“No catch. Cheyenne, you don’t have to decide right this minute. You can let him know on Monday.”
Cheyenne raised her chin and regarded Molly with wide, wary eyes.
“She’ll be in touch with you, Trevor. Like I said, it’s up to her.”
Finally noticing the party guests who avidly watched the drama, he lowered his voice. “How will I know you won’t tell her what to do?”
“Because she means it.” Cheyenne turned to face her father, standing on Molly’s side of the invisible line. “It’s my decision. I’ve actually been thinking about your offer since you mentioned it last night, Trevor. It sounds great, but I like my school. As for visiting you, I think I’d like to take things slow and see what happens.”
Trevor’s expression was inscrutable. He nodded, glanced around the room, and sighed. “I just—I don’t understand. It’s a great school.”
“She’s made her decision, Trevor.” Molly gave Cheyenne’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Trust her. I do.” They exchanged smiles and Molly knew they were going to be all right.
Trevor’s gaze was bleak. “I guess that’s it then.”
“The party’s not over.” Cheyenne touched his arm tentatively. “I’d like to introduce you to my friend, April. This is her house.”
Molly held her breath, half wanting Trevor to be the cold, self-centered jerk who’d walked out on her fourteen years ago and half wanting him to man up and accept the gift of a second chance Cheyenne was offering him.
His gaze flicked from Cheyenne’s hand on his arm to Molly’s face. She raised her eyebrows, daring him to make a choice.
He swallowed hard and then nodded slightly. “Sure. I’d be glad to meet her.” He took Cheyenne’s hand and they both looked at Molly.
“Ma?”
“Go on. I’ll be fine.” And she meant it.
The closing took a little longer than Anders expected because the real estate agent had brought the wrong keys. They had to wait for another agent to drop them off, but now the keys were in his hands and the house was his. After he saw both agents out, he sat on the plush chenille sofa, taking in his new living room. When his gaze landed on the forty-eight-inch flat screen, he decided that was the first thing that had to go. The couch was okay, but he was upgrading the TV.
When he married Greer, they’d lived in her house, a Malibu mansion on the beach, but this was Anders first home. He took a moment to savor that notion and liked the warm fuzzy feeling that settled in his belly. Obie was going to like it here. Molly would like it too. He ignored the little voice that whispered in the back of his brain and reached for his phone.
After shooting a quick text to Greenlee to let her know he was running late and would meet her and Obie at the party, he got up to close and lock the French doors that opened to the backyard.
The doorbell rang, drawing his head around. He wasn’t expecting visitors. Slipping his phone back into its leather holster, he headed to the front of the house thinking one of the real estate agents had left something behind.
Selena was standing on his doorstep, which was odd because he hadn’t mentioned the house to her. “What are you doing here, Fry?”
“Looking for you. I heard you have my phone.”
“Yeah, but it’s back at the condo.”
“I’ll get it later. We need to talk. Are you going to invite me in?” Dressed in black slacks and a dove gray blouse, she looked like her sharp, efficient self, but something was wrong. There was a slightly shell-shocked look in her eyes.
“Uh. Yeah. Come in.” He stood back and let her pass. “Everything okay?”
When they reached the living room, she spun around. “When were you going to tell me about the house?”
Anders frowned. “Last time I checked, I didn’t have to report to you.”
She dropped her purse on the end table. “Does your manager know?”
“What’s gotten into you lately?” Anders rested his hands on his hips, not liking Selena’s audacity one bit. He’d always written off her presumptuousness as just a quirky personality trait, but she was really crossing the line coming to his home and demanding answers about something that was absolutely none of her business.
“Did you tell the band?” Not one iota of emotion flickered in her eyes. Her jaw was set and her shoulders were rigid.
Anders squeezed his fists in frustration. The woman was impossible. “I just closed on the house fifteen minutes ago. I haven’t gotten around to mentioning it yet. And it doesn’t matter, I’m still gonna finish the tour.”
“How about Molly. Does she know?” Selena’s voice wavered on Molly’s name.
Anders’ gut clenched. “What did you want to talk to me about, Fry?”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a magazine. “Can you read this article and let me know if you’d be willing to do a follow-up interview with the journalist. It will only take a few minutes.”
“I reckon I can.” Anders sighed. “But I need to be quick about it, Obie’s waiting for me. Let me see it.”
When Selena placed the open magazine on the coffee table, her hand trembled slightly. The woman was normally tense, but today she was as jumpy as a jackrabbit. A sad smile tugged at his lips because the silly metaphor made him think of Molly. God, he hoped she was still at the party. He wanted to see her and talk to her, if only for a few minutes. He missed the woman too damn much.
He forced himself to focus on the article. It was nothing new. Just more trash about his relationship with Casey Conway. He’d only gotten to the second paragraph when a metallic clicking noise crackled to life a foot from his left ear. His head came up, and he caught his reflection in the darkened television screen. Selena was standing close to him, holding something that looked like an oversized remote control. She shoved it against his neck.
Agonizing pain darted through his body. His muscles tensed and he lost control, jerking violently. He fell forward and landed hard on the floor between the coffee table and the couch an instant before everything went black.
Molly stopped a maid who was hustling past her with a dustpan and broom. “The line to the bathroom is ridiculous. Is there another one I could use?”
The frazzled woman pointed. “In the library. Through the living room and down the hall. The second door on the right.”
“Thanks.”
Molly was careful not to bump into anything as she cut through the living room. Everything was white from the marble furniture and the leather sofas to the accents and knickknacks. If it was her living room, that area rug would’ve been spotted with Merlot or spaghetti sauce within the first week. The house was gorgeous, but it was too big and pretentious for Molly’s taste. She liked to wear high fashion not sit on it.
She found the door to the library and went inside.
“Wow,” she whispered, tilting her head back to take in the room, which was open in the middle to the second floor. “Cheyenne would just die.”
Packed with books, the white shelves on all four walls stretched to the ceiling. On the main floor, two white leather chairs with footrests sat at an angle facing an electric fireplace. The bathroom was to Molly’s left next to a spiral staircase leading to a catwalk that wrapped around the room’s perimeter mid-way up.
She had to get a picture of this for Cheyenne. After using the toilet, Molly snapped a few shots with her phone. Deciding she needed to get an aerial view too, she climbed the spiral staircase and made her way around the narrow walkway to find the best angle.
She’d taken two pictures when footsteps below made her freeze. How embarrassing would it be to get caught nosing around April’s house like a poor relation? Molly stepped back, flattening herself against the wall.
Jonas came into the room. He was the last person Molly was expecting to see. Clad in black, he wore a holstered gun strapped across his chest. He carried a book under his arm. As he crossed the room to return the thick hardback to its place on the shelf, his tattoos peeked out of the back of his shi
rt collar. He didn’t look like a reader, but he seemed even less like the type to go around tidying up after other people.
“You’re back.” April came into the room and closed the door.
Jonas turned around. The stony expression on his face slipped for a moment, displaying his surprise.
Molly stretched on her toes to peek at April. She wore a hot pink satin slip dress that clung loosely to her slender, curvy frame and a pair of matching platform heels. Her long, white-blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a sexy, careless up-do.
She stopped a few feet away from him. “I haven’t seen you around the house since before I went to Paris.”
He frowned. “Are you following me?”
The edge to his low, raspy voice made alarm bells go off in Molly’s head.
“I was looking for my cat.” April made a half-hearted effort to check the room. “He sneaks in here sometimes. My stepmom has a fit because he uses the books as scratching posts.”
“He isn’t here.” Jonas started for the door, but she stepped into his path making him pull up short.
When they stared at each other a few seconds too long, Molly’s heart stopped. What are you doing, April? Talk about putting your fingers in the fire. Jonas might be an ex-con or he might be a crazy special forces ninja. That didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. The last time Molly saw him, he’d killed a man. Seeing April and Jonas together was like watching a fluffy white kitten toy with a snarling wolf. At any moment, the beast was going to snap.
“You have a habit of disappearing on me.” April twirled an escaped strand of blonde hair around her finger.
“Maybe you should take the hint.”
Yes, please take the hint, April. Molly wanted to shout, but she forced herself to keep quiet. It wasn’t her place to interfere. She glanced to her left and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a pair of blue eyes staring at her from the bookshelf near her head. A fat orange tabby cat was squeezed into a tight space. Removing her hand from her pounding heart, Molly gestured to the cat to be quiet. It blinked at her with disinterest, then put its head down and went back to sleep.
“I saw you return a book to the shelf.” April gestured with her chin. “What were you reading?”
He ignored the question and started around her again.
“Wait.” She grabbed his arm.
The touch was like a spark igniting an explosion. Jonas spun her around and slammed her up against the bookshelf hard enough to make some of the books on the higher shelves fall.
Molly’s heart dropped and she started around the catwalk, intent on rescuing April. The next words out of the girl’s mouth stopped her momentum.
“If you’re going to manhandle me, you better be prepared to kiss me.” A wry smile twisted April’s lips. Pressed back against the bookshelf, she didn’t appear the least bit frightened of the scowling assassin who pinned her arms, holding her immobile. She arched provocatively, offering her healthy, heaving bosom to his face.
Molly held her breath, waiting for the rabid dog to take the bait. Again, April and Jonas stared at each other a shade too long. Something crackled in the atmosphere around them. The tiny hairs on the back of Molly’s arms stood on end and she shivered.
Jonas let go of April so abruptly she teetered sideways on her high heels before catching herself on the bookshelf. He left the room without looking back.
April stared after him, a disappointed frown wrinkling her brow. Then she sighed and followed him out the door.
Molly relaxed and finally remembered to breathe again.
Wow.
It wasn’t Molly’s place to give April Linus advice. The teenager was Molly’s employee and her daughter’s friend but, oh my goodness, somebody had to do it. April’s stepmother certainly didn’t set the best example for the girl. After all, she was the person to thank for the teenager’s enormous breast implants. Molly had never said anything about it out loud, even to Cheyenne, but Molly thought April’s “birthday gift” from her stepmother had been wildly inappropriate for an eighteen-year-old girl. April was lovely. She didn’t need cosmetic improvements to make her sexier or womanlier or whatever the motivation had been behind the boob job. April needed some unsolicited advice from a responsible adult about Jonas, and Molly was going to give it to her.
What would Anders think of this? She wanted to tell him what’d she’d just seen, but they didn’t have that kind of relationship anymore. For all she knew, he was already halfway back to Nashville right now. She fought off a wave of sadness and made her way back down to the first floor.
Checking that the coast was clear, she slunk out of the library. She cut through the living room just as Philip Linus himself was coming down the open staircase.
“Miss MacBain, wonderful to see you. May I have a word before we join the party?” He met her in the foyer. Linus was a short, slender man of about fifty. Not handsome, but not ugly either. His dark brown hair was as neat and precise as the custom-fit gray business suit he wore. An invisible cloud of expensive cologne hovered around him.
“Uh, sure.” She hated to admit, she was slightly intimidated by the real estate tycoon and surprised he knew her name.
He guided her back into the living room. “The incident that happened here a week ago. I know your daughter witnessed it. I wanted a chance to explain.”
Alarm flickered in Molly’s chest. She looked over her shoulder to make sure Trevor wasn’t lingering within earshot. She lowered her voice, hoping Linus would follow suit. “You do?”
Linus nodded and his voice lowered a fraction. “The man who was killed—Richard Vanlith—he was a dear friend.” Linus looked down as if his friend’s death still pained him, but when he looked up again, his dark, wily eyes were clear. “Richard had stopped by that night unannounced, not an uncommon thing for him to do, but I had to cut the visit short because I was taking April on a surprise birthday trip to Paris. Because of the nature of Richard’s business, he had enemies and Wade was hired to eliminate him. Unfortunately, your daughter witnessed the hit.”
Something didn’t ring true about his story. “I’m, uh, sorry for your loss.”
“I thought you might be curious as to why the incident hasn’t been publicized.”
“I did wonder why I haven’t heard anything about it in the news.”
“That’s because I asked the local police to keep the investigation quiet. I assume you didn’t report your daughter’s disappearance because you found her yourself and didn’t want her involved in any more trouble?”
Molly looked over her shoulder again, nervously smoothing the front of her top. A small group of people chatted in the dining room on the other side of the entryway, but Trevor was nowhere in sight. “Yes, that was the reason. I’d still like to keep her out of it if that’s all right with you?”
“I understand your concern. As a parent, I would do everything in my power to protect April and do what’s best for her.”
“I’m concerned about the people who hired the hitman. Do you think Cheyenne is still in danger?”
Linus shook his head negligently. “She’s safe. Wade was trying to clean up after himself, but now it doesn’t matter because he’s dead.” Molly must have appeared skeptical because he leaned closer and lowered his voice a bit more. “Look, I’m acquainted with the person who employed Wade for the hit, Ms. MacBain. He assured me he has no interest in hurting innocent children who pose no threat to his organization.”
Was the word of a criminal even worth anything? She wasn’t so sure, but she and Cheyenne couldn’t live their lives looking over their shoulders. Molly felt queasy and relieved at the same time. “Have you told the police about all this?”
“It’s not necessary. They’ve closed their case file on the investigation since the actual killer is dead. I sent one of my men to track Wade down and bring him back to the States so justice could be served, but there was a standoff in the Bahamas and my man was forced to shoot Wade in self-defense.”
Did he really not know what went down in Nassau? Or was this just the version he’d told the police? Molly swallowed the lump in her throat as Linus took her hand and patted the back of it.
“I’m relieved you got your daughter back safely. Cheyenne is a lovely little girl and a good influence on my daughter. I approve of their friendship immensely.”
Molly’s cell phone chirped and vibrated in her purse with an incoming text message. She ignored it. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done, Mr. Linus. As long as my daughter is safe, I’m willing to follow your lead on this and put this whole mess behind us. And Cheyenne will do the same. I’ll ask her not to mention anything to April about what happened.”
Molly still sensed something off about Linus’ story. Would the police really keep something like this on the down-low just because a rich guy asked them to? She guessed when you had enough money, you could do what you wanted however you wanted, and people didn’t ask too many questions.
He squeezed her hand and then let it go. “I would appreciate that. I don’t want to upset April. Richard was a dear friend to her mother as well.” Linus’ cell phone rang. He reached into the breast pocket of his coat to retrieve it. “I have to take this. Please excuse me and enjoy the party.”
A little taken aback by his abrupt departure, Molly watched him head in the direction of the library. Then she remembered her own phone and the text message that had come in while they were talking. She pulled it out of her bag and swiped the screen.
The text was from Anders.
Her stomach lurched. Why was he texting her? She tapped on the message to open it and then grew impatient while it took a moment to load. It said: Hey, Molly, closed on the house. How about you skip out on the party and help me christen the place like we did last night? ;) -A
What the hell was he talking about? What house? Molly frowned. Did he buy a house? And why was he acting like everything was fine between them when that couldn’t be farther from the truth?
She texted him back. Where are you?
The doorbell rang, and Molly only half noticed the maid who rushed to answer it. Greenlee Fiori, Obie’s nanny, came through the door holding Obie’s hand. Molly’s heart thumped against her chest. So, Anders was still in town. Her relief was replaced by confusion. What kind of game was he playing? And why was he buying houses in Key West if he was supposed to be leaving town?
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