Sealed with a Kiss

CHAPTER EIGHT

MOLLY WAS MORTIFIED. She couldn’t believe what she’d let Hunter do to her with so many people just two doors away. And she wanted him to do it to her again. She placed her hands against her cheeks, which hours later, she was sure were still flushed.

After Lucinda’s party, which included Irwin jumping out of a large papier-mâché birthday cake wearing a Speedo, Molly and Hunter spent the afternoon at the small-town library. He poured over paperwork sent over by his firm and Molly read through things as well, jotting down questions she had; the first of which was, what happened to the murder weapon?

Now Molly and Hunter huddled together in a booth at the local pizzeria, waiting for their dinner to be ready. Molly sipped her cola and though she was focused on her father’s case, other things occasionally distracted her. Things like Hunter’s large hands wrapped around a chilled Budweiser and thoughts of what those fingers could do. She crossed her legs, but instead of providing relief, the intense pressure started to build inside her again.

“So let’s talk,” Hunter said, leaning forward in his seat.

She swallowed hard. Talk. She could handle that. “God, I’m horny.”

He blinked.

Molly buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I just said that,” she mumbled.

She slowly raised her gaze, expecting to find him laughing at her inappropriate admission. Instead, his eyes were dark, his expression taut and serious.

“If you think you’re horny, try being me,” he said tightly. “At least you already-”

“Shh!” She reached out and placed her hand over his mouth. “I know I started this, but-” She shook her head, embarrassment filling her. “We’re in public.” Slowly, she removed her hand.

He relaxed, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “I’m sure there’s a closet somewhere in the back.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sheesh, you’re bad! You said let’s talk, so let’s talk.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing.”

“Business. Let’s talk business. You know what really bothers me about the case?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“What would that be?” He raised an eyebrow, suddenly serious again.

“The missing murder weapon.” The police had never found the gun, which both played in her father’s favor, since they couldn’t directly link him to the crime, but also made him look guilty, since the autopsy indicated the bullet that killed Paul came from a 9mm Beretta, the same make and model weapon the general owned.

Hunter nodded in agreement. “It’s frustrating that we live in such a technological age, but technology can’t help us now. According to your father, the weapon was stolen over fifteen years ago from a hotel room when he and Melanie went on vacation. But the written report is missing and because it was in a small town that hadn’t yet entered the computer age, we have no documented proof of a stolen gun.”

Hunter swung one arm over the back of his booth. “Plus, with Melanie gone, there’s nobody to back up Frank’s claim that he reported the gun stolen. That’s another strike against us. The prosecution will claim that Frank remained in possession of the gun all these years, used it to kill Paul and disposed of it like the meticulous career army man he is.”

Anger swept over Molly at the thought. “Anyone who knows him would realize that’s an absurd scenario.”

“Unfortunately we won’t be dealing with twelve people who know and love the general. Twelve strangers could very well conclude the theory makes sense.” He lifted the bottle by its neck and took a long sip.

“Swell,” she muttered. “What else do we know?” She thought about the papers she’d read through today. “We know that Paul had the same type of weapon as my father,” she said, answering her own question. “Which means we don’t know whose gun actually killed Paul because his gun is missing, too.”

“Go on,” Hunter said, his gaze never leaving hers.

He appeared interested in her thoughts and she appreciated the fact that he didn’t brush off her ideas as unimportant.

She drew a deep breath. “So whoever had access to Paul and Sonya’s house in the days before the murder also had the opportunity to take Paul’s gun. That’s another scenario for your jury of strangers.” Molly folded her arms over her chest, proud of her deduction.

“Damn, I’m starving,” Hunter muttered, off topic. He glanced over his shoulder at the counter, but the big pizza ovens were still closed and Joe, the owner, stood talking to a waitress.

“Doesn’t look like it’s ready yet,” Molly said.

He turned back toward her. “At this point I’d eat it cold.”

She laughed. “Don’t tell Joe. He only serves his pizza steaming.”

Hunter frowned at that. “Look, there are more than a few problems with the fact that Paul had the same kind of weapon,” he said, suddenly back to business.

Her stomach cramped at his words and it wasn’t hunger causing the discomfort.

“First, one of the main people to have access to the house and Paul’s weapon is your father. He said himself he went over there to talk to Sonya some time before the murder occurred. Score another point for the prosecution.”

She knew he wasn’t placing blame on the general, merely working with the facts, so she played along. “Well, yes, but he wasn’t the only one who could have taken it. I mean, as stupid as it is, even Sonya had access and we know she didn’t kill him.” Molly blinked. “Don’t we?”

Her head swam with that painful to contemplate possibility.

“I haven’t spoken to her yet, but it’s unlikely since most of your family say they saw her during the supposed time of the murder. But that doesn’t mean Frank committed the crime.”

Molly’s heart beat faster at his words, at the hint that he wasn’t just her father’s advocate but someone who believed in his innocence as strongly as Molly did. “Hunter-”

A bell rang from the front of the restaurant. “Molly, pizza’s up!” Joe called out.

“Thank God. I’m starving,” Hunter muttered.

She tried not to laugh. A man with an empty stomach was a serious thing. “Do you want to eat here or bring it home?”

“Here, definitely.”

Molly gestured for Joe to bring the pie to the table instead of boxing it up for takeout. “Good choice. Dad said he was going to a V.A. benefit for disabled veterans at town hall.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “And Jessie should be leaving for a school party any minute, but I’d really hate to overlap and have any drama between us tonight.”

Hunter nodded. “Still, it’s good that she’s going out. Better than staying home moping.”

“I hope it means her friends are lightening up on her some.”

Joe strode up to the table, pizza in hand, interrupting their conversation, and seconds later, the waitress brought plates and silverware and they were able to dig in. Actually, Hunter was able to dig in since the steaming hot cheese didn’t bother him. Molly had to wait until the bubbling cheese and red sauce cooled off before she could eat, but she enjoyed watching Hunter practically inhale his food like the big, strong man he was. Finally she was able to enjoy it, too, and they ate in comfortable silence.

She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin and suddenly realized how tired she was. “I am stuffed and exhausted,” she said, laughing.

“Ditto.” He gestured for the check.

She rose from her seat. “I’m going to go to the ladies’ room before we leave.” She wanted to wash the grease and smell of garlic off her hands. She glanced toward the restroom and caught sight of Sonya Markham.

Molly waved at the other woman, who stood picking up an order at the counter.

Sonya glanced away.

Molly shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t see me. Be right back.” She walked to the front of the restaurant and paused by the other woman’s side. “Hi, Sonya!” Molly said, pleased to see the recent widow out and about.

“Molly.” Sonya stopped fishing through her purse, looked up, then smiled.

Molly took in her drawn expression and the bluish tint under her eyes. “How are you doing?” she asked awkwardly.

“Not too bad, considering.” Sonya pushed her dark bobbed hair off her face. “Actually, I’m exhausted,” she admitted. “But I’m sure that’s obvious by looking at me. It’s hard to sleep and it’s harder to concentrate on anything at all.”

Molly couldn’t begin to imagine how Sonya was coping at all. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry.”

Sonya shook her head. “Don’t be. It’s actually good to get out and start facing the world again. And you and your family have been wonderful to me. Especially your father.”

For a split second, her eyes sparkled with a vibrancy Molly hadn’t seen since before the murder.

“Pizza’s up, Mrs. Markham,” Joe called from behind the counter.

Sonya turned and nodded to the owner, then glanced back at Molly. “I need to pick up my order.”

“I’d like you to meet someone first. Dad’s new lawyer, Daniel Hunter.” Molly gestured for Hunter, waving him over. He handed the waiter his credit card and started toward them.

Molly had wanted to pay for this meal but she’d just have to make it up to Hunter next time. He hooked his black leather jacket from one finger as he joined them. A smile spread over Molly’s lips as she was struck again by his handsome face and the comforting presence that accompanied him.

“Sonya Markham, this is Daniel Hunter, the attorney representing Dad.”

A flicker of gratitude swept over Sonya’s face. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She shook Hunter’s hand. “I swear to you that no matter what the police say, there’s no way Frank murdered my husband.” Her voice cracked on the last words.

“You have my deepest sympathies,” Hunter said. “I’ll do whatever I can to make this ordeal as easy on your family as possible.”

Warmth rushed through Molly at his compassionate tone. He instinctively knew the right thing to say and do, she thought. She was so proud of him, she could barely speak over the lump in her throat.

Still, she forced herself to focus on Sonya. “You know, if there’s anything I can do…” Molly trailed off.

Once again, words of comfort didn’t come easily to her. She didn’t know how to connect with someone else in grief. She just tried to extend herself to Sonya as best she could.

Sonya leaned forward and embraced Molly in an impulsive hug before pulling away. “I know. But like I said, your family has been wonderful to me. Thanks to Edna, we have a home-cooked meal every night, Robin calls often even from college, and if it weren’t for Jessie, I doubt Seth would make it through a day at school. And your father, well, he’s been my rock.” She seemed to be repeating herself intentionally, this time for Hunter’s sake.

Once again at the mention of Frank, Sonya’s face lit up with something more than gratitude, something that made Molly shift uncomfortably on her feet. “You two have such a strong history and friendship,” she said.

“I’m going to have to talk to you about the night of the murder,” Hunter interrupted in a gruff voice.

“I understand. Just say when.” Sonya tucked a strand of her short hair behind her ear.

“Tomorrow would be great.”

“Tomorrow it is.” Sonya suddenly glanced at her watch. “I really have to go. To my car,” she said, flustered. “I’m late for…” She hesitated and fiddled with her hair. “I’m late getting home. I have to bring Seth his dinner.”

Molly recalled Hunter’s impatience for food earlier and couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, I have some small understanding of how impatient men get when they’re hungry,” she said, laughing and lightly nudging Hunter in the ribs.

He rolled his eyes at her, but chuckled, too.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Hunter,” Sonya said.

“Same here.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Anytime after 10:00 a.m. is fine.” She quickly paid, took her pizza and headed for the door.

“She seems nice,” Hunter said.

“She is,” Molly agreed. “And my father adores her. She was a little off tonight, but I’m sure that’s normal given the circumstances.”

“It probably is. Are you ready to go or do you still need-”

“Just give me a second to go to the ladies’ room,” Molly said to Hunter, then rushed to the washroom.

Once inside, she washed her hands with raspberry-colored liquid soap, causing the strong smell of berries to fill the small room. She stepped to the windowsill where paper towels lay waiting, and dried her hands, looking out the window at the back parking lot.

Since the sun was setting, street lamps dotted the area with light. As if she were watching a scene straight out of a movie, a female figure moved slowly across the lot with a large pizza box in hand, stopping at one of the lampposts and resting against it. The light illuminated her face.

Sonya.

Molly expected her to look for her keys or walk to her car, but she remained where she was.

Molly crumpled the paper in her hands. She stared at the lonely figure and her heart broke for Sonya. Recent circumstances had changed her from vibrant and happy to desolate and sad. She’d have to talk to her father about doing more for Sonya and Seth, not that Molly knew what would help them except time. But she couldn’t help feeling that they needed something.

She tossed the paper towel into the garbage just as a navy Jeep pulled in to the lot. Her father had a navy Jeep. So did a lot of people in town, she reminded herself.

But only her father’s license plate read MEL629. His deceased wife, Melanie, and the date of their anniversary. According to Robin, the plate had been on her mother’s car and her father hadn’t been able to part with it when he’d sold her vehicle. The plate had passed to whichever truck or automobile the general owned or leased ever since.

At the sight of Frank, Sonya smiled. The expression of pure pleasure and joy couldn’t be mistaken. Molly’s thoughts immediately returned to what she’d seen earlier, when Sonya’s face had lit up at the mere mention of Molly’s father.

Were they more than just friends? she wondered for the first time.

No, neither of them would commit adultery. Sonya wouldn’t betray her husband or Frank his best friend. And she didn’t believe they’d started an affair in the short time since Paul’s death, either. She knew them too well to think either of them were that cold or callous.

But that doesn’t mean feelings between them don’t exist, a little voice in Molly’s head told her. She pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking of the lies that had seemingly been told tonight.

Her father was supposed to be at a V.A. event, not picking up Sonya in the back parking lot of Joe’s Pizza. And Sonya was supposed to be heading for her car so she could bring home pizza for Seth. But there were plausible explanations, plans changed. Maybe her father’s party had been boring and he’d left early or maybe Sonya had called him and asked for his company. Besides, Sonya didn’t owe Molly an explanation about her transportation.

No harm done, Molly thought, trying desperately to convince herself. But an awful feeling of déjà vu washed over her that was similar to the aura of foreboding she’d experienced last year. Right before her mother’s fiancé was shot and Molly’s world had drastically fallen apart.

Her head began to pound hard, the damning questions coming fast and furious. Why would Sonya lie about meeting Molly’s father? If the two adults wanted to talk, why not admit it? Why act like they had something to hide?

She shivered and headed back to find Hunter. She’d left him waiting long enough.

Twenty minutes later, they finally walked into the house after a long day. Too long to even contemplate, Molly thought. She hadn’t told Hunter what she’d seen from the bathroom window. Although she felt guilty withholding information, she couldn’t bring herself to reveal her suspicions. Her family unit hinged on Hunter’s representation and belief in her father.

She wanted him to trust that her father wouldn’t kill over his partner’s embezzlement, and tonight he’d admitted that Frank could possibly be innocent. Her father wouldn’t murder for money, that much she knew.

But Molly couldn’t help but wonder, Would her father kill for love?

HUNTER HEADED straight to the office he called his bedroom to unload his duffel while Molly played the answering machine.

“Two new messages,” a mechanical voice said.

The first was Lucinda, still giddy but happy and thanking Molly and her dear friend Hunter, and Edna who had finally shown up after Molly’s exit from the closet, for helping to make her birthday special.

The party seemed like a year ago, not just this morning, Molly thought as she left a note for the commander to call Lucinda in the morning.

The second message was from Jessie. Since there was so much background noise, Molly played the message again so she could hear. “Hi, Dad, it’s me. I know you’ll remember, but I still just wanted to remind you to pick up me and Seth at eleven from Sarah’s house. And if you want to come a few minutes early that’s okay. Seth’s not doing so good and I don’t mind leaving, either.”

Molly shook her head. Oh, no. No. She really didn’t want any more proof that her father and Sonya had deliberately lied to her.

“I thought Seth was home waiting for his pizza,” she said aloud. Sonya had said so.

But Sonya had also said she had to get to her car, when in reality she was waiting for Molly’s father to pick her up from the secluded back lot. Molly blew out a deep breath and ran a shaking hand through her hair. Was her father in love with Sonya and vice versa?

And if such a thing were true, just how long could Molly keep it from Hunter?

Within minutes the commander arrived home, followed by a foot-stomping Jessie. As it turned out, the commander had picked Jessie and Seth up at the party, not her father-which pretty much cemented Molly’s hunch that there was something going on between Frank and Sonya.

Something that Molly didn’t want to face or deal with tonight. Tomorrow, she’d listen while Hunter interviewed Sonya about the night of the murder, and she’d decide afterward just how important her news was to the case, or whether she could keep their secret a little longer. Hunter was finally making progress in the general’s case-she didn’t want to give him a reason to doubt her father’s integrity and honesty now.

Tonight, she planned to finish what she and Hunter had started earlier today.

After everyone turned in to bed, Molly took a long, hot shower. She tried to convince herself it was to wash off the grime of the day but she knew better. She was getting ready for a seduction. Not that she thought Hunter would need much to succumb, but she wanted to look her best when she made her move.

She didn’t own sexy lingerie but she did have one little number that Liza had bought her for Christmas. Since Liza had a steady guy she’d been dating for over a year, she never failed to mention Molly’s pathetic love life and had bought her this gift in hopes of spicing it up. Molly had had no need for the provocative outfit. Until now.

As for the family, the commander took Ambien and slept straight through the night. Jessie never left her room and besides, she’d shut her lights almost as soon as she’d come home from the party. As for her father, well Molly didn’t know if he was asleep or not, but she did know he was in his room and she doubted he’d disturb Hunter in the middle of the night.

Molly was counting on it.