Free Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery by Elaine Flinn Page B

virtually empty. It was past serving time for many of the restaurants, and few cars remained. Molly’s eyes widened, Emma pulled the collar of her T-shirt up over her nose, and Randall said, “What the hell? Do you smell what I think I smell?”
    Molly and Emma wrinkled their noses. “Smells like skunk,” Molly said.
    Emma shrugged. “Is that what a skunk smells like?”
    “It’s a damn skunk, all right.” Randall moved a few steps, then the grin on his face turned sour. “Stay here.” He approached Molly’s pickup, then stepped back. “Did you lock this thing?”
    Molly had a feeling she was about to get another lecture. “Probably not. Don’t tell me—”
    “You got it. It’s coming from the El Camino, and I can see the perpetrator from here.” He drew closer, then said, “Don’t move. You’ve also got four flat tires.” He pulled his cell out and called the station. “Get a towing service and Animal Control over to Daria’s. We’ve got a vandalized vehicle with a live skunk in it. Stop laughing and just send a damn patrol over to write this up. I’ll be waiting.”
    “Don’t chew your nails, Aunt Molly,” Emma said.
    “It’s better than screaming,” Molly said.
    Emma asked Randall, “How come you didn’t say ‘perp’?”
    “They only say that in mysteries. Real cops speak the King’s English. Especially here in Carmel.”
    Emma laughed. “Baloney. You’re just trying to make jokes so Aunt Molly won’t pound her fists or throw things.”
    “We’re outside,” Molly said. “There’s nothing to throw.” She leaned back against a storefront window and closed her eyes. She thought about last week when life was calm and good. When all she had to worry about was selling merch, making sure Emma did her homework, providing the cats with food, water, and a clean litter box, and hoping Carla Jessop liked her proposal. Did it all go to hell last Sunday? Yes, it was Sunday. And it started with Todd Jessop. Molly moved away from the shop and stood by Randall. She kept her voice low so Emma couldn’t hear. “What do you make of this?”
    “If I were a dumb cop, I’d say it was kids pulling a prank. The M.O. is classic. And I’d say your pickup was a random choice.”
    “But, since all and sundry know you’re not a dumb cop, what say you?”
    “You want the truth, or the real truth?”
    “Either one will do. Do you think it was Jessop?”
    “The truth is yes and no. Yes, I think Jessop was behind it. No, he didn’t physically do it. He’s too smart for that, and he’s a city boy. He has no clue how to trap a skunk. The real truth is, it could be just vandalism.”
    Carmel proper is a small village of three-thousand-plus inhabitants. The downtown area of approximately ten square city blocks is even smaller. It only took five minutes for a patrol unit to arrive. When the officer got out of his car, his head jerked back. “Whoa! What is that? Smells like a skunk. So, this is why you wanted Animal Control?”
    “Excellent deduction, Wilkins,” Randall said. “I didn’t think you wanted to net the little critter.”
    Officer Wilkins nodded to Molly. “Sorry about your pickup. Did you see who did this?”
    “No,” Molly said. “But if I had, you’d be calling the M.E. now. The bastard would be dead meat.”
    “Don’t put that in the report, okay?” Randall said.
    Wilkins grinned. “If you say so.” He opened his notebook, took out a pen and made a tour of the pickup. “Pretty thorough key job, too. Someone’s got a bone to pick with you, huh? Sell him a phony antique, or something?”
    That was all Molly needed. “That’s not funny, Wilkins. You need to work on your humor.”
    “Stay here until the tow truck comes. I’m taking the ladies home,” Randall said.
    “Where do you want it towed?”
    “To the station. I want it dusted,” Randall replied.
    “Huh?”
    Randall turned so fast, the young officer had to step back. “Are you deaf?”
    Molly was surprised to