✽✽✽
She expected to sleep in, but her hunger woke her. She wasn’t as ravenous as she’d been the night before, but her stomach growled insistently. Fathi was awake when she climbed down the stairs, but he was in the middle of his morning prayers. She did not disturb him.
The kitchen had a few of Wulfric’s sausages left in stock, but the cooking process seemed daunting. The same with the pancake mix which had appeared in her kitchen. She decided on another peanut butter sandwich to tide her over. With luck, one of her houseguests would do the cooking.
She started the coffee pot and swallowed her sandwich in a handful of bites. Before she finished, she heard Wulfric on her basement stairs. He and Fathi appeared a few moments later.
“Good morning, liebchen. What shall we make you for breakfast?”
He still looked weary, though less grey than the night before. Molly made a spontaneous decision.
“We are going out for breakfast today. My treat. I feel like a lumberjack special, and I’m not making you work for it after the night you had.” She turned to Fathi. “I know that won’t be a ton of fun for you, going out to eat with your jaw.”
He grinned at her. In broken, mumbled speech he said. “I think I might be able to handle oatmeal.”
“Wow, you do heal quickly.” Molly gave them both a good morning hug and moved past them, heading for the stairs. “I’m going to wake Mom if I can.”
She tapped gently at the bedroom door and opened it. Her mother was sitting up with the pillow against the headpiece. She stared down at an electronic tablet. Buster sat contentedly on the bed, and his tail began to wag as Molly entered.
“Hey, little guy. What are you doing up there?”
Lydia looked up. “I’m sorry. Isn’t he allowed on the bed?”
“Sure he’s allowed. He just never gave any indication that he wanted to come up before.” Molly sat on the bed and patted the Pekingese’s head. “My dog likes you better than me.”
“Don’t be silly, dear.” Lydia looked like she was considering something, and then looked her daughter square in the eyes. “I think I need to say a few things to get them off my chest.”
“Okay.”
She held up her tablet. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Every time I tried to put the book down, I kept picturing that boy’s blood on my hands.”
Molly gave her mother a sympathetic look. She reached out and squeezed her mother’s hand.
“It’s hard for me not to wonder how often you could have been like that, attacked by a madman, bleeding in the streets.”
A matter-of-fact answer seemed the best response to imagined worries. “That was rare for me, Mom. I don’t have many scars from those days because my power made me particularly hard to hurt.”
Lydia seemed to let go of a little bit of tension. “I think I’m beginning to understand why you didn’t tell me. I couldn’t have taken thinking like this for so many years.” She set her face in a stern look. “Understanding does not mean agreement, however.”
“Message received. We’re going out to breakfast. Do you want to come along?”
“That sounds lovely. And I’ll get to try these new clothes your friend sent over.”
Fifteen minutes later, after Molly had downed a double-sized cream-laden coffee, they piled into Molly’s car. The two taller men in the back seat had plenty of legroom with Molly driving and her mother riding shotgun.
Molly normally only had the breakfast menu at American Eats on the weekends. It was an old-school diner, and every dish came with a side of cholesterol. Lydia glanced skeptically at the menu, but Molly’s mouth was watering at the ten-year-old pictures of the food.
Molly ordered first, and the waitress kept a carefully neutral expression. There wasn’t a lumberjack special, but with the a la carte menu, Molly managed a decent approximation. Wulfric ordered a similarly hearty fare, while Fathi was content with grits and Lydia went for a spinach omelet and a bowl of fruit.
Her coffee had kicked in, and Molly excused herself to go to the restroom. Returning, she spotted Beth and her family. Molly waved at Beth, who stood and darted toward Molly. Before she knew it, she ‘d been pushed into the anteroom outside the dining area.
“Is everything okay?” Beth said in hushed tones.
“It’s fine, Beth.” Molly almost laughed.
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I’m having breakfast. There’s only one other diner in this zip code and it’s further out of town. Nothing serious, just a coincidence.”
“Oh.” The girl looked taken aback. “I guess that makes sense. Sorry, things have just been weird. The hotel we were at was supposed to have a continental breakfast, but that turned out to be cereal and milk, and the milk was a little questionable. There was no one at the desk to complain to, so we came here.”
Molly put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Go. Eat. I’m half starving myself.”
They turned and found Sean opening the doorway into the anteroom. Molly’s brain went into overdrive. Being here with Beth could spell trouble. She needed to distract him, and she just happened to have a great idea about bringing that to pass. Molly leapt forward and pulled him into a kiss. Her heart rate accelerated, and she intended to take her time. Sean tried to end the kiss, but he didn’t try all that hard. He soon met her enthusiasm with his own.
Beth had slipped past her back into the restaurant by the time she finished. Sean smiled at her, and she noticed his exhaustion for the first time.
“You look tired.”
“Candle at both ends.”
“I’m surprised you’re here and not in bed.”
Sean shook his head. “I left not long after you did, so I managed a few hours of sleep. Fitful, restless sleep thinking about how I almost died and so did the woman I’m crazy about. I decided I needed to get out of the house, and some decent grub seemed like a good excuse.”
Molly was touched. She felt herself involuntarily leaning in to kiss him again. Instead, he looked over his shoulder. “Why did Hunter Baxter’s sister come rushing up to you and drag you out here like that?”
“Oh, she just wanted to know where I got this sweater.” It was from Heather’s shop, which meant it was pretty fashion-forward by Molly’s standards. She was hoping that whatever made most men genetically uninterested in fashion would dull Sean’s police instincts. Beth did not need Sean catching onto her identity.
His eyes began to narrow, but she was saved by her stomach again. The growl was so loud it almost echoed.
“That is my cue. I need to go see if my breakfast is ready. I’ll call you later.” She was gone before he knew what was happening.
Her breakfast arrived just as she was returning to her seat, and Molly attacked it ruthlessly. The bacon went first, followed by the pancakes and the home fries. Her fork was reaching for the eggs when she felt her mother’s gaze burrowing into her.
“What?”
“Are you pregnant?”
Molly’s eyes became so wide it was difficult to blink. “What? No! Mom!”
Lydia looked relieved, but not abashed. “I wasn’t sure. I ate like that when I was carrying you.”
“Mother, my friends do not want to hear this conversation. I want to hear it even less. I’m not pregnant. I’m hungry.”
“Fine then.”
Molly ignored her mother and finished her eggs and her toast. She washed it all down with a glass of chocolate milk.
“Any more, liebchen? I saw a black forest cake behind the counter. I could split a piece with you.”
Molly thanked Wulfric but shook her head. She was finally full. It felt wonderful.
They took a different route home to avoid the school bus traffic. Molly swung wide to avoid driving by the park and stirring up unpleasant memories for her mother. When she saw the closed sign at La Belle Dame, Molly pursed her lips.
“What is it?” Lydia asked.
“My friend Heather didn’t open her shop today.” Sh
e did her best to shrug while driving. “Maybe not a big deal, but I should check on her. What’s on everybody else’s agenda?”
There was a moment of hesitation. Molly knew her mother had no other plans for the day as she knew no one in the town. Wulfric, a peacemaker by nature, despite his years as a warrior, broke the silence. “Fathi is not permitted to leave town as I understand it, so he will have to intrude on your hospitality a bit further. I can stay or go as need be. I should probably contact Hustle and see if he needs my help.”
“Are you sure you’re up to that?” Molly shot him a quick glance in the rearview.
“I am not at the peak of my abilities, it’s true, but I have some other skills at my disposal.” Molly heard the tinge of peevishness in his voice. Wulfric always wanted to be helpful. It was his nature, and to be fair, he did have almost nine hundred years of tactical experience to fall back on.
Lydia found a new source of worry. “I don’t understand. Is something wrong, Wulfric?”
“Not ‘wrong,’ no. It is as it should be.”
This was an old argument, and Molly realized she would be the one who had to fill her mother in. “At his strongest, I’ve seen Wulfric stop a diesel locomotive, but when he uses his healing powers, it saps away some of that strength. Right now, he’s running low, and I’m concerned for him.”
“And I appreciate it, liebchen, but I am well enough to help.”
Lydia turned in her seat. Apparently, her mothering instincts extended to a man eight hundred and forty years her senior. “Are you sure? How much healing have you really been doing?”
“A good deal, I don’t deny it. After healing Molly last night, my strength is no more than any other man’s, but –”
“What?!” Lydia turned to Molly. “You were hurt?”
“Mom, please don’t shout while I’m driving. I’m okay.” She shot a reproachful look at Wulfric before making the turn into her development. “Am I not supposed to have doctor-patient confidentiality?”
“My powers are meant to be outward signs to spread word of His glory,” Wulfric responded with quiet dignity. “So, no.”
“Molly Meredith Martin…” Lydia began sternly.
“Lydia Alexandria Moran Martin,” Molly shot back, “you can keep the motherly lecturing tone out of this, thank you very much. I was planning on telling you about it, just not right this moment. You didn’t sleep well after the shooting yesterday, and adding this to it didn’t seem like a good idea, especially considering – and let me stress this – that I am fine.”
She pulled into her parking spot and shut off the ignition. “Let’s go inside and start this conversation over.”
✽✽✽
It had taken another half hour to retell the story, and Molly frankly couldn’t wait to get out of her house. She had enough of her own emotional turmoil to handle without managing her mother’s.
Things started going downhill from the mention of the rifle. Lydia barely noted Molly’s use of her powers as being the real reason she wound up in a hospital bed. Lydia began by insisting that Molly quit the investigation. Molly quietly pointed out that she hadn’t been pursuing the investigation, just visiting her boyfriend, who would be dead now if Molly hadn’t gone to see him.
The next demand was that Molly move away from Capetown as the suburb was obviously too dangerous. Molly had attempted to appease her mother by saying she’d give it some consideration at a later point, after the incident wasn’t so fresh. The ploy had not worked. Lydia seized on the fact that Molly hadn’t said no and went so far as to begin to pack a bag for her daughter. Molly had ordered her mother out of her underwear drawer and given up.
She stormed downstairs to find Wulfric and Fathi quietly sipping tea downstairs. She was struck by the feeling that the two of them were silently judging her relationship with her mother. It probably wasn’t fair, but Wulfric had gotten a little testy when she suggested he was too weak to aid in the fight against The Aerialist. It was a tiff she knew they could both settle with a few quick words, but Molly just didn’t have the patience right then.
“I will be at Heather’s.”
She went indirectly, swinging by La Belle Dame first. When she found the store was still closed, her next stop was at the convenience store. She had nursed Heather’s heartaches before today, and she had some venting of her own to get through. Though Molly wasn’t hungry in the slightest, the nachos were part of their ritual for this sort of a chat.
By the time she’d walked up the stairs to Heather’s apartment, the scent of the nacho cheese had done its work, and she was fairly sure she’d be eating herself sick along with Heather.
She rang the doorbell, and Heather opened the door wearing the oversized hockey jersey that was her usual nightshirt. She had a twenty dollar bill in her hand.
“Oh, Molly! I thought you were the pizza delivery guy.”
Molly gave her friend a tired smile and lifted the bag with the plastic container full of cheese. “Will nachos go with that?”
Heather shot a guilty look behind herself. Molly likewise looked, and felt her eyes just about pop out of their socket. Tony Archer, shirtless, was in Heather’s living room, looking out to see what was going on at the door.
“Oh,” said Molly.
Chapter Sixteen
Molly stared stupidly for a moment. Then she calmly took Heather’s hand and placed the bag of nachos inside. “These were for you. I already ate, but I thought you might need them.”
Heather stopped her with a hand on her arm before Molly had gotten two steps. “Are you angry at me?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
“You look upset.”
She shook her head. “It’s my mother. She’s being next to impossible, but we can talk later.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes.” Molly gave Heather a wry look. “There’s awkward, and then there’s ‘Dear Lord, get me out of here.’”
Heather blushed as she smiled. “I stopped at Norm’s Burgers for dinner, and he was by himself in a booth. He looked like I felt, and…” She shrugged.
“You don’t need to explain.” Molly made her expression as reassuring as she could. “I’m surprised, but I’m not concerned. Tony’s good people, and so are you.” She moved her hand to give Heather’s a squeeze. “Call me later.”
She turned and walked away. When the door behind her closed, she quickened her pace and almost flew down the stairs.
Inside her car, she took a moment for reflection. Not that her opinion mattered all that much, but she decided she really was happy for Heather and Tony. There was the age difference to consider, but five years, give or take, wasn’t that big a gap. And yes, Molly thought Heather tended to rush into the physical end of relationships, but Heather always felt Molly was guilty of the converse.
Molly thought back to kissing Sean in the diner earlier today. Distraction or not, it had been memorable. Maybe it was just jealousy that her best friend was getting some action while she wasn’t, but the thought of curling up with Sean and quietly necking was highly appealing.
The plan was not without its tactical faults. She needed to unload some of her emotional baggage, and Sean had his own stress to deal with.
Of course, he also wasn’t the only option she had.
It took only a few buttons on speed dial. “So, I’m parked in my car on Kane Boulevard in Capetown. What are the chances you’d come play hooky with me?”
She turned on the car radio and waited. She figured she had three songs until he arrived. It was only two.
Hustle’s arm was around her shoulder and she leaned across the seat into his familiar embrace.
“You’ve had a rough few days.”
She nodded.
“So what brought this on?”
There was a lot, but after a moment, Molly found the root of the problem. “My mother.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Molly shook her head. “It’s not her fault. I never told her
about my other life because I knew she wouldn’t be able to deal. I wish I could go back in time and keep her from…” She stopped. “That is not a serious wish.”
“I know that.”
“You looked like you were thinking about calling Doctor Chronotron.”
“It crossed my mind,” he admitted, “but he wouldn’t do it.”
“No. He doesn’t like us.”
“What did we do to offend him again?”
She glared at him. “We did nothing. You made a pass at his sister. I was just with you at the time.”
He grimaced guiltily. “I don’t appear to be helping myself here. You mentioned playing hooky?”
Molly nodded. “I don’t have any brilliant ideas to find The Aerialist. Not that the things he’s been pulling don’t merit bringing him down on their own, but he’s also the key to figuring out who shot Matt Nelson.”
“My money’s on him.”
“I’m not disagreeing, but there are inconsistencies too. The point is, I can’t put this investigation to a close without finding The Aerialist. Since I have no ideas there, the only option is to wait for inspiration. Specifically, to wait in my house. With my mother.”
“We have an understanding.” He grinned at her.
“You only grin like that when you think you’ve been particularly clever.”
“In this case, I have, babe.” He kissed her forehead. “Lock up the car, and let me take you somewhere I might be able to solve some of your problems.”
Her eyes couldn’t handle the blur of motion or the wind shear when Hustle carried her, so she buried her head against his chest as she always did. Truth be told, she didn’t love traveling this way. She tried to let it remind her of happier times, but she wasn’t entirely certain they were that much happier.
When the violent motion and G-forces came to a halt, Molly opened her eyes and gasped. She had never expected to be back here.
“Any progress, Grim?”
The Grim Detective didn’t turn back from his seat in front of the monitor to answer Hustle. “Progress, yes, but the work isn’t done. Hello, Etherya.”
Ex-Cape | Book 2 | Ex-Cape From A Small Town Page 23