Newspaper editor Molly Owens loves her new life—and her new man—in the beautiful seaside town of Britton Bay, Oregon. But when a car-show killer strikes, she needs to put the brakes on the culprit . . .
As editor-in-chief of the Britton Bay Bulletin, Molly steps in for a sick reporter to cover the Classic Car Crawl, an exhibit of vintage automobiles. Her main challenge is not being driven to distraction by the presence of her hunky boyfriend, Sam Alderich, a fellow car enthusiast whose auto shop is sponsoring the event. But when she and Sam discover the co-founder dead in his car, Molly quickly shifts gears to solve the murder. With a showroom full of suspects—including the co-founder's longtime partner, much-younger wife, enigmatic ex, and car owners with grudges and grievances—Molly soon starts to feel like she's spinning her wheels. And after things take a turn for the worse, it's all she can do to steer clear of trouble and stay out of a killer's clutches . . .
Release date:
October 22, 2019
Publisher:
Lyrical Press
Print pages:
256
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Molly Owens had a pretty strong grasp on vocabulary, but clearly she misunderstood the word chilly. When the locals, including her boyfriend, told her that the seaside town she’d taken up residence in would start getting chilly at the beginning of October, she wasn’t concerned. As a former army brat, she’d lived all over and had known cold. She’d seen snow. Maybe she didn’t remember it all that well, but she had survived low temperatures. Her brain must have blocked it out like a traumatic memory, though.
When she stepped outside the little cottage she rented behind a bed-and-breakfast, a gust of wind kicked up its heels and danced over every inch of her body. Her dog, a sweet, little, black-and-white fur ball, tugged on his leash, undaunted by the frigid air. He was ready for his morning walk by the beach whether she was or not.
“Oh. My. Goodness.” She barely stopped her teeth from chattering. Chilly was “Grab a sweater for later when the sun goes down.” This was “Where did I put my parka and earmuffs?” weather. Britton Bay, Oregon, was not simply chilly.
“It’s freezing,” she said to Tigger, who continued to tug. Wishing she had gloves, but really wanting to get the walk in, she tugged the sleeves of her jacket down, trying to warm her hands.
Tigger plodded forward, knowing the route from their cottage to the ocean.
She laughed through the shivers. “Okay, okay. Calm down. How are you not cold?”
Giving a bark of enthusiasm, Tigger led the way with his nose, sniffing at every inch of the path they took daily. Molly looked over to a two-story Victorian home. Its gorgeous, soft-blue coloring made it blend with the sky on a perfect day. No one was on the back porch today. Too cold out. Anyone smart would have stayed tucked under the covers.
Molly smiled when she thought of the man tucked under her covers. The one who sleepily asked if she’d wanted company for the walk, falling back asleep before she could reply. For someone who ran his own business, one that often saw early customers, Sam did not enjoy early mornings.
Before coming to Britton Bay, Molly hadn’t cared one way or the other. She got up for work each day when she’d lived in L.A. Routine and repetition ground out having a preference. Since coming to this little dot of a town on the Oregon coast, though, seeing the sun rise over the water had become addictive.
She and Tigger crossed the quiet road and headed into the thicket of trees that parted only enough to create a walkable path. She’d found the shortcut to the beach her first week here, which was just over five months ago now. Almost half a year. Where did the time go? Tigger stopped to investigate what he must have felt was a particularly aromatic patch of flowers. The colorful petals were tipped with ice. The wind was getting stronger now that they were closer to the beach.
“Come on, you.” She tugged him toward the rough pine steps that led down to the water. She could hear the waves through the trees. Increasing her pace, she all but jogged down the steps. It was only just October now, and they’d had a run of warm, sunny days to close out September. Hopefully, they’d get a few more before winter actually hit.
At the end of the steps, Molly’s feet sank into the sand. She pulled in as much fresh air as she could, and despite the chill, her smile widened. The sky was a blurry wash of shades—red, orange, and yellow merging and overlapping. The water, deceptively still, shone with the reflection of cloud puffs and color.
Tigger sat on her feet, his favorite spot, and whined, looking up at her. She crouched down and rubbed his side, laughing when he nudged her with his nose.
“Worth the chill and the early hour, huh, boy?”
He yipped at her, then lowered the front of his body, wagging his tail with endless enthusiasm. As they walked the beach—she reveled in the quiet and he reveled in the scents—she thought being here, in Britton Bay, was worth a lot of things.
It was worth the long, roundabout way she’d gotten here. It was strange to think, but sometimes she felt like this little pocket of the earth had been waiting for her to show up and start her life. From the moment she’d arrived, she’d breathed better, her pulse had slowed, and she’d found something she hadn’t in all of the other places she’d tried to settle: contentment.
As they scooted up the curve of the beach, taking the walking path up to the pier, Molly saw Bella, who owned Morning Muffins, working on her sidewalk chalkboard sign. Molly watched as Bella, using a bright yellow piece of chalk, made the shape of an L and grinned.
“Please say that’s the start of you telling the world your lemon loaf is the special today.” Molly pulled Tigger back when he started to prance forward on his back paws in his eagerness to see the baker.
Bella’s musical laughter filled the air, and she looked up at Molly. “It’s like you’re a mind reader. Or sign reader, I guess. Hello, Tigger. Are you ever not happy, bud?” Setting the chalk down, she petted him and laughed again when he went belly-up.
Molly couldn’t help but laugh at her pup’s shameless bid for as much attention as possible.
“You guys are out earlier than usual,” Bella said, returning to her lettering.
Molly crouched and got Tigger to sit with a little more dignity at her side. “I like to be at the paper early on Thursdays but didn’t want to miss out on the walk. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the view.”
“It’s something,” Bella agreed. She made a loop for the second L, then glanced over at Molly. “Sam excited about the car show?”
“He is. Stressed, I think, though he wears it well. But it’s the first time I’ve seen him make an actual to-do list.” Sam’s auto shop was hosting and sponsoring the event, and her even-keeled boyfriend revealed nerves only in the subtlest of ways.
Standing and shaking the cramp out of her legs, she checked her phone and wondered if he was out of bed yet. They both needed to get to their respective jobs.
“It’s so nice that we have one more event to look forward to before the town really shuts down for the winter,” Bella said.
“It is. The official start is tomorrow, but the event organizers are arriving today. Jill is heading over to Come ’n Get It this evening to interview them.”
Bella smiled as she stood up and wiped her hands on her apron. A few years younger than Molly, the baker never wore makeup and always had her hair tucked up in one of those buns that looked prettily messed. Today was no exception.
“I love that Jill is back in town. It’s almost like she never left,” Bella said. Jill was Sam’s cousin and a good friend of everyone’s favorite baker. In typical small-town fashion, the connections among the residents were endless, and Molly realized she didn’t feel like an outsider anymore.
“I heard you’re offering a decorating class during the show.” It was one of the many family-friendly activities being offered during the almost three-day event.
“I am. For kids. I thought it would be a unique way to showcase my food, but also that it would give the kids something to do. My dad used to drag me to car shows when I was a kid, and all I can ever remember thinking was how boring they were.” Bella picked up her chalk and tucked it back in the box.
“I’ve never been to one,” Molly admitted. She’d never had a reason before meeting Sam.
Bella glanced at the time through her shop window. “You want some lemon loaf? I need to open up.”
“I absolutely do,” Molly said. Tigger wagged his tail at the pitch of her voice.
Bella laughed and bent to pet him again. “I think I might have a dog bone for you, mister. Be right back.”
* * * *
Lemon loaf in hand, pup leading the way, Molly was wide awake by the time she got back to her cottage. She loved it here, really and truly loved it. Her little house was tucked between evergreens, looking like it had sprouted naturally at the back of the property. It was a one bedroom with its own miniature front garden and a big enough fenced back area for Tigger to run around in.
Thinking she’d need to wake Sam up and resist the temptation of crawling back into bed with him, she was surprised to hear him moving around in the kitchen. She took the leash off Tigger and hung it, removing her shoes while the dog made a mad dash. She walked into the kitchen to the sound of Sam’s laughter, and her heart flip-flopped along with her stomach. How could just his laugh brighten her day?
She inhaled sharply, seeing that he was still wearing just checkered flannel pajama bottoms. The smooth skin of his back and biceps, the disheveled state of his hair, and the way he grinned down at her dog was enough to make her mouth water. Yeah, she was definitely in the right place. As someone who was used to moving on, it was interesting to feel such a strong pull to stay.
The tattoo on his shoulder drew her attention, and even as he turned, those gorgeous green eyes zeroed in on her.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice a little rough.
A shiver raced over her skin, and it had nothing to do with the weather. She walked to him, set the baked goods on the counter in front of him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. His came around her as though they belonged there, and she held on, breathing in his clean, crisp scent, which was more intoxicating than the ocean’s.
“Morning. I wasn’t sure you’d be up.” She leaned back, accepted the sweet, gentle kiss he gave her.
Her hand moved up his arm, and she traced her fingers over the ink that he’d recently explained the meaning of. She’d wondered about the date, written in roman numerals inside a vintage Route 66 sign.
“Your dad would have loved knowing you brought the Classic Car Crawl here to Britton Bay,” she said. Sam had started his auto repair shop using money from his father’s life insurance after his passing. Sam spoke of his dad with so much love and respect, Molly was sorry she never got the chance to meet him.
“He would have. He took me to my first one in Las Vegas when I was nine. My mom was mad. Didn’t think he should be taking me anywhere near the Strip. But once we got there, all we did was look at cars, and I couldn’t get enough.” His hands sifted through her hair.
“Jethro and Brian will be getting into town later today,” she said, referring to the Classic Car Crawl founders. “Do you know if they’re staying at the hotel?” Sam’s mom, Katherine, ran the local bed-and-breakfast and hadn’t mentioned it.
“Nah. They’re staying at the RV park.”
Molly scrunched her nose up. “I don’t think I’d like knowing that much was behind me when I drove.”
Sam grinned. “They’ve been doing this for over twenty years, driving state to state. They’re used to it. And when I say RV, I mean miniature luxury home.”
“I think I’m happier with just my Jeep. Unless you want to go camping sometime; then I think I could handle hauling a tent. Though I’d rather stay at a bed-and-breakfast than in either of those.”
When he picked up a strand of her hair and played with it between his fingertips, she was momentarily distracted. He was always touching her, like he was part of her, and she was starting to get used to the feeling.
“I have to go. I was thinking I could bring you over some lunch later. You’ll be busy. I don’t want you to forget to eat.”
Sam tugged her closer. “You taking care of me?”
The idea sent a warm feeling through her body, starting at her chest and moving all the way down to her toes. “That okay?”
Pressing his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes, then opened them and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
Tigger flopped between them, on both of their feet.
Sam looked down. “Hey, buddy. Am I hogging all of the attention?”
Molly laughed and hugged him tight. “He got plenty of attention. From me and from Bella. By the way, your description of October weather was drastically understated.”
He let her go and picked up the brown bag on the counter, opening it. “Cold out there? I don’t doubt it. Even when the sun is shining, it’s like a switch is flipped, bringing out the frost.”
Pulling out a piece of lemon loaf, he took a bite. “Mmm. I could start every morning like this.”
Molly grabbed a plate from the cupboard for her own piece. “With Bella’s baked goods?”
He poked her side with his index finger, then snaked his hand around her waist and pulled her to his side, kissing her temple. “I meant waking up to have you bringing me lemon loaf.”
Her heart trembled. She’d lived with a man before, and it had ended badly. Though she’d been careful to guard her heart with Sam, he’d easily snuck through all the barriers, and if she wasn’t cautious, she’d ignore all of her previously learned lessons and forget about taking it slow. The truth was, she’d love to wake up next to him every day. But the truth was also that they’d only been together less than six months.
Taking the second piece of lemon loaf out of the bag, she grinned at him. “Maybe we can buy it in bulk and freeze it,” she suggested.
“Right,” he said around another bite. “Except that you’re equally addicted to Bella’s scones and muffins, so we’d also have to keep those on hand.”
He wasn’t wrong, and the immediate lurch of her heart settled, her pulse returning to normal. There was nothing wrong with enjoying the little things with Sam—like bringing him lemon loaf after a freezing morning walk. She could think about her future and know he wanted to be in it without second-guessing the thought. She’d never known anyone as loyal and innately kind as Sam. Other than his mother, Katherine, who ran the bed-and-breakfast and had happily welcomed her not only into the cottage, but into her family.
“You look too serious for not even seven a.m. You okay?”
Taking a small bite of the delicious lemon cake, she nodded. “I am. More than okay.”
He reached out and stroked a hand down her hair. “Agreed. I need to shower and get to work. We on for later tonight?”
“Yup. Unless you get busy with stuff. But I can help if you need anything.” She liked planning their day together.
Sam’s smile chased away any residual chill from the morning. He stepped into her and kissed her again, before pulling her tight and burying his nose in her neck. When he pulled back, he kissed the tip of her nose.
“You should probably be careful, Molly Owens,” he said with mock seriousness.
“Why’s that?” She had to crane her neck to look up at him.
“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner with you? A guy could get pretty addicted to that.”
Her heart nearly danced right out of her chest. See? You’re not alone in how you feel. And since he was so free with his affection and feelings, she could be as well.
Going up on tiptoe, she kissed him, just a gentle brush of her lips across his. “I think I’m okay with that.”
When he grinned, gave Tigger an extra rub, and then went to shower, Molly finished her lemon loaf with a grin on her face.
So much to look forward to. After a shaky end to the summer, Britton Bay was settling down again, and Molly was settling right along with it. The car show would be driving into town tomorrow, and she was excited to share in the town’s enthusiasm—and, mostly, in Sam’s. This was a big event for him. A big deal for his business. Molly couldn’t wait to stand by his side as he pulled off one of his dreams.
Chapter Two
When Molly pulled her Jeep into her parking space behind the squat brick building that housed the Britton Bay Bulletin, the weather hadn’t warmed any. She grabbed her purse and laptop and got out of her vehicle just as Clay East whipped his car into his spot.
She returned the wave he gave through the windshield and headed for the door. Clay wasn’t her favorite person. He’s not anyone’s favorite person. Technically, he was their social media director and part-time photographer, but actually, he spent most of his time slacking off and making people uncomfortable. The small staff at the Bulletin—including her boss, Alan Benedict—put up with it because they all still felt bad for the loss of his father in June. Vernon East had been the lead reporter at the Bulletin for longer than his son, Clay, had been alive.
“Hey, Molly,” Clay said, catching up to her. The heavy scent of his cologne didn’t mix well with the ocean air. She unlocked the door but wasn’t surprised when he scooted in ahead of her instead of offering to hold it open.
“Hi. How are you?” Molly was the one to find Vernon’s body, and some nights the memory of that kept her awake, though not as much since Sam had been sleeping beside her. But between the memory of that event and the guilt of mistakenly suspecting Clay as the killer, Molly tried hard to keep the irritation out of her voice.
“Pretty good, according to the woman whose bed I just left,” he said with a laugh.
And he made it so difficult. Letting the door close behind them, she didn’t hide her eye roll.
“Charming.”
“Aw, come on. I was just teasing.”
Molly nodded, hoping he’d head straight to his desk and she could avoid him for. . .
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