Deadly Vows

Book 2: Britton Bay Mystery

by Jody Holford

Genres: Cozy Mystery; Thrillers

Synopsis

Former Army brat Molly Owens is happily settling into her new life in the seaside town of Britton Bay--and into new her job as editor-in-chief of the local paper. But as tourists discover the desirable spot, the tide along the Oregon Coast is turning . . .

Britton Bay is buzzing with preparations for a wedding at the bed and breakfast where Molly rents a small carriage home. Molly is even helping out and plans to interview the rising star caterer--until the woman is found dead. And then the bride-to-be goes missing. To make matters worse, the venue is owned by Molly's new boyfriend's mother--and Molly was among the last people to see the victim alive. All of which makes solving the crime her top priority . . .

With the nuptials indefinitely on hold, Molly will have to sift through a sticky mix of suspects, including a rival caterer with a short fuse, a groom with an illicit secret, and a wedding party riddled with personal drama. And if she doesn't discover the truth soon, Molly might be her own front-page news...

Release date: April 9, 2019

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 256

Sample

Chapter One

Watching the setup of a wedding was somewhat like going backstage at a play: it wrecked the magic. Or maybe, Molly Owens thought, as she sipped her delicious dark roast and leaned against the doorframe of her little cottage, it was the screeching bride-to-be putting a damper on the mood.

Tigger, the sweet black-and-white border collie she’d adopted quite by accident, growled and gave a little yip as he plopped his bottom on Molly’s slipper.

“I know, buddy. Let’s just assume she’s stressed.”

Glancing at her watch, Molly gave herself five more minutes of shameless observation. She was a people watcher by nature, which came in handy considering her job editing and sometimes writing the news. Even if she wasn’t an avid fan of watching the interactions of people, she’d have been caught up in the palpable drama going on in the driveway of the bed-and-breakfast where she rented an adorable fairy-like home. The sprawling Victorian structure had been converted to a bed-and-breakfast years ago and, since Molly’s arrival in Britton Bay only a few of months ago, never seemed to have a dull moment.

Currently, the blonde bride-to-be was yelling at one of the workers, seemingly not intimidated that he towered over her. Though her arm motions spoke louder than her words, Molly heard bits and pieces; words like “late” and “reliable.” Seeing as the wedding party had only just arrived, Molly wondered what time the bride had expected the work crews. She knew the owner had been working round the clock to prepare for having a full house and a big event. Surely the bride didn’t think the venue would be entirely ready to go when she arrived.

Even if she had thought the staging would be set, there was no way to ignore the beauty of her surroundings. Even without the trimmings of a wedding, the lot, the house, and the gardens were majestic.

Molly’s cottage was set back on the large property, away from the main house and surrounded by trees and pretty flower beds. It was the perfect backdrop for the wedding scheduled for five days from now. Providing the bride didn’t go into cardiac arrest before that.

Katherine Alderich, owner of the bed-and-breakfast, appeared as if out of nowhere. In reality, she’d likely come through the kitchen out onto the back deck and into the driveway. She spoke quietly to the bride and even from a distance Molly could see the kind glance she gave the chastised worker, who went back to carting tables and chairs from the truck to the yard.

Standing in front of the blonde, Katherine reminded Molly of a young Hepburn-esque actress giving a pep talk. Whatever she said had the bride nodding her head and then leaning in for a hug. Katherine put an arm around the woman, who looked a little younger than Molly’s twenty-eight, and guided her toward the back deck. The sweet, mothering owner of the B and B had a way with words that usually stole an argument right out of the other person’s mouth.

Molly pulled her phone out of her back pocket, her grin wide. Setting her coffee on the little table just inside her entrance way, she texted her boyfriend.

Your mom is a miracle worker. Still, I think the next five days are going to be stressful.

Sam’s response was almost instantaneous.

She does have a way about her. Getting a good view of all the happenings?

Molly grinned, looking up to see another vehicle—a dark minivan—pulling into the drive.

And then some. I’m just about to leave for work. Hope you have a good day.

It’d be better if I knew I’d see you later.

Molly’s heart double-jumped.

That could be arranged.

I’ll bring dinner. We can pull your little bistro table to the front yard and watch the show ;)

She laughed, thinking that even though they’d only been dating just shy of a couple of months, he knew her very well.

Sounds perfect. xo

* * * *

Despite the still early hour, by the time Molly left for work, the sun was on its way to burning up the concrete. Britton Bay, the seaside town she now called home, was getting a late summer heat wave. Sweat dripped down the curve of her back and she pictured jumping into her Jeep—roof off—just to speed up the journey. If she’d been on her own, she likely would have, but Tigger needed to expend some energy if he was going to hang around the newspaper office with Molly and her staff. He’d become something of a mascot and was well loved by everyone there. As she strolled along the sidewalk, nodding hello to tourists who were out for early morning fun at the beach, she breathed in the salty, sweet air. Maybe she’d see if Sam wanted to swim later. Or just hang out on the sand and watch the sun set over the ocean. Funny how she’d lived in LA for a long time and had never made use of the many beaches. But Britton Bay was literally a beachside town, unlike Lancaster, where she’d moved from. The easy access made a walk on the beach or a quick dip in the ocean easy to build into her routine.

Extending like long, winding arms from the beach were the two sides of Main Street. There was a host of different establishments offering tourists their heart’s delight, be it milkshakes, confectionaries, or the best burgers south of Oregon. Along with those businesses, there was a pet food store, a small five and dime grocer, a spa-slash-hair-slash-gossip-salon, and her boyfriend’s auto garage. There were few needs that couldn’t be met in the central hub of town. The prices at the Main Street stores tended to be a little higher, given the traffic they received, but that changed with the coming and going of the seasons. This would be Molly’s first shift from peak season into the quiet winter months.

Checking her watch once more, she decided she had enough time to stop in at Morning Muffins. Bella Reid was a genius with flour and sugar. Molly’s stomach growled just thinking about the lemon blueberry scones the baker had recently perfected.

“Hey Molly,” Hannah Benedict, her boss’s niece and one of their employees at the paper said.

Molly turned to see the teen walking toward her, looking like sunshine in a pair of capris and a flower patterned tank top. At seventeen, she was more mature than some of the adults Molly had met. There were times she forgot she was conversing with a teen, but then she’d see her like this, with her blonde hair pulled to the side in a thick braid, not a hint of makeup on her youthful face, and she’d remember how young she was. It seemed forever ago that Molly was the same age. You didn’t have it half as together as Hannah does.

“Hey, Hannah. You’re out and about early. I didn’t think you were on at the paper until noon today.”

Hannah crouched to greet Tigger, who acted as though he hadn’t seen the girl in a month of Sundays. In reality, he’d seen her yesterday at the office.

“Yeah, I slept at my friend Dee’s last night and wanted to go home before work. Hello to you, too. You’re so cute. Yes, you are,” Hannah said, laughing at the dog’s enthusiasm. She looked up at Molly, her eyes squinting against the sun. “I still can’t believe no one has claimed him.”

Molly’s heart squeezed painfully at the thought that anyone would. When she’d first found the little guy behind the newspaper offices, she’d been prepared to find his owner and even gave it a good try. But now, it had been almost a couple of months and she was more than a little attached. He was hers.

“Me neither, but Sam said there’d been a problem a while back with puppy mills so maybe he really doesn’t have a home.”

Hannah stood, brushed off her pants. Molly hadn’t quite gotten Tigger to stop jumping yet.

“He does now,” Hannah said.

Looking down at the adorable pup, Molly nodded. “Yeah, he does.”

“You getting muffins?” Hannah gestured toward the bakery.

“I am. I’ll buy you one if you hang on to Tigger for me.”

Hannah held out her hand for the leash. “Deal. Chocolate chip, please.”

Inside the shop was quiet. A couple of older ladies were chatting over large mugs of coffee and cinnamon buns at a table near the window. Bella was behind the counter, her hair tucked up in a high bun, her dark apron dusted with flour.

She glanced over and gave Molly about half the smile she gave most. “Morning, Molly.”

“Good morning. It’s quiet in here,” Molly remarked. Bella was well-known by locals and tourists alike for her delicious treats.

“You just missed the rush actually. I think a lot of tourists are heading home so there was an early morning crowd.”

Molly looked at the display case to see what was available. “You can’t blame them for wanting one last taste.” Her mouth watered.

Bella’s smile morphed into the real thing. Molly was taking it one step at a time, trying to regain Bella’s trust after mistakenly accusing the baker’s boyfriend of foul play earlier in the summer.

She wiped her hands on her apron. “Thank you. What can I get you?”

If she thought too hard about it, she’d change her mind a dozen times. “I’ll have a lemon blueberry scone and six chocolate chip muffins.”

Bella laughed. “Hungry?”

Molly nodded her head toward the door where Hannah could be seen through the glass playing with the pup. “Might as well treat the staff.”

“Good call.” Bella got a box for Molly’s order and slid open the case. “So, how’s the B and B? The wedding is this weekend, right?”

News moved through Britton Bay quicker than Tigger gobbled his food. The wedding was worthy of big-time gossip among the locals since the mother of the bride had grown up in the converted Victorian. The childhood connection had warmed Katherine’s heart, making her agree to host the entire wedding party in the six rooms she had available.

Molly leaned on the counter while Bella grabbed the muffins. “It is. They started arriving this morning. Loudly.”

Bella taped the box shut and glanced at Molly, one eyebrow arched. “Uh-oh. My mom went to school with the bride’s mom. Said she was quite the diva. Of course, she could have just been trying to make me feel better after Katherine called me about the catering.”

Bagging up the scone and passing it over, Bella rang up the order. Molly tried to think of a polite way to quell her curiosity as she tapped in her PIN.

“What happened with the catering?” There was no polite way to be nosy.

The baker huffed out a breath and pushed a strand of hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. “You know I normally supply Katherine’s baked goods and she’d explained to the mother of the bride that breakfasts were included, but she insisted that they wanted their own caterer even for the days before the wedding.”

Molly accepted the bag from Bella after tucking her bank card away. “Hmm. They do strike me as the types to be quite particular.”

When a timer dinged, Bella glanced toward the door of the kitchen, then back at Molly. “I’ll say. Apparently the caterer won some big culinary contest and they wanted the wedding party to experience the award-winning delights for all five days.”

Though there was a tinge of irritation in the baker’s voice, she didn’t seem angry about the loss of income. Molly knew, firsthand, that it was in Bella’s nature to forgive and forget. Mostly. Despite her apology for adding Callan, the shake shop owner, and Bella’s guy to her list of suspects who may have wanted her former colleague dead, there was still a certain amount of stiffness to the interactions she had with the baker. Molly’s not so polite nosiness had created potholes in the road to friendship with Bella. Plus, she’d been completely wrong. Molly was still hoping things would feel natural between them since they were close in age and she genuinely liked the baker.

“Well, I don’t care if she was given an award by Gordon Ramsey himself, there’s no way whatever caterer they’re bringing could make better muffins or scones than you.”

Bella smiled, all traces of tension vanishing from the woman’s features. Her dark brown eyes showed a mixture of affection and appreciation, making Molly grateful she kept trying to iron things out.

“Thanks. I better go or the next batch of scones will be anything but award worthy.”

Molly waved and went back out to greet Hannah and her Tigger. The dog jumped and yipped with unadulterated glee and Molly laughed, trading Hannah the leash for the box of muffins.

“Mind carrying those?” The Britton Bay Bulletin’s office was on the way to Hannah’s so Molly assumed the girl would walk with her and the dog.

As expected, Hannah took the box and fell into step beside her.

“So, I was thinking we could do a story about the wedding. Well, the bed-and-breakfast really. We could feature the house, which would give Katherine more exposure right?”

Molly couldn’t hold back the wattage on her smile. Hannah was a bright girl with an excellent talent for storytelling. She interned at the paper in between classes during the school year, but had been working close to full time all summer. As usual, her idea was bright and fun and relevant. Something the newspaper had been missing when Molly arrived in town.

“It absolutely would and I agree, there’s a ton we could do surrounding the wedding. It’s important to have stories that pique interest,” Molly agreed as she thought about what Bella said.

As they neared the office, she added, “And I’m pretty sure there’s plenty of people interested in seeing how this wedding plays out.”

Chapter Two

The building that housed the newspaper office sat at the end of Main Street. A right or left turn led to residential neighborhoods with a mix of duplexes, cottage style homes, and a few apartment complexes.

Even though Molly had moved from a suburb in California, the vibe in this one was far calmer than any she’d ever known. It was like just being in Britton Bay slowed her pulse and forced her to move at a less frantic pace. It tried to, anyway. Molly liked to be busy and on the go.

This made her multipurpose position at the Britton Bay Bulletin very fulfilling. Letting herself in through the back door, she waited until it shut behind her to walk through the small alcove that led to the main areas. She headed for the kitchen to put the muffins on a plate and grab herself some coffee. Though she could hear music and a bit of chatter, no one else was in the kitchen. Flipping on the light, she grabbed a plate and cup. Hannah had taken Tigger home with her and would bring him back when she came to work.

“Mmm, what’s in the box?” Elizabeth asked, joining Molly at the counter, her mug empty.

“Muffins. Help yourself,” Molly said, giving the woman a smile.

Elizabeth had been a writer for the paper for many years and was good friends with the owner and his wife. From the beginning, she’d welcomed Molly with open arms. And at the time, Molly had desperately needed all the people in her corner that she could get. Being the new girl and getting put in charge didn’t always make someone the favorite among the other staff.

“You’re such a doll. How’s it going? The wedding extravaganza starts today, right?” Elizabeth grabbed some milk from the apartment size fridge.

“Already started. They were unloading canopies, tables and chairs when I left.”

“Katherine is a saint. I know she’s used to tourists, but to have that many in your house for that many days would make me crazy. Especially…” Elizabeth’s voice trailed off and Molly looked her way, taking a sip of her coffee before it was cool enough to do so.

“Especially?”

A pinkish hue colored the attractive woman’s cheeks. In her late fifties, Elizabeth had both a reserved elegance and youthful grace that drew people in. Much like Molly’s landlord.

“No. Forget I said anything. She’s coming in today to provide some photographs that we’re running in tomorrow’s edition,” Elizabeth said.

Curiosity tickled at the base of her skull, but Molly simply nodded and let it go.

“Yes. I’ve saved space in the layout. Is everyone else here? I’d like to do a quick meeting about the extra edition this week.”

On top of commandeering the bed-and-breakfast, the bridal party—or more specifically, the mother of the bride—had made the rounds and asked particular local businesses to take part in celebrating her daughter; mostly the newspaper, the hotel, and the marina.

“I’ll let everyone know,” Elizabeth said, walking out of the kitchen.

The floorplan of the newspaper headquarters reminded Molly of one of those miniature architectural models; a bunch of squares attached to a central rectangle. The main rectangle housed the design counter, several desks with partitions, and an open area where Molly had a whiteboard installed for brainstorming sessions.

Off of this common area was Alan Benedict’s office. Despite his family owning the newspaper for a couple of generations, her boss was approachable and down-to-earth. Molly had her own office, another little square, across the room from Alan’s. There was a bathroom and utility room off of the kitchen. Downstairs housed the real hub of the entire building: the printing press.

Molly plated the muffins, intent on gathering her staff. She was pleased to see they were all waiting near the whiteboard, a couple of them on stools and the others standing chatting. She put the muffins on the waist height, wide countertop where they all worked on the layouts together.

“Good morning,” Molly said.

She was greeted with a chorus of cheerful replies that she suspected were more for the muffins than her. She laughed when Jill Alderich, their newest staff writer—and Sam’s cousin—beat Clay to one that had more chocolate chips. Molly hadn’t been a fan of the twentysomethin. . .