On Monday morning, the first thing Molly did was deposit Shannon’s earring in the empty slot of the money drawer in the cash register. She wrote a sticky note about its location and stuck it next to the register, out of the view of customers. After that, she had to dig into her self-control reserves to stop herself from opening the box of keys until May got to the shop.
At the baseball game on Saturday, May had made Molly promise in whispers that she wouldn’t open the mysterious box until May arrived. The fog that had covered Sunday afternoon followed her to Monday morning: Trevor’s confirmed death made everything feel harder. Sherlock’s warm and furry kitty greeting was welcoming as well as a physical reminder to get to work.
Molly busied herself tidying the shop floor for the first twenty minutes. She did a sloppy inventory for what she’d need for the next Farmer’s Market and broke down and ordered a dozen tomato plants that would arrive Thursday. She decided that she’d probably just pot succulents again on Friday morning before the market. Molly split up a few succulent cuttings that would be ready in a few weeks. She shifted around some pots of hibiscus in the backyard. Molly was downright antsy and couldn’t seem to settle on a single task.
Upon Theo’s arrival, he called out his normal “Good morning” as the bell on the door chimed and the door closed behind him. Molly knew he hung his hoodie on the coat rack in the backroom without looking. She jogged wordlessly from the greenhouse area where she was dead-heading petunias to the staff area and caught sight of him turning away from the coat rack on the wooden panels.
They made eye contact, and he simply said, “I heard about Trevor.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t text you.” Molly looked at the floor.
“I could have texted you too. It’s just … really hard news. Felt like we needed to be together to talk about it.”
“It seemed too big to text,” Molly agreed.
“He seemed like such a solid guy, funny, knew what he wanted to do.” Molly nodded, frowning, near tears. Theo continued, “Hopefully, we can do something nice for his parents or something. Send some enormous living flower arrangement for the funeral.”
“You’re right.” Molly smiled at her friend. “We can always make things feel a little better with flowers, for sure.”
“So, ah, how long have you been here?” Theo asked, changing the subject dramatically, and held up a white envelope. “There was an envelope taped to the door with your name on it. Was it there when you got here?”
“Well, that’s unusual. No. It definitely wasn’t there earlier,” Molly said, taking the envelope. She turned it over in her hands, studying the folded paper. “No return address, no stamp. Just my name, and not even my last name.”
“Maybe a sales flyer?”
“Addressed right to me? Only my first name typed out?” Molly asked.
“Well, open it. Let’s see what it is.”
“What if it’s anthrax or something?” Molly asked, thinking of the white spores sent through the mail that killed five people in 2001 shortly after the September 11 bombings.
“The Post Office delivered that. This definitely was personally delivered. It had that blue painter’s tape on it,” Theo countered.
“Which is even weirder,” Molly said. Theo folded his arms and gave her a look that she’d seen May give to Noah when he was being ridiculous. Apparently, Theo had been paying attention.
“Okay, okay,” she conceded. Molly used her thumbnail to tear the envelope open across the top and removed the contents.
“A single piece of paper, also typed, no signature,” Molly narrated. “And, um, oh my.” Her voice suddenly became much more high-pitched than she had recalled it being any time in the recent past.
“What? What is it?” Theo took a step to stand next to her and read over Molly’s shoulder as she kept reading aloud.
“Addressed to me, Molly. ‘Stop playing detective and poking around in business that is not your own. Leave Trevor alone. Don’t regret your actions.’’’ She paused, letting the words sink in. Theo seemed to do the same. When she spoke again, her voice wasn’t shaking as much as she expected. “It rhymes and is quite threatening in just three lines.” Molly heard herself say the words. They felt so much calmer than she felt.
“Yeah, yeah. Whoa. ‘Don’t regret your actions?’ I mean, what does that even mean? What’s this person going to do to make you regret your actions?” Theo asked, panic in his voice. Then he added, “Real creepy.”
“Super creepy.” Molly turned to look at Theo, panic still not touching her own voice, but her heart rate was rising. “You didn’t see anyone when you got here? No one was leaving the parking lot or anything?”
“No one,” he confirmed, shaking his head.
Sherlock hopped up onto the stainless steel worktable, making them both jump. Neither had noticed the feline enter the room.
“Oh, Sherlock,” Molly said, stroking the black-and-white cat, who instantly started purring and basked in the affection. She rubbed her face against his soft fur. “You always seem to know when something is wrong.” Her heart rate dropped a bit with the kitty to cuddle.
“This is really wrong. I think we should call the police again,” Theo said with Claudia-like decisiveness.
“But is that leaving Trevor alone? Will the person who wrote this know? I don’t want to do something that will make them do something worse than a note,” Molly said, her mind reeling.
“Molly, the person who left you this letter is probably the person who killed Trevor!” Theo said, his voice rising uncharacteristically. He pointed his finger for emphasis. “There could be fingerprints or other clues. We need to hand it over to the detectives. They could find Trevor with this.”
“Okay. Yeah, you're probably right,” she said, both heart rate and breathing quickening again. “I’m freaking out that the killer is reaching out to me, directly to me.” Sherlock continued to rub against her hand when she stopped stroking his ears.
“You must be getting close. He doesn’t like that you’re digging around.”
“He?” She paused. “You’re right. I think it’s probably a guy. I didn’t tell you, but Claudia and I went to the bridge to get a look for ourselves yesterday morning.” Theo acted surprised but then seemed to expect the early morning excursion. She described the blood they’d found on the damaged parts of the bridge and that they’d seen Brooks there so early in the morning. Her storytelling helped her blood pressure go down, but her worry increased. “So I think it’s a guy. Trevor was tall and would probably be difficult to throw around. I really think that the higher blood stains were probably where his head contacted the bridge supports. Ugh. So disturbing to think about.” Theo nodded and screwed up his face. “So, like you said, he doesn’t like that I’m digging around.”
“And you need to tell the police about it.” Theo pretended to finish her thought.
“But how did he know I was digging around?” Molly didn’t respond to Theo’s prodding. “Claudia and I didn’t tell very many people we were going to the bridge yesterday. We didn’t see anyone but Brooks there.”
“So Brooks sent the note?” Theo asked. “That seems really unlikely. He’s the one that found the broken bridge, called the police, and sprinted here as fast as he could to meet them. He’s just as bothered and invested in this stuff with Trevor as we are.”
“Right. That’s exactly what Claudia and I thought.”
“So someone else saw you? Did you park the van right outside the trailhead or something?” he asked.
“No, Claudia thought of that. I drove Scott’s car, and we both parked at the hiking shop.”
“So maybe Brooks told someone else? I wonder if Claudia or Brooks himself also got a note? You should ask Claudia. Right after you call the police.” With that, he folded his arms across his chest to indicate that the discussion was over.