Charlotte, one of the high school students that helped in the evenings and weekends, practically skipped into the shop to start her shift at 4:00 p.m. Charlotte had the longest white-blonde hair that Molly had ever seen in her life. The young lady often wore it in elaborate braids that wound around her head. Molly hoped that one day she’d braid her own daughter’s hair in such a way, but didn’t have any children yet. Charlotte held state championship records for the sixteen-hundred-meter race, basically a one-mile sprint around the track. Molly guessed that Charlotte was happy to be at the shop because it seemed that she and Ryan, another high school worker, were becoming a bit of an item. Ryan was not in any sports that Molly was aware of, but he was quite the artist. He was a painter, despite being born with only a thumb on his left hand, no fingers at all. It never slowed him down, and Molly usually forgot about this difference.
In general, the evening shifts at the garden center were left to the high schoolers, but one or two evenings a month, Molly or Theo would come in late and stay with them to be sure things ran smoothly. May, Theo, and Molly all took turns on Saturdays if the students couldn’t cover their shifts. The shop was closed on Sundays. Grandma Patty and Grandpa Will had always closed on Sundays and major holidays—and Molly and May had been able to convince Shannon to keep it that way so far.
Molly was in cleanup mode before leaving for the day at four thirty. As she adjusted a display of lilies, she got a text from Archie Wilson.
“Checked into my hotel an hour ago. Want to get on that trail before dinner!”
Besides managing the garden center, Molly contributed feature articles to Gardening Tomorrow, a monthly magazine. Archie was the editor in chief and would be in the area for the weekend because of the local Home and Garden Show. She and Archie had not met in person yet and had agreed to get together while he was in town. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Did he want her to show him the trail? He probably meant the Buckeye Trail, but she didn’t remember ever emailing him about it.
“What’s up?” Theo asked, waving his hand in front of Molly’s face. “You’re frowning, and it’s time for you to jet.”
“I guess I was thinking too hard. Remember how I told you my editor was going to be around this weekend? He’s here, but I don’t know if he wants to meet up yet.”
“Well, do you want to meet up? Isn’t Thursday always Claudia-and-Molly-braid-each-other’s-hair-night, or something else way too girly for a totally manly guy like me to care about?”
“Theo!” Molly laughed, punching him on the arm. “You’re right. Claudia and I are doing our normal drinks-and-desserts night. No hair braiding! So, not a good night to meet Archie.” She absently bent down to pet Sherlock’s head, who readjusted himself so that she could also pet his back and tail.
“So, get outta here,” Theo said. Molly did need to get home to have dinner with her husband, Scott, before meeting Claudia, who had been her best friend since middle school. Molly laughed again and headed to the staff area to collect her bag and jacket. The display was fine as it was, she told herself. Sherlock bounded in front of her, leading the way.
As Molly reached the backroom doorway, a runner slammed the front door open, and doubled over, hands on his knees, breathing hard.
“Dude! Are you okay?” Theo was at the runner’s side before Molly could even turn around.
“I’m. Meeting. The police. Here,” the man announced between labored breaths.
“Police?” Charlotte asked, eyes panicky.
“I think. Someone was hurt. On the trail,” the man said, standing up to his full height. Molly got a bottle of water from the glass-front fridge and hurried over to hand it to the runner.
“Oh, man. What happened?” Theo asked. Charlotte came out from behind the counter, arms crossed.
“Thanks,” the runner said to Molly with a nod and took a swig. “I sprinted here after I called the police. I found a backpack and a walking stick. The stick was snapped in half. The backpack was off the trail, hidden behind a tree. It seemed fishy. But then I got to the bridge over the river.”
The garden center crew all nodded. “We know the bridge,” Theo told him, looking at Molly. All she could see in her mind’s eye was happy, friendly Trevor.
“The wooden guardrail over the bridge? It’s broken.”
“Oh, no!” Charlotte covered her mouth with her hands and Molly got goosebumps. Trevor!
“And the thing is, I ran an out-and-back course today. It wasn’t broken when I ran past it the first time.”
Molly could hear sirens in the distance, and they all cocked their heads. Molly rubbed her arms. A few seconds went by without movement or conversation. The trailhead was just across the garden center’s large parking lot, and it often served as an overflow lot for weekend hikers. It made sense for the police to meet the runner there.
“You should sit down,” Theo announced, and retrieved a stool from behind the counter.
“Thanks,” the runner mumbled, “but I should stretch.” He put his water bottle on the stool and put his hands on his hips to start a squatting quadriceps stretch.
The front door chimed, and they all looked up. Molly was expecting the police, but instead, it was a tall, dark-haired man. He was wearing barely worn but muddy hiking boots and a gray button-up shirt.
“Molly?” he said, looking at her face and then her magnetic name tag. “Hey, it’s Archie. Am I interrupting something? What’s with all the police outside?”