Free Diner Impossible (A Rose Strickland Mystery) by Terri L. Austin

Annabelle’s miserable, it has a trickledown effect.” Her tone wasn’t angry. It had leaped over anger and plunged right into scathing.
    I hesitated over the next question. But I had to ask. “Do you think your dad killed her?”
    She gave me a grin that was far too jaded. “Possibly. Probably. Why do you care?”
    I crossed my legs and got comfortable. “Because Delia didn’t deserve to be murdered. Not even if she was boning your dad.”
    She was quiet a moment as she peeled back the towel and glanced at her bloody handiwork. “My dad’s a dick.”
    “For sure.”
    Her eyes flew to mine. “Most people tell me not to say that. That he’s my dad and I owe him respect.”
    “Most people say a lot of crap that’s not important. And your dad is a total dick.”
    She nodded. The snotty teenage attitude disappeared. In that brief moment, I saw the vulnerability she tried to hide. “He treats my brother like shit.”
    “Because of the drugs?”
    “Yeah, but more than that. He’s ashamed of him. Calls Mason a little faggot, says he needs to act like a real man. Mason pretends like he doesn’t care, but he does. He was ashamed of me, too. When I had bulimia. He never wants to deal with any of it. And my mom. She’s doped up on anti-anxiety meds all day. She’s like a wisp of smoke, you know? Present, but not really there. She wants to pretend that we’re this perfect little family, shiny and pretty from the outside. She doesn’t care if we’re rotting on the inside.”
    Despite her defensiveness, not only did I pity Molly, I liked her. And I recognized myself in her, too. The biting snark, the anger. I never cut or starved myself, but I’d been an angry teen, anxious to get away from my mother’s overbearing influence. I just hoped Molly got out before it was too late.
    “I hear you’re headed to college.”
    She shrugged. “In the fall.”
    “You don’t seem very excited.”
    “I don’t want to go. I’d rather head to Florida or California. Somewhere sunny. This music program is intense. The competition, the expectations to be perfect.” She shook her head. “Whatever.”
    “Can I give you a piece of advice?”
    She twisted her lips to the side and remained mum.
    “Just get out of here and do what makes you happy. Stop cutting and trying to be perfect for them. Go to school where you want and don’t come back.”
    “I can’t do that,” she said. “I have to think of Mason. I can’t leave him alone with them.” She scraped her nails up and down the bedspread. “Is that what you did? Just stopped trying to be perfect?”
    “Yeah. Except I stayed in Huntingford.”
    “Why? Why stay in this shit town when you could break free, live wherever you want?”
    “My nephew, Scotty, is here. I’m in love with that little guy. And my friends are here. I can’t imagine life without them.” It sounded a little sappy to my own ears, even though it was all true. Life without Scotty, Ma, Roxy, Ax? Unthinkable. And then there was Sullivan.
    “Sorry I have to ask this, Molly, but what were you doing last Sunday night?”
    A smile broke across her face. “You think I killed the bitch? Hate to disappoint, but I was having my therapy session. You can call him and ask. Dr. Handley. He’s teaching me how to ‘work through my issues.’” Her tone was so disparaging, I almost cringed. “And then I came home and my mom watched me eat dinner. She hovered over me while I ate, watching every bite and mentally counting every calorie I put in my mouth. Then I played the piano for three hours and went to bed.”
    “Was your dad home?”
    “No, thank God. And before you ask, I don’t know where he was. Nor do I give a fuck.”
    “What about Mason?”
    “He’d just gotten home from rehab that afternoon, totally exhausted. He went straight to his room and stayed there all night.”
    “Thanks.” As I looked at her sitting there, the towel now discarded and dropped to the floor, I wanted to bundle her up