Chapter 10

Three days later, Grace and Molly decided to walk the couple of blocks from the house to the downtown area and were at Caffeine Ivy's just in time for opening. Their plan was to get a table near the rear that gave them a good view of the rest of the cafe and wait for someone matching the description of Winston Haversham they'd gotten from Zoe and Emily.

They ordered coffee and spoke quietly to each other as every new person walked into the cafe.

It was almost an hour later when a distinguished-looking gentleman walked in. He had gray hair, a beard more white than gray, and wore a neat, winter-white mohair overcoat, black jeans, and lined boots. There was a bright red scarf jauntily wrapped around his neck. While he waited in line to order his coffee, he stripped his matching leather gloves off one finger at a time and then stuffed them into one of his coat's pockets.

"That's got to be him. Winston Haversham," Grace whispered to Molly. "Gotta be."

"If he's British, then he must be. He looks just like the description Zoe and Emily gave us."

Grace slid out of her seat and walked over to the pastry display case, looking as if she were browsing the selection. In reality, she was listening for the man to make his order.

"English Breakfast tea, if you please," the man said with a distinctly British accent.

Grace smiled to herself and stepped over to the counter. "I'd like to buy this gentleman his tea," she said.

"My dear girl, don't you think you're a bit young for an old bloke like me?" Winston smiled at Grace, obviously flattered.

She grinned back. "We have friends in common, sir. Zoe and Emily Callahan?"

"Ah, yes! Delightful girls, both of them. Sweet daughter, too. Lila, is it?"

Grace got the distinct impression he was testing her by misspeaking Zoe and Emily's daughter's name. "Lily," she corrected with a smile.

"That's right. Lily. Such a charming little girl. All those brunette curls and big brown eyes."

"She's a blue-eyed blonde. You do know them, right?"

"Saucy, aren't you? I do indeed. And now I know you know them as well." He grinned at her. "What can this old bloke do for you?"

"Come join us at our table and have a chat?"

"Us?"

"My girlfriend and me."

"Ah. I see. I'd be delighted, particularly since we have friends in common."

He took his tea in its to-go cup, slipped a paper wrapper around it, and followed Grace to the table where Molly waited.

"I'm Grace Conroy, and this is Molly Sunshine."

"Very good to meet you both. Sunshine…is that…?"

Molly laughed. "Yes, it's my real name."

"I was going to ask if it was the common spelling." Then he chuckled as well. He removed his coat and folded it neatly over the back of his chair. He unwound his scarf and, laying it on top of his coat, made himself comfortable on the chair.

Grace began. "Mr. Haversham—"

"Oh, my dear, call me ‘Winston.'"

She smiled. "Winston, I suppose you've heard about the murder in the hay maze?"

"I did, indeed. It's all anyone can talk about these past couple of days." Winston sipped his tea, scrunched his nose, and put it down again. "I knew the man, in fact. The victim. Jeremy Prada. Horrible person. Worked with Albert Herves, who was my investment broker. Seems Jeremy was running a Ponzi scheme, and I got caught up in it. Oh," he said, waving a dismissive hand, "I know I'm old enough to know better. If something sounds too good to be true, as the old saying goes… But I let greed get the better of me and invested a sizable sum with him. Lost it all, of course."

"Oh, Winston, I'm so sorry," Molly said. "That's awful."

"Perhaps, but not as awful as what happened to the Prada chap. From what I understand, he was shot but took a while to die."

Grace tried hard not to let her eyes pop open. Where had Haversham come across that bit of information? The police hadn't released the method of the murder. They were waiting on the autopsy. How would Haversham know Jeremy was shot and took time to die…unless he was there.

"Is that what people are saying?"

"Oh, yes. That and so much more. If one listens to the rumors, then he was also bludgeoned to death. Hung. Stabbed. Set on fire. Poisoned." Haversham chuckled. "The poor boy died more gruesome deaths than Rasputin."

Grace bit her lower lip. Was Haversham telling the truth? Or simply trying to cover up a slip of the lip? She couldn't tell.

Molly glanced at the watch on her wrist. "Grace, we need to go. I need to Uber to the field and pick up my truck, and then we need to shop for groceries. We promised to make dinner tonight for Emma and Zoe."

"Oh. Oh, yes, that's right." She turned to Haversham. "It was so nice to meet you, Winston. I hope we can have tea again sometime soon."

Winston stood when Grace and Molly did, and gallantly helped them into their coats. Then he waved them off. "Goodbye, my new friends. Give my love to Zoe, Emily, and Lily."

They smiled and waved at him as they left Caffeine Ivy's. Then Grace turned to Molly. "Uber to pick up your truck? Why? We can walk wherever we need to go for now. And going grocery shopping? Making dinner? Not that I mind making dinner for Zoe and Emily since they've been so kind to us, but… Was that supposed to be some sort of super secret signal for us to leave?"

Molly grinned. "It worked, didn't it? It got us out of there." She shivered. "That man looked like a nice old dude, but he was giving me the creeps."

"Winston? He seemed harmless."

Molly looked doubtful. "Except he said Jeremy had been shot and made that remark about Jeremy taking some time to die. Why would he say that if he didn't know for sure that's what happened?"

"He also mentioned Jeremy being stabbed, hanged, poisoned, and a bunch of other murder methods. He might've just been repeating the rumors floating around town."

"I don't know. He seemed really serious when he was talking about Jeremy getting shot."

Grace took a breath, then nodded. "I know. I felt the same way. When he started talking about the other ways rumors have Jeremy dying, I was wondering whether he was repeating what he'd heard or trying to muddy the water after slipping up. Of course, we won't know if he's even right about the gunshot until after Maverick gets the autopsy report. I mean, I saw the body. We both did. It looked like a gunshot to me, but I've only ever seen them in movies."

"Me, too." Molly sighed. "But he looks like such a nice old dude, even if he gave me the creeps."

"Even nice creepy old dudes can lose their tempers when they've been cheated out of a lot of money." Grace took Molly's hand. "Hey, your hands are like ice. Let's get you a pair of gloves. Me, too, while we're at it. There's a gift store up ahead."

They ducked into the store and quickly found gloves — a pair of blue for Grace, and a pair of deep pink for Molly. Grace purchased them over Molly's objections, and they left wearing the gloves.

"I really do need to get to the field to retrieve my truck," Molly said. "I don't want to have to ask Mom and Dad for help. I need the truck to get around town and find a new job."

"You have a job. As of this moment, you're officially working for me as my assistant. Pay is standard for the industry, and benefits are included, of course."

"Grace, you don't need to do that!"

"Yes, I do. I need you with me while we figure this thing out," Grace said. "You heard Maverick. We're still not in the clear. I'm not going to sit around and wait for her to serve me with an arrest warrant for murder just because she couldn't find the person who actually did it."

"She's not incompetent, Grace. She's just doing things by the book. Besides, it can be dangerous. We've already been in a hit-and-run."

"I know, but we don't know if that was on purpose or just an accident. Besides, if we can find out whodunnit first, then that's less time I need to be worrying about whether I need to retain us legal counsel, and more time I can spend thinking of ways to kiss you senseless."

Molly turned as pink as her gloves and grinned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Grace said and winked at her.

"Then I say we leave my truck where it is until tomorrow, go home, and test out some of your, um, theories. The list of suspects can wait a while as far as I'm concerned."

***

Zoe and Emily had left a note saying they'd taken Lily to the park. The house was empty, which was a boon as far as Grace was concerned.

Grinning like a pair of schoolgirls, Grace and Molly stampeded up the stairs to their room. They quickly shrugged out of their outer clothes, then, a bit more hesitantly, shyly, shed everything else.

Once stripped of everything but their pride, they paused, looking at each other.

Molly was stunning.

She was the opposite of Grace's tall, willowy form.

She was shorter than Grace and curvy, with breasts Grace knew would fit perfectly in her hands. Her skin was milky white and freckled. Her waist dipped in, and her hips flared in the very definition of Rubenesque. She had what Grace liked to think of as "cheerleader" legs. Sturdy, muscled, and strong.

Grace sucked her lower lip in over her teeth and tried to decide how to proceed. Should she try to seduce Molly? Be timid and gentle? Or be bold, and sweep her off her feet?

She really liked Molly, and instinctively knew it was the sort of feeling that had the potential to grow into something deeper and meaningful if nourished. She wanted that in her life, and she wanted it with Molly.

Molly had said she was bisexual, but how much experience did she have with lesbian lovers? More than anything, Grace didn't want to screw this moment up.

She needn't have worried.

Molly launched herself across the room and jumped on Grace, wrapping her good arm around Grace's neck and her legs around Grace's waist.

She sought out Grace's mouth, kissing her deeply, tongue sweeping and sliding over Grace's. Molly tasted of mint — wintergreen, fresh and sweet.

Her body, pressed up against Grace's was warm and soft. Grace held her while she fell back on the bed, enjoying how every inch of Molly's body against hers felt.

"Watch your arm," Grace whispered when Molly allowed her to come up for air. "It's still broken, remember."

"I'm fine. Shut up and make love to me."

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said and rolled them over so she could straddle Molly's legs. She licked her lips, her gaze roaming over Molly, trying to memorize every inch of her, map every freckle.

Her breasts were plump, her areoles and nipples dark pink. bending down, Grace took one in her mouth, suckling, letting her tongue swirl around it until it hardened.

Gently, gently, minding both of their bruising from the accident, Grace leaned her weight on her left arm, and took Molly's other breast in her right hand, squeezing and kneading it gently, loving the way the soft flesh felt under her palm.

Molly's hand, the one not in the cast, was busy as well. It slid over Grace's leaner frame, playing with Grace's breasts, before slipping down between Grace's legs.

One finger slid into Grace's opening, and Grace moaned. She began to ride that finger, letting Molly's palm rub against her clit, her orgasm building. It'd been so long since… Then it was there, shrieking through her like a missile, her back arching and her voice calling out her pleasure to the ceiling.

"Oh, my God. That was amazing. That was beautiful. You're beautiful," Molly breathed. She brought the finger so recently plumbing Grace's depths to her lips, tasting Grace on it.

"Now you," Grace said, a little breathless yet from the power of her orgasm. She slid down until her mouth could reach the dark curls at Molly's mound. Using her fingers to separate Molly's folds, she licked and suckled at the tiny nub hidden there, delighting in the mewls and moans she drew from Molly.

Molly's hips began to rock, signaling she was getting close. Grace slicked two fingers and slid them into Molly's body, twisting them and pumping them while she continued to suck Molly's clit.

When Molly came it was with a strangled scream and an arched back. Grace could feel Molly's body lift off the bed and rubbed her clit with those slick fingers until Molly peaked again.

Exhausted, Grace rolled off Molly and they lay side-by-side on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

"Holy shit," Molly mumbled. Her body was beaded with sweat, and she was trembling. "It was never like that before. I didn't know it could be so…intense. Twice."

"Twice," Grace mumbled. "Nap time?"

"Shouldn't we put clothes on?"

"You can. I can't move right now," Grace answered.

"Yeah. I don't think I can, either." She reached for the comforter and pulled it over the two of them. "There. That's good enough. If anybody comes in, at least we're decent."

"Oh, honey. I don't think we'll ever be decent again if I can help it."

Molly laughed, but it sounded far away. Grace was already slipping off to sleep.