Chapter 8

Grace had no idea how many hours passed before Sheriff Maverick paid her a visit. It was hard to tell time in the ER, and she didn't have her phone, although she was dozing when her visitor came in. For all she knew, it could've been the following morning.

` ? "Did you find out who hit us?" Grace blinked, bleary-eyed, and asked before Maverick could say a word.

"No, not yet. We've talked to everyone we could find. A few people heard the bang of the collision, and a few people saw the other vehicle – another pickup truck, black – but it sped off before anyone could get a good video of it."

"Damn it! How many dented black trucks are in this town? Somebody tried to kill us, Sheriff."

"First, we're looking at black trucks in the area, but there's no proof it's still in town or visible from the street. Second, we don't know if it was done on purpose. It could have been just a normal, run-of-the-mill hit-and-run. Happens all the time."

"Right after somebody is murdered in my hay maze? And that person turns out to be one Jeremy Prada, who ran a Ponzi scheme?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Molly told me. She wasn't involved in it, and left him because he was basically as weasel wearing a man suit. But he was a con man, Sheriff. I think he conned the wrong person this time." Grace put a hand to shield her eyes. "Would you mind dimming the light? My head is killing me."

Maverick did as she was requested.

"How did he die, anyway? Was he shot? Stabbed?" Grace asked.

Maverick shook her head. "We're withholding releasing that information until after the autopsy report comes in. Listen, I heard you've been to see Ginny Windom."

"Wow, news travels at the freaking speed of light in this town. Yes, we went to her store. Vintage stuff from the eighties. Really cool. I bought a pair of leg warmers. They're in the truck if you don't believe me."

"I know all about the leg warmers. Are you saying you wandered into her store completely by accident? Ginny also happened to have invested with Albert Herves in Jeremy Prada's Ponzi scheme. Listen, your alibi and Molly's have proved out, but there's still a time gap you can't account for. You both say you were sleeping, and I'm inclined to believe you, especially after today's accident. But if I catch you trying to run your own investigation and getting in the way of mine, I'll haul your ass in so fast you'll break the sound barrier."

Grace frowned. "So what are we supposed to do? Just sit around and wait for somebody to kill us, too?"

"Why would anybody want to kill you?"

"Because they think Molly knows more than she does. Like who was in on the Ponzi scheme with Jeremy? Or that she was in it with him and knows where the money is buried?"

"Does she?"

"Of course not!" Grace huffed.

"I really don't, Sheriff," Molly said, appearing in the opening of the cubicle. Her arm was wrapped in bright purple plaster gauze.

"Oh, hon. It was broken, huh?" Grace asked.

"Yeah. Six weeks in a cast, I'm afraid," Molly answered. She looked at the sheriff. "I really don't know anything. When I found out Jeremy was conning people, I left him. I haven't spoken to him in a year. I heard he was in trouble with the Ponzi scheme thing from my folks, who still live in Denver. If you really want to know, I don't even understand what a Ponzi scheme is — I don't even know what a Ponzi is. It sounds like some sort of exotic fruit."

Sheriff Maverick sighed. "It's when you take on investors promising high returns with little risk, then bring in new investors and use their money to pay the old investors. It takes more and more investors to pay the existing investors, and eventually, the system collapses. The people running it are the only ones who make money, and maybe the first or second tier of investors. It's named after a guy named Charles Ponzi."

"See? I had no idea." Molly sat on the edge of Grace's bed.

"How did you find out about Ginny Windom?" Maverick asked Molly.

"From my roommates. And you might as well know my folks made some money with him. They didn't know it was a Ponzi scheme – they thought the investments were legitimate. I talked to them after I heard the news from my roommates."

"I want a list of other names your folks may have mentioned as having invested with Prada."

Molly nodded. "Sure. It's not a long list." She turned to Grace. "They released me last night. Are they going to keep you another night?"

Well, that answered the question of how long Grace had been in the ER. "Nope. I'm being set free. I have a prescription to pick up at the pharmacy, then I'm out of here."

Molly smiled. "Good. I'm glad."

Maverick cleared her throat. "I spoke to your two roommates, Molly. They confirmed you were in the house the night of the murder, but they don't seem too thrilled with you going back there."

"I'm not. I'm staying with Grace at Zoe and Emily Callahan's house until I can find an apartment."

Maverick cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Are you moving in together already? I thought you just met the day of the murder?"

"It's not like that, Sheriff. This is just for safety's sake. Molly is out of a place to live, and she's been put on leave from her job, too. Until she gets back on her feet and finds an apartment, she's going to stay with me. Molly is going to be my roommate, that's all."

"Ah, I understand. Well, if I hear of any apartments opening up, I'll let you know. Until then, remember, keep your sleuthing to mystery books, okay?" Maverick touched the brim of her hat and walked outside the cubicle.

Grace held her finger to her lips, indicating Molly should stay silent. She was sure Sheriff Maverick would be listening outside, at least for a few minutes. "I hope the nurse hurries with that prescription. It may be a while — I don't think I'm the favorite person in the ER right now."

Molly chuckled. "So I hear. That's what you get for escaping your bed against orders."

"Yeah, I guess it was sort of stupid of me, but I was really worried about you and they wouldn't tell me anything. By the way, neither of us can drive, which is just as well because we don't have a vehicle. My truck got towed away —I'm betting it's totaled — and yours is at Zoe and Emily's. We'll have to Uber to Zoe and Emily's house."

As Molly nodded, the nurse walked in with Grace's release papers. After a few terse words about aftercare for concussions — the nurse was obviously not happy with Grace — they were free to go.

They walked — slowly, since Grace was still feeling a bit woozy and dizzy — to the pharmacy, where they picked up their prescriptions. Then they went outside the hospital, sat on a bench, and Grace realized she didn't have her phone. There was no way to call for an Uber. "Ugh. My phone was in the charger on the truck dash. It's probably still there."

"That's okay." Molly said with a smile. She dug in her back pocket with her good arm and pulled out her phone, a triumphant grin on her face. "Here we are. I have the Uber app on it, too." Within a few minutes, they had an Uber X on the way. "Three minutes, and we'll be out of here, Grace."

"Sounds like a fine plan. Also, I'm starving. Weren't we on our way to get lunch?"

"Yeah, but I think we should go home. Maybe order in some food. You look a little too pale. You need to rest."

Grace nodded and smiled. "I feel like |I got hit by a truck…oh wait. I did."

Molly laughed, and they waited, chatting mostly about inane things — how harsh winters got in Summit Springs, the Halloween Festival that would now be short a hay maze, and the like. They avoided any reference to the murder, their visit to Ginny Windom, and the accident. As paranoid as it might sound, Grace knew one could never be sure about who might be listening.

The driver, a jovial man named Jorge, decided they needed a running commentary on politics, the state of free lunch in schools, and what prime-time shows were worth watching, and he did an admirable job of keeping them entertained all the way to Zoe and Emily's house.

"Oh, my God! What happened to you?" Zoe cried at the first sight of Molly's broken arm, but before she knew Grace had also been injured.

"We got involved in a hit-and-run. Somebody crashed into us. I broke my arm and got a little banged up, but Grace got the worst of it. She has a concussion," Molly explained.

"Damn. Grace, get up to bed. You, too, Molly. You can both probably use the rest. Emily!" Zoe called out for her wife. "Emily, the girls are hurt."

Emily came running into the room, carrying Lily. "What happened?"

"They got hit, and the other car drove away. Molly broke her arm, and Grace has a concussion. I'm sending them both up to bed. Could you watch Lily while I go get them settled in?"

"We're fine, Mom. We can find our way to our room," Grace said with a slight chuckle.

Zoe lifted her chin but grinned. "Well, someone has to take care of you. Now, scoot! I'll bring you up some tea and biscuits. And soup. Soup is always good for injured people."

Grace objected to the coddling. "You don't have to do that—"

"I'm doing it anyway." Zoe was adamant.

Emily laughed, and propped Lily up against her shoulder, patting her back. "You might as well let her do what she wants. She'll do it anyway, like she said."

Grace and Molly laughed along with Zoe and Emily and did as they were directed. They went upstairs, kicked off their shoes, and lay down on the bed.

"Why don't we get changed into our pajamas?" Molly asked. "I don't think Zoe will let us out of the house today, and you really need to rest a few days anyway. You go first, and I'll go next."

Grace's first impulse was to argue, but then she realized Molly was right. She really did have a massive headache, and she was bone tired. "Okay." With a great effort, she rolled off the bed and grabbed her pajamas from the dresser. She disappeared into the bathroom and changed, then returned.

"Your turn…" She grinned at the sight of Molly sound asleep on the bed. Molly looked so soft and angelic, so sweet, her lips curved ever so slightly with whatever dream she was having, it awakened a need in Grace to kiss those full lips. Instead, she grabbed the comforter from the foot of the bed and pulled it up over Molly. Then, with a great sigh, shecarefully lay down on the other side and closed her eyes.