Читать книгу Deadly Drama - Jody Holford - Страница 14

Chapter Six

Judd gripped Molly’s wrist, his fingers digging into her skin with his hold. Her body jolted mid-fall and felt suspended for several seconds before he yanked her forward, away from the edge. The phone jostled against her ear.

“Ma’am? Can you tell me your name? Can you hear me?” The operator’s voice was steady and strong. Sobering.

Judd released her wrist, his face twisted with sadness. Tears welled in his dark eyes.

“We need ambulance and police at the rec center. There’s been a…a…” She stared at Judd and he waved her toward the body, shuffling closer.

“She was like this when I found her,” he said, his words wobbling. He stopped near Magnolia’s feet. “Don’t know that an ambulance will do her much good now. I checked her pulse.”

“Ma’am, are you in immediate danger? We’ve dispatched police,” the operator said.

“No. I, uh, there’s been an accident.”

Judd nodded his head and pulled a white handkerchief from the back pocket of his jeans, using it to wipe his brow and then his eyes.

“Police are on their way. Are you alone?”

“No.” She pulled in a deep breath. Her pulse settled to a simmer rather than a rapid boil. Judd stood near the body, pulling the handkerchief through his hands, one to the other. Molly took another deep breath. “No. My name is Molly Owens. I’m with Judd Brown and it looks as though Magnolia Sweet has died.”

She didn’t register what the operator said after that because she hung up, slipping her phone in her back pocket. Her hands shook and her steps didn’t feel quite steady.

“Are you all right?” she asked him, keeping her distance but scanning the stage.

He scoffed. “Better than her, obviously. You think it just fell on her?” He looked up to the ceiling then leaned into the house again.

She didn’t want to look but her feet took her closer. “There’s no head wound.” Her eyes scanned the ground. Nothing she could have tripped or slipped on. If she’d slipped on the same coffee Molly had, she wouldn’t be lying where she was.

Judd continued running the cloth through his hands with increasing speed. “Maybe the fright of it killed her.”

Unlikely. From what Molly had seen and heard, not much scared this woman. Other than the fact that she was lying with a house on top of her legs, Magnolia looked peaceful. She lay unmoving in a purple turtleneck and black slacks. There was something white under her head. A white cloth of some sort. But no blood, no marks. She took a step away, her eyes scanning the rest of the stage. It looked complete and oddly enchanting.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the rope, slowly moving around the house to see if maybe the rope was frayed. Had it just fallen? A scrap of blue stuck out from where two sides formed a corner. Molly leaned in to see what it was but jumped back with a shudder as she heard the sirens. Within seconds, police were coming through the front of the auditorium, Chris leading the pack.

She felt them approach from the side even before one of the officers barked out, “Freeze. Both of you stay exactly where you are.”

“For the love of,” Chris stopped and stared at her. “Molly. Dammit. Judd? You okay?”

She frowned and turned to face Chris. “Why would you just ask him if he’s okay?”

Chris holstered his weapon and instructed the others to do the same, coming around the side of the stage and taking the stairs two at a time.

He gave Molly a look that could turn water to ice. “Maybe because he doesn’t make a habit of finding people like this.”

Irritation buried the rest of her shakiness and she squared her shoulders even as she crossed her arms over her chest.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the other two officers who’d come in behind him went to the body and the officer who’d yelled at them went to Judd.

“I don’t do it on purpose,” Molly said, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

Chris shook his head and sighed deeply. “I know you don’t.”

He looked over at his guys. Molly recognized Officer Trevor Wills. He was another newbie to the area, though not to the job. He glanced at her, his lips pressed into a tight line, then met Chris’s questioning gaze and shook his head.

“Call the coroner. Secure the scene.” He put both hands on his hips, his brows practically touching.

Molly worried for one quick minute she’d be responsible for Chris having a stroke. Fortunately, he was young and pretty used to her. He pulled in a deep breath, hung his head and exhaled. When he looked back up, he appeared deceptively calmer.

He even gave her a one-sided smile. “Well, Ms. Owens. You definitely know the drill.”

Molly curved her lips in a false smile, refusing to cower even though her body felt cold. She reminded herself that Chris actually liked her and he did have a point about finding bodies.

“I do. Would you like me to give you my statement or your deputy?”

“I’ll take it. Start talking.”

That was not something he said to her all that often.

* * * *

Molly was grateful that Chris let her phone Sam after her statement, even though he didn’t want her to leave just yet. She sat in the front row, her heart and limbs equally heavy. The theater was lit up like a Christmas tree during the winter festival. It was nearly blinding and quite warm. Molly removed her jacket as Sam hurried over to her. She hadn’t seen him come in since she’d stopped paying attention to the comings and goings; her mind was somewhat numb. His mother was right behind him.

She stood and practically fell into his arms. He scooped her up against him, burying his face in her neck. He pulled back, looked down at her, looked her over, and then met her gaze.

“You’re okay?”

Before she could answer, Katherine swatted him away and took Molly’s face between her hands, turning it one way and then the other as if inspecting it for damage.

“You’re fine?”

Molly nodded and leaned in to hug Katherine. “I promised your mother I’d keep you out of trouble. Please don’t make me a liar,” Katherine whispered.

Molly pulled back and gave a watery laugh. Sniffling she leaned into Sam, whose arm came immediately around her shoulder.

“Trust me, I really don’t mean to. This was truly a case of wrong place and time. For both Judd and me. And, unless she did this to herself on purpose, Magnolia, too.”

Sam looked over to the stage, his jaw tightening. Magnolia’s body had been taken away but Chris’s men were still photographing every inch of the stage and interviewing the actors and stagehands who’d shown up for rehearsal.

“Chris thinks it was an accident?” Katherine asked, flanking Molly’s other side.

Molly’s nod was followed by a shrug. “I think so. She has no head wound though. Maybe she had a heart attack. It doesn’t make sense,” she muttered.

Sam’s hand rubbed briskly up and down her arm before he turned her toward him, looking down at her again. “You’re shaking. The adrenaline is wearing off.”

Chris, who’d been over near the left side of the stage talking on the phone, walked over to them as he slipped his phone in his pocket.

“Hey,” Sam said.

“Sam. Ms. Alderich.”

Sam’s mom patted his cheek and squeezed his forearm. “Christopher, you call me Katherine for heaven’s sakes.”

Molly bit the inside of her cheek because everything felt funnier when she was punch drunk. It wasn’t late but she was exhausted. The kind of boneless fatigue that typically followed a fast and furious rush of endorphins.

“Yes, ma’am. How are you doing, Molly?” Chris asked, sounding as tired as she felt.

“I’m okay. Where’s Judd? Is he all right? He was so shaken up when I got here.” Molly lifted her hand to brush the hair out of her eyes. It was falling out of the ponytail she’d pulled it into hours earlier.

Chris scowled and reached forward, his hand grabbing her elbow.

Sam scowled back. “What are you doing?”

Molly blinked rapidly. What was he doing?

With a gentleness she didn’t expect, Chris took her hand and stretched her arm out, rubbing his thumb over her wrist. She hadn’t noticed the bruising until then.

Deep, dark, purplish bruises marred her skin. On top, it was a nearly solid band of discoloration, but when Chris carefully turned her arm over, the other side showed finger imprints.

“Who did this to you?” Chris snapped.

Molly thought it was weird that she’d felt just fine—other than sleepy—until that exact moment. Now, her wrist throbbed. “Oh. Uh, when I got here, I was so startled I backed away from the body, and I guess I was going to fall off the stage. Judd grabbed me so I wouldn’t.”

“You guess?” Chris asked as Sam put a hand on her shoulder.

“I didn’t realize I was so close to the edge. He saved me from falling.”

“And left one hell of a mark,” Chris said, letting go of her hand.

Molly encircled her wrist with her other hand, feeling the gentle heartbeat under those fingers. She stared at the marks a moment, again wondering how Magnolia could look so peaceful, not a scratch on her, and not be okay.

She lifted her chin and looked at Chris. “The mark would have been worse if I’d tumbled off the stage.”

Katherine rubbed Molly’s arm. “Thank God you didn’t, sweetheart. Chris, we need to take her home. She’s about to fall over. Surely, you’re finished with questioning.” It was a prim and firm motherly tone.

“Yes, ma’am. Go home, Molly. Get some rest…and do me a favor?”

She sighed, long and deep. “Like you said, I know the drill. I won’t print any details until you give me some.”

“That’s right. I’ll let you know the cause of death when I do but until then, let’s respect the family in their time of grief.”

Molly bit her bottom lip to avoid snapping at him. She might be a lot of things—dogged, stubborn, and—now and again—a teensy bit reckless. But she was never thoughtless or careless about people’s feelings. It came from having people be that way about her own so often throughout her life. From new school mates to boyfriends, people had opted not to tread carefully where Molly’s heart was concerned.

“Have they been notified?” Sam asked.

Chris nodded. “Yes. But that’s all I can say. Go home. I’ll speak to you later.”

“I’ll count the minutes,” Molly answered, picking up her coat and purse. She caught Sam’s gaze and her heart tumbled in her chest. He was looking at her with so much affection she had to fight the urge to throw herself at him again.

“Cute,” she heard Chris mutter as he walked away.

Katherine took Molly’s purse from her and gently pulled Molly’s long, dark ponytail from beneath the collar of the jacket Sam helped her slip on. “Why do you and Chris constantly push each other’s buttons?” she asked as they walked toward the exit of the auditorium.

“Everyone needs a hobby,” Molly said around a yawn.

Three police vehicles were parked in the loading zone directly in front of the rec center and crowds of people hovered in little groupings. Heads turned their way and someone with a microphone followed by someone with a camera blocked their path.

Equal parts irritation, indignation, and protective instincts stiffened Molly’s spine. Before the woman—who, according to the sticker on her mic, was from a station in a neighboring town—could speak, Molly held up her hand.

“We have no comment. And neither will anyone else.”

“I’m just trying to do my job, Ms. Owens. Oh yes, I know of you. Her heartbroken fans are desperate to know: has Magnolia Sweet’s final curtain closed?”

Molly didn’t even try to stop the eye roll. She started to say more, but Sam pressed his hand to the small of her back and said in an unfriendly voice, “Excuse us, Miss. You’re blocking our path.”