molly’s stomach caved in on itself and in that moment, she swore she’d never do anything to endanger anyone she loved again. Disregarding the throbbing in her body, she threw her arms around Jill.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
Jill said nothing and Molly wondered if it was too late to even hope that Jill, or Sam and his mother, would ever forgive her for getting them into this mess.