by Katie Ruggle
When Cara ended the call with a dramatic poke of her finger a few moments later, Molly gave her an exaggerated double-eyebrow lift over her mug in silent question.
“Barney.” The way she said his name made it sound like it tasted bad. “One of his clients skipped, and he wants us to take the job. I’ve already told him no, but I promised I’d check with you.”
“Barney?” Molly didn’t even need to hear the details. Just knowing the name of the bail bond agent was enough. “No.”
Cara’s mouth curled up in a smug smile as she tapped out a text. From the satisfaction in her expression, she was taking great pleasure in turning Barney down. Molly didn’t blame her. Not only was Barney an amoral slug of a man who would frame his own grandma for murder if it earned him a buck, but he was also condescending enough to make Molly want to punch him in the face every time they met. Even even-keeled Cara, who found something good in almost everyone, couldn’t stand Barney.
Curiosity niggled at her, so she waited until Cara had finished her text before asking, “Who was his skip?”
“Edison Zarver.”
Rearing back, Molly was shaking her head before Cara even got the last name out. “Sonny? Oh, hell no.”
“Right?” Cara gave her phone a disapproving look, as if Barney were able to see her. “There’s no amount of money in the world that’d be worth getting caught up in Sonny Z’s mess.”
Making a wordless sound of agreement, Molly pulled out the chair next to Cara’s. Even a few years ago, when their business was brand new and they’d had to scramble for every possible job just to survive, they’d known enough to stay clear of Sonny. Now that they’d established themselves and paid off the mortgage, they weren’t quite so desperate for work—and they definitely weren’t desperate enough to go after him. “What less life-threatening jobs do we have lined up for the week?”
Working a couple of files out from under her laptop, Cara handed them over. “Take your pick. Charlie’s already snagged the Nina Salas job, and Felicity’s going with her to Thornton today as backup. I have to finish a paper for school, and then I’ll take Fifi’s place, and she can pick up another job.”
Looking up from the first folder, Molly repeated, “Charlie took backup? Does she think there’ll be trouble?”
Cara made a so-so gesture with her hand before stealing Molly’s coffee mug and taking a sip. She made a yuck face. “Oh wow. That’s gross. I always forget how sweet you make it.” Despite her complaints, she took another sip and grimaced again at the taste. “No trouble expected. Since it’d take one of us a while to get there, Charlie wanted someone close by, just in case.”
Reclaiming her mug, Molly held it to her chest protectively. “It’s not gross. It’s perfect.” At Cara’s skeptical grunt, Molly waved off her sister’s criticism. “I’m glad Charlie’s thinking ahead and showing some caution. Sometimes she acts so recklessly, it makes me think she’s missing the fear gene.”
“Yeah, although I think Felicity planted the idea of her coming along.”
“Go, Fifi,” Molly said approvingly. “She may be the baby of the family, but she’s still smarter than the rest of us.”
“And the most tactful…except when she’s torturing us during workouts.”
Holding up her coffee mug in a silent toast to her diplomatic—and only occasionally sadistic—little sister, Molly turned back to the file in front of her. “What’s Norah working on?”
“She’s doing some research on Hans Miller.”
“Alone?” Molly frowned, surprised that Cara had let Norah go off by herself. Most of the time, talking to people’s friends, families, coworkers, and landlords wasn’t dangerous, but there was always a chance something might go wrong. Besides, Norah hated interacting with strangers…and acquaintances…and most people, really. Most of her contribution to their business was tech assistance.
“Settle down. It’s internet research. She walked Warrant to that coffee place she likes,” Cara said, looking a little offended. “First of all, I’d never send her out on her own to talk to people she doesn’t know, and second, she’d never do it even if I told her to.”
“True. Sorry. I should’ve known both of those things. I don’t think my brain is fully awake yet.” She took another sip of coffee to hurry it along.
“So…” Cara’s tone was tentative, and Molly’s spine stiffened, but she kept her gaze on the papers in front of her. She knew what was coming. “About Mom. Don’t you think we should find out where she’s being held?”
“No.” There was no give in her voice at all.
“Shouldn’t we at least find out what she’s done?”
With a negative grunt, Molly flipped over a sheet of paper with a little too much force. “I’m sure everyone we know will be all too gleeful to share that information. Look at how fast Carmondy ran over here to tell us she was picked up again.” As soon as the words were out, she felt a lurch of guilt.
“He wasn’t being spiteful,” Cara said, echoing Molly’s thoughts.
“I know.” Molly sighed, hating this topic of conversation almost more than the previous one. Thinking about John Carmondy made her…twitchy and warm and fidgety. Needing to do something with her hands, she turned over another sheet and stared at it without seeing any of the words. “Why do we still have paper files, anyway?”
“Charlie hates to read anything on her phone.”
Molly, relieved to be talking about something other than John Carmondy—or their mom—asked, “Why doesn’t she use her laptop?”
“She broke it.”
“No, not that one. The new one we ordered for her last month.”
Cara gave her a look. “She broke it.”
“The new one?” Molly’s voice rose, ending in an indignant squeak. “She wrecked another laptop? How? When? Why didn’t she tell me?”
“It was last week, and she didn’t tell you because she’s a chicken and didn’t want to get in trouble. The only reason I know is that I saw the whole thing from my bedroom window. I tried to warn her, but she didn’t hear me until it was too late.”
“What happened?”
With a grimace, Cara explained. “She set it on the roof of her car and forgot it was there. It slid off, and she backed over it.”
Leaning back in her chair, Molly stared at the ceiling for several long moments. “No more computers for Charlie.”
“Strongly agree.”
“She’s already on phone probation. If she loses one more, she’s getting a used, twenty-year-old flip phone.”
Cara giggled at that. “She just gets really focused on tracking down skips and forgets to pay attention to other minor details.”
“Uh-huh,” Molly said dryly. “Minor details like expensive new computers and oodles of phones?”
“Exactly.” One corner of Cara’s mouth tucked in, showing off her dimple. It was the only indication of the smile that she was trying to hold back. Sometimes Molly marveled at how different Charlie and Cara were from each other. Although they were similar in looks, personality-wise they were pretty much opposites.
Molly blew out a long breath, reminding herself that she was lucky to be able to work with her sisters. As different as they were, each one contributed something that the business needed…despite the occasional destroyed laptop.
“Guess we’re keeping the paper files, then.”
Cara’s snort was amused. “Seems like the cheapest way to go.”
They fell quiet as Cara worked on her laptop and Molly skimmed over the contents of the files…or tried to, at least. Her brain wouldn’t settle down, jumping from her mom’s situation to John Carmondy and back until she finally slapped the top file closed, her hand smacking against the table loudly enough to make Cara jump.
“Sorry,” Molly said sheepishly. Standing, she grabbed a file at random, put her coffee mug in the sink, and
headed for the garage door, grabbing her backpack from a hook on the wall.
“I thought you were going to do paperwork today,” Cara said. “You’re not really dressed for chasing anyone. You need to pin that braid of yours up, or someone could use it as a handle. And that dress is no good. If you tackle someone, I guarantee you’re going to be flashing your panties to God and the neighborhood.”
Glancing down at her short sundress and sandals, Molly mentally debated whether to stay or head out, but she knew she’d be pacing the kitchen in minutes if she tried to focus on filing the business’s quarterly taxes. The idea of putting on boots, jeans, and a heavier shirt didn’t appeal, either. The day was already warm, and it wasn’t even midmorning yet. It’d be way too hot for socks, much less denim.
“I promise to do my best to avoid any chasing, tackling, or flashing of my goods.” Making an X over her heart, she gave Cara a reassuring grin. “This is a new job. I’m just going to familiarize myself with the file and possibly check out the skip’s neighborhood. At the very most, I’ll chat with Sergeant Blake to see if she has any interesting tidbits she wants to pass on.”
“Fine.” Cara pursed her lips, somehow managing to look more like a kindly but stern schoolteacher than sour and prissy. “Don’t come crying to me when you have skinned knees and a video of your granny panties is up on YouTube.”
Molly tried for a sober expression, but she couldn’t stop the grin that wanted to break out. When Cara sounded like a crabby auntie, it always made her laugh. “I make no promises about that, although I’ll probably go crying to Norah instead, since she’ll know how to get the video taken down.” Pulling open the door to the garage, she gave Cara her best duck face over her shoulder and flipped her skirt up, showing a flash of underwear. “And I’ll have you know I’m wearing my sexiest Wonder Woman panties, so I’d be proud to show them off on YouTube.”
Cara didn’t look impressed. “So, basically, you’re wearing nerd granny panties.”
“Pretty much, yeah.” Automatically, Molly hit the button on the wall to open the overhead door while digging in the front pocket of her bag for her keys. The motor hummed as the door started to rise, filling the small garage with light, and two things hit her at the same time.
Her keys were missing from her backpack.
And the garage was empty.
Chapter 4
“Cara!” Molly burst back into the kitchen. “What car did Charlie and Felicity take?”
Her eyes wide and startled, Cara stared at her for a fraction of a second before answering. “Charlie’s, I assume. Why?” Before Molly could wrestle her building rage down enough to answer, Cara’s eyes got even bigger. “Oh, no. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She’s in jail.”
She did. Molly wasn’t sure how their mother had managed it, but she—or one of her shady friends—had taken her car. No, Jane had stolen her car. Molly yanked out her cell phone and jabbed at the screen, her fingers shaking with anger and, although she didn’t want to admit it, devastation that her own mother would do something like this to her. Why couldn’t they have ended up with a nice mom, one who’d actually put food in the fridge rather than eating the groceries her kids had bought, one who’d helped her daughter pick out a car to buy rather than stealing her own child’s hard-earned Prius?
“Who are you texting?” Cara asked, her voice tentative and shaky.
After hitting Send, Molly started a second text as she hurried through the living room. “Felicity and Norah. Charlie’s car’s gone, and I know that Norah walked, but I just need to make sure that neither of them have mine before I report it.”
Cara followed her to the window, where they both looked out at the empty driveway and street in front of the house. “Report it…stolen?”
Tearing her glare away from the spot where Jane’s car had sat yesterday evening, Molly narrowed her eyes at Cara. “Yes. I’m reporting it stolen because she stole it. I told her I’d call it in if she took my car last night, and that’s what I’m about to do. I’m done babying her. She’s our parent, Cara. We’ve given her too many chances as it is.”
She would’ve continued, but Cara held up her hands, palms out, as if blocking Molly’s words from hitting her. “You’re right.” Cara didn’t sound happy about it, but she didn’t sound angry—at Molly, at least. “You should report it stolen. I’m just so used to covering for her, which doesn’t help anything. It’s just… Could it have been someone else?”
Her sister sounded so miserable that Molly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, but she didn’t soften her next words. “Yeah, it probably was someone else—one of her shady buddies she convinced to take it.” Molly’s phone beeped with two incoming texts, and she checked the messages, her rage bubbling up again when both Felicity and Norah confirmed that they hadn’t taken her car. With an angry flick of her thumb, she scrolled through her contacts until she reached Sergeant Taylor Blake’s name.
After several rings, Molly was preparing to leave a voicemail when the sergeant finally answered brusquely. “Blake.”
“Sergeant, it’s Molly Pax.”
“Pax.” Blake’s tone softened ever so slightly. For the hard-edged cop, that was the equivalent of anyone else gushing with sympathy. “Heard your mom fell off the straight and narrow again.”
Hearing the blunt statement felt like a punch to the gut, but it was nothing if not true. “She has—in a big way. She’s been in jail since very early this morning, but she’s still managed to somehow steal my car.”
There was the tiniest pause before the sergeant spoke again, her voice impartial and matter-of-fact. “You’re sure it was her?”
“Positive.” There was no doubt in Molly’s mind that Jane had been the one behind her car’s disappearance. “If it wasn’t her, then she talked one of her friends into taking it and told them where I keep my keys. She tried to convince me to lend it to her last night, but I refused. Everyone was out of the house for a little over an hour this morning, from about quarter to six until seven. Otherwise, at least two people have been home since I last saw my car parked in the garage.”
As she spoke, Molly examined the outside of the front door, looking for signs that the lock had been tampered with. There was nothing she could see that showed anyone had tried to break in. Closing and locking the front door behind her, she moved to check the garage door as well. Cara trailed after her like an apprehensive ghost.
“Anyone else have permission to drive it?”
“Sure, my sisters, but I’ve checked with all of them, and none have touched it.” As much as she wanted to stay as professional and clinical-sounding as the sergeant, a thread of her anger snuck out. “They also aren’t the ones who are going to need bail money over the next day or two.”
The mention of money made her head snap up, and she rushed back to where she’d dropped her backpack on the kitchen counter. Yanking out her wallet, she quickly checked inside and bit back a snarl.
“All the cash in my purse—about eighty dollars—and our business ATM card are missing. I’m going to pass you over to Cara so she can answer your questions while I call my bank.” She and Cara exchanged phones, and Molly hurried to find the bank’s phone number. As the automated answering system’s spiel began, she resisted the urge to sink down onto the kitchen floor and curl up in a ball.
She knew, deep in her gut, that this was only the tip of the iceberg. Things would only get worse from here.
* * *
“What’s the total loss?” Even though Molly asked the question, she wasn’t really sure she wanted the answer. Just a day ago, she’d been blissfully ignorant about what Jane had been planning, and she wished she could go back to that time…mainly so she could hide her keys and wallet somewhere that Jane or one of her felonious buddies would never find them. After spending hours trying to sort out the mess their mother had made, all five sisters had gathered around the dining room tab
le to hash out the next steps of their damage-control plan.
Cara and Norah tipped their heads together, both peering at the spreadsheet Norah had whipped up once she’d gotten home and been apprised of the situation. “Sergeant Blake filed the stolen vehicle and burglary report and put out a BOLO for your car, but it still hasn’t been found. We’ve initiated the insurance claim,” Norah said.
“The bank’s canceled your card and started an investigation,” Cara continued from where Norah had left off. “We’ll probably be reimbursed for the purchases—fifteen hundred at Walmart and nine hundred at Tiny’s Automotive Repair—but the business is out the four hundred withdrawn from the ATM this morning, plus the cash taken from your purse…and all the hassle and aggravation.” Cara gave Molly a shaky attempt at a sympathetic smile. “It doesn’t look like anything else is missing from the house—that we’ve noticed, at least.”
“Okay.” Inhaling a breath, Molly blew it out in a long sigh. “This is a four-hundred-and-eighty-dollar life lesson, then. I’m voting that we learn from this and never let Mom move back in, no matter how guilty she tries to make us feel. Who’s with me?”
“I am.” Norah was the first to agree. “We’ve given her too many chances and too much money already. We’re the ones who paid off the mortgage on this house, and we should get to decide who stays here.”
Charlie nodded vehemently. “Let’s change the locks and pretend we’re orphans—well, except for when Lono comes to visit.”
Although it was more a huff of air than an actual laugh, it was the closest Molly had come to smiling since she’d discovered the theft of her car. “I like your plan.” She held her fist out, and Charlie bumped it with hers. “Cara? What are your thoughts?” She braced to hear her sister defend their mom, ready to deflect the automatic guilt and stand strong. After Jane’s latest stunt, Molly did not want her mother in their house—or their lives—anymore. She was done.
“We’ve let her stay too long already,” Cara said, surprising Molly. “She’s almost fifty and a mother of five grown kids. She needs to learn to make it on her own, without us propping her up.”