Mr. Menzel shuffled forward a step. He wore a threadbare yellow button-down shirt and brown slacks rolled up at the cuffs. His teeth were yellow and worn. A few were missing, but since he didn’t trim his brows, it was safe to say Mr. Menzel wouldn’t be getting any implants.
“You with them reporters?” He motioned behind us.
“What reporters?” Axel said.
I glanced behind. Sure enough, the reporters were gone. The sound of wind chimes replaced the talking heads’ chatter.
“Well I’ll be darned.” Mr. Menzel shot a perplexed look to the street. “I swear they were there a minute ago. I hate ’em. Hate every one. They don’t care about Molly. They only care about themselves.”
I stepped forward. “Mr. Menzel, this may not be what you want to hear, but I’m the person who found Molly’s body.”
Tears bubbled in his eyes. Next thing I knew, Mr. Menzel had collapsed on me. He bawled and dragged us inside.
“Come in, all of you. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Jackpot.
When the three of us were situated inside, Mr. Menzel bustled from the kitchen with a tray of cheese and crackers. He also brought a couple of cans of Coke, too.
We each took something. I took the Coke because what the heck, I hadn’t indulged in one for years and every once in a while, who didn’t need a good burp?
He rubbed his knotted hands distractedly. “Molly was a good girl. That’s the first thing I’m going to tell y’all. She was good. Everyone loved her. She was kind, friendly, beautiful. You never met a better soul. Not in your life.”
Axel finished chewing a cracker. “Do you remember what happened the day she disappeared?”
“Like it was yesterday.” Mr. Menzel pointed to a picture. “That’s Evelyn. She was Molly’s mother and my wife. I swear Molly’s disappearance put Evelyn in her grave. It tore away at her, you see. Ate at her heart. She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat.”
He hung his head in sadness. “My Evelyn was never the same person after Molly vanished. It killed her. She never lost hope. Every day she’d wake up and ask me if I thought Molly would come home by dinner. I’d say, ‘Of course, sugar. She’ll be home by then.’ But you know what happened. Molly was dead. Dead and buried in the basement of some house.”
Mr. Menzel rubbed his face. He scratched his whiskers, the sound filling the living room. “I knew Molly wasn’t coming back. I knew it after the first week. She was dead. I never told Evelyn that. Never wanted her to think I’d given up hope, but the truth was, if Molly had been alive, she never would’ve stayed away from this house for longer than one night. Ever. And that’s a fact.”
Silence floated over the four of us. Axel shifted in his seat. The cushion groaned as it protested his advance. “And what about that day? Was there an argument?”
“There wasn’t an argument.” Mr. Menzel bit into a slice of cheese and chewed. “Molly did the same thing she always did: went to school—she was a senior at the high school—then went to her after-school job but never came home. End of story.”
“There are reports that she attended school that day?” Pepper said.
“Yes.” Mr. Menzel sounded exhausted. “And from work, too. But then she left and poof! Vanished. Of course now we know she didn’t vanish but she was in”—his voice broke—“that house the whole time.”
I reached over and squeezed his hand. Mr. Menzel squeezed back. “I’m sorry.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “I just never expected for her to be found. I’m glad she has been, but it doesn’t make this any easier.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” I said gently. “Mr. Menzel, do you know why Molly would’ve been at the Jarvis—I mean, what y’all called the old Gambrell place? Why would she have been there?”
“That’s the easiest part of this whole thing. Molly was found there because that’s where she worked. She cleaned the place for the Hudsons, who owned the bed-and-breakfast.”
My eyes must’ve betrayed my surprise. “She workedthere. The Hudsons were questioned after her disappearance?”
“Yes, they were questioned. But they were such good people that nobody thought anything about it. Oh, there were reports that sometimes Mr. Hudson lost his temper with Mrs. Hudson, but I didn’t believe it. They were always good to us, to Molly.”
“Then one day they disappeared,” I said.
He nodded. “But that was years later. To be honest, I worked so hard to keep Evelyn happy and content that I didn’t care. I figured they were as hurt about the whole thing as we were. They loved her, the Hudsons did.”
He handed me a Coke. “Will you open it for me?”
“Sure.” I did and gave it back.
“The other reason why I never thought much about it was because first of all, it was rumored Mr. Hudson—Jinkins was his first name—was very sick and that’s why they left so quickly. I think I heard somewhere that he died. That’s one thing. The other thing is that there were neighbors on that same street who saw Molly leave the Hudsons’ inn. With their own eyes they saw her walking down the road.”
