Page 73 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

Chapter Forty

“I just can’t believe it,” Miss Lilly murmured in shock, eyes misty as she studied the photo Molly and Brec had found in his father’s album. The one taken at the party Blaine’s parents gave before everyone went off to college, where all six of the Lads grinned at the camera in a toast outside in the yard, beer bottles raised high.

How Molly wished Miss Lilly’s shock was from the illegal beer Blaine’s parents may or may not have known about, but she knew better. A chill skittered down her spine, just like the one she’d had at Brec’s dad’s house when she’d first seen the picture.

A boy with his friends, bright smile, blond hair askew, and brown eyes twinkling. Dressed in a white linen jacket with a powder-blue T-shirt and acid-washed jeans, just like in her nightmare. Her eyelids sank closed for the briefest of moments.

Hand shaking, Miss Lilly slowly traced a gnarled finger over the one Lad who wore a belt with a coin belt buckle, glinting under the patio lights.

Alan Murray.

Which meant that not only did Alan and Pete lie. But apparently Pastor Dave did too.

Which didn’t bode well for the Lads.

“What happens now?” Miss Lilly whispered, hands shaking as she handed the photo to Chase, who’d come straight over to Emerald Cottage after Sloan had shown up at Hope Church. According to Chase, Sloan had interrupted their weekly planning meeting with a grim face, pulling Chase aside to ask him to go keep Miss Lilly company while he interviewed Pastor Dave.

Studying the picture now, Chase had the same stoic look he’d always worn before a mission as a Navy SEAL, an underlying tension simmering beneath the surface despite his calm and collected demeanor. “Sloan said he plans to question Dave first, Pete next, and then he’ll come straight here. If neither Dave nor Pete can explain why Alan is wearing the belt”—Chase’s chest rose and fell in a burdensome sigh as he laid the picture on the table— “it doesn’t look good for Alan. Sloan said Alan will need to fly here for further questioning and may even be arrested.”

Molly buffed her arms when a chill iced her skin, her nerves on edge from the two pots of coffee they’d all just consumed. “There’s just so much we don’t know,” she said quietly, “but from what we do, it certainly seems as if Alan had the most motivation, given his conflict with Greg over Marla.” She glanced up, her worried gaze scanning the faces at the table. “If we’re to be honest, all of Miss Lilly’s problems seemed to start after Cal fished that coin out of the lake.” She swallowed hard as she laid a hand on Miss Lilly’s arm. “Right after Miss Lilly told Muriel about it, right?”

“Right.” Chase immediately zeroed in on his landlady. “Do you remember when you told Muriel that Cal had fished a doubloon out of the lake, Aunt Lilly?”

Miss Lilly blinked first at Chase, then at Molly before she lapsed into a pensive stare, eyes in a squint as if trying to recall the exact time. “Well, definitely before Molly came to live with me …” she said, voice tapering off as she continued to think about it, “but I didn’t tell Muriel till after …”—she glanced up at Chase—“after I tripped down the steps the first time, I think, twisting my ankle.” Her weathered lips quirked the slightest bit. “And after someone badgered me into hiring help.”

A return smile flickered on Chase’s mouth, affection warm in his eyes. “And it’s a good thing, too, young lady, or I wouldn’t get any sleep at night.”

Hiding her smile, Molly blinked at Miss Lilly in hurt innocence, eyes wide. “Badgered?”

A husky chuckle rattled from Miss Lilly’s throat as she patted Molly’s hand. “Bullied is more like it, into one of my best decisions ever.”

“Your decision?” Chase countered with a hike of his brow, the teasing going a long way to dissipate some of the gloom of the situation.

Tap. Tap.

“That’s probably Sloan.” Brec was up in a heartbeat with the tiny hint of a scowl on his face he always seemed to wear at mention of Sloan Kennedy. Opening the door with nothing more than a curt nod, Brec stepped aside to allow Sloan in.

The deputy strode in with a tight smile, nodding a somber hello to everyone at the table before taking a chair. “Let me put your minds at rest right off the bat to say both Pastor Dave and Pete confirmed that although the belt was, indeed, Alan’s, he’d lost it to Greg that very night in a poker game.”

Molly exhaled the breath she’d been holding with a quick squeeze of Miss Lilly’s hand. “Oh, thank God!”

Shoulders limp with relief, Miss Lilly splayed a frail hand to her chest, a wispy sigh drifting from her lips as well. “Thank God, indeed.”

“So … where does that leave us, Sloan?” Chase angled back in his chair with a cross of arms.

Sloan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, it seems all we have to go on now is that Greg fell in with a rough crowd in college who may have murdered him over drugs, so I’ll beef up the investigation on that angle, trying to find out just who was involved in that crowd.” Sagging back in his chair, he kneaded the back of his neck, suddenly appearing very tired. “And with Pete’s suspicions that loan sharks murdered Roy”—he gave a weary shrug of his shoulders—“at least that appears to minimize the danger to Miss Lilly as far as any further break-ins.”

Molly gave Miss Lilly a side hug. “I have to admit that scenario does relieve me considerably. Deep down, I secretly worried Alan was involved somehow. All of Miss Lilly’s problems began after she told Muriel about the ‘sunken treasure,’ after all, although I suppose Cal could have told Roy about the coin.” She ducked to smile at Sloan, pretty sure he could use a shot of caffeine. “How ’bout a coffee, Sloan? You look beat.”

“That would be great, Molly,” Sloan said with a grateful smile, his eyes revealing far more than gratitude. “Bold roast regular, black please, if you have it.”

She jumped up and pushed in her chair. “You know I do, Sloan, because you and Brec have the same taste.”

“Apparently,” Brec muttered under his breath, and Molly was ashamed to admit she was secretly thrilled that Brec seemed a tiny bit jealous whenever Sloan was around. Since his “come to Jesus” meeting with Miss Lilly over two weeks ago, she’d noticed a distinct difference in his faith and feelings toward God. Which, in turn, produced a distinct difference in her faith and feelings toward him.

“You asked Cal about that as I recall, didn’t you Sloan? About whether he’d mentioned the coin to Roy?” Molly plugged a K-cup into the Keurig before glancing over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I did, but he didn’t remember telling Roy when I interviewed him a while back, although he did admit he might have”—Sloan’s smile tipped off-center—“said his memory’s not all it used to be.”