by Katie Ruggle
His chuckle was low and had an odd note of heat, but she immediately dismissed the thought. If it was anything close to that, it was because he was just teasing her. Before he could say anything, the throaty grumble of a car engine turning over caught both of their attention.
The neighborhood was normally quiet—when they weren’t getting their house searched by police and having random guys trying to break in. Since the hunting lodge’s entrance was on the other side of the resort’s property, the only occasional traffic was Mr. P’s BMW sedan or the Villaneaus’ grown daughter’s minivan. Molly knew the sound and appearance of all her neighbors’ vehicles. She was even familiar with all her neighbors’ friends’ and families’ vehicles.
She didn’t know this car.
She peered through the darkness, trying to make out the driver, but the car was sitting in the gloomy spot between two streetlights. The porch light above her was spotlighting her position and ruining her night vision, and she suddenly felt exposed. The dark interior of the strange vehicle seemed menacing, the unknown making the unseen driver a thousand times scarier than if she’d been able to make out the slightest details. All of the stories about Sonny’s horrific misdeeds, both rumored and confirmed, rose in her mind, and her breath caught audibly.
“What’s wrong?” John asked, his voice growly, protective almost, as his gaze swept the street and immediately landed on the unknown car. “Who’s that?”
The reminder of John’s presence pulled her out of her imagination-fueled worry, and anger shoved out her feeling of vulnerability. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” This was her neighborhood, her house. What right did this interloper have to make her feel hunted on her own front porch? As she surged down the steps and toward the car, intending to confront the driver, the headlights flashed on, blinding her even further. She hesitated, blinking away the bright haloes burned into her vision, and the car shot forward. The engine roared as the driver accelerated quickly, darting past her and leaving just the shrinking taillights and the acrid scent of burned rubber behind.
“I don’t suppose you caught a plate number?” Even as she asked, Molly knew the answer would be no. There was no way that John had caught a glimpse of the license plate. With the glare of the headlights, all she’d been able to tell was that it’d been a four-door sedan.
“No.” His voice came from right behind her, surprising her. She’d figured he’d stayed on the porch, but he must’ve followed during her impulsive attempt to confront the mystery car’s driver.
Since the taillights had disappeared into the night, she turned and started back toward the house. John fell in beside her. “Any idea who that was? You didn’t happen to get a peek at the driver, did you?” she asked.
“No to both.” John’s voice was tight with worry. “All I caught was that the car was a late-model Dodge Charger, dark blue or possibly green.”
“Oh well.” Molly brushed off her disappointment and a lingering feeling of menace as she returned to the front door and opened it, waving John through into the house. “They weren’t actually doing anything wrong, except being somewhat creepy.” She had a hunch the cops—especially her two new Denver detective buddies—would’ve frowned on her doing a citizen’s arrest for loitering. Still, with everything that had been happening, she knew better than to dismiss the incident completely. Besides, listening to her gut had kept her alive in a dangerous job over the past few years. If her instincts were telling her that something was off about that mystery car, she was going to listen.
Warrant greeted them, the lazy wag of his tail speeding up when he recognized John, who gave the dog’s ruff a vigorous scratching. When John looked up and caught Molly’s exasperated expression, he asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” she grumbled, not wanting to admit that she was a little miffed that her dog was more excited to see Carmondy than he was to see her, the person who fed him. She really didn’t want to admit that watching John loving on her dog was annoyingly endearing. Giving herself a mental shake, she started to automatically tell John to make himself at home, but then she caught herself and stuffed the words back down. He didn’t need any encouragement to wedge himself even further into her life. Instead, as she headed for the stairs, she simply said, “I’ll be right back.”
On her way to go change, she saw the door to Norah’s tiny bedroom was ajar and stuck her head in to see her sister in her usual position: sitting cross-legged on the bed, hunched over her laptop. Since Norah was obviously caught up in whatever was on her screen, Molly tapped her knuckles lightly against the doorjamb. Her efforts not to startle Norah weren’t successful, since she jumped about a foot at the quiet knock.
“Molly! I didn’t hear you come in.” She straightened her laptop, which had toppled sideways when she’d startled. “You’re back early. No luck?”
“Costume change and weapon collection,” Molly explained. “Then we’ll be heading back out again. All’s quiet here?” Even as she kept her voice light, she thought about the car sitting within view of their house. Sometimes, she wished that Norah didn’t get so caught up in her research. When she was really interested in what she was reading, the rest of the world disappeared.
“Yeah.” Norah stretched her arms toward the ceiling, making her oversize sleep shirt bunch up around her shoulders. “Where’s John? Did you ditch him already?”
“No. Not that it hasn’t been tempting.” The last part felt like a lie, and Molly hurried to change the subject before she did something ridiculous—like blush or explain that she’d been tempted by John, just not to escape him. “Is Cara in her room?”
“I think so.” A small line appeared between Norah’s eyebrows. “She said she had to run a few errands, but that was…” She glanced at the screen, as if checking the time. “An hour ago? Maybe? Sorry, I was caught up in this.” As she gestured toward her laptop, worry tightened her features, and Molly hid her irrational concern for Cara being out alone under a reassuring smile.
“I’ll check in with her before I leave. There was a car I didn’t recognized parked outside, but they drove off as soon as I headed toward them. Did you hear anything?”
Norah’s eyes widened. “No, nothing. Who do you think it was?”
Attempting to look unconcerned, Molly waved a deliberately careless hand. She wanted Norah to be watchful but not terrified, and that was a tough balance to achieve. “Probably just a lost tourist. Keep an eye out, though, just in case.” Norah was beginning to look hunted, so Molly deliberately switched topics. “Any leads on where Mom might’ve gone?”
“I might’ve found her car at a dealership in Colorado Springs.” The anxiety in Norah’s expression eased as she spoke. “The VIN is off by a couple of numbers, but that could’ve just been because someone got sloppy entering it.”
“Or the dealer suspected it might be stolen, so they’re hoping to sell it before anyone tracks it down and they’re left without their money or a car,” Molly said.
Norah raised a shoulder in a shrug that Molly knew meant she agreed. “Felicity and Charlie are going to check it out tomorrow morning.”
“Good job, researching genius.” Moving into the room, Molly extended her fist. Norah bumped it while giving her a rare smile. “Any sign of my car?”
“Maybe.” She fiddled with her laptop. “Nothing concrete enough to share yet.”
“Okay.” Shoving down her disappointment and antsy need to push for more answers, Molly moved to the doorway. If pressured, Norah would shut down, which wouldn’t help anyone, but it was hard to be patient. “Text me if you need anything. Nice work so far. Don’t stay up too late.”
“I will, thanks, and I won’t.” The words sounded distracted, as if Norah was already back in her research fog.
Molly backed out of the room, pulling the door mostly closed behind her, and ran into a solid form. Whirling around, she shoved away from the person she’d
just run into, her fists automatically raising into a defensive position in front of her face. In that second, she recognized the man standing in her upstairs hallway, and her alarm faded—even as her annoyance increased.
“Carmondy,” she hissed, dragging him away from Norah’s room and into hers so she could yell at him without whispering. “What are you doing up here?”
His linebacker-worthy shoulders lifted and fell. “Just checking on you. I heard your voice but not what you were saying, and I thought you might be calling for me.”
“Calling for you? Calling for you?” His look of innocence aggravated her even as she struggled not to find him amusing. It was the same reason she had a hard time training Warrant. Both the dog and John were too endearing for their own good, even when they were misbehaving. Biting back any hint of a smile, Molly gave him the sternest look she could manage. “Don’t worry. If I ever call for you, you’ll know.”
“Good to know. Ready?” His gaze flickered down to her still bare legs before slowly making their way back up to her face. “Weren’t you going to change?”
Ignoring his question, she rested her hands on her hips and stared at the ceiling, searching for patience. When she realized that none was forthcoming, she sighed heavily and met his eyes again. “Why do you have to be this way?”
“What way?”
The right words escaped her, so she waved her arms in a way that encompassed his whole huge form. “So…lurky. Happy and lurky.”
His grin actually widened at that. “Thank you, but I think the phrase you’re searching for is happy-go-lucky.”
“No.” Giving up, she dropped her backpack on the floor and headed for her closet. “That’s not what I’m searching for. Now, get out.”
“You sure you don’t need any hel—?”
“Out.” She emphasized the single-word command by pointing at the door. Even though he still wore his stupid grin, he obeyed, slipping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him. Despite knowing that he was safely in the hall and did not, to the best of her knowledge, have X-ray vision, Molly still changed in a hurry, half expecting him to burst in with some half-assed excuse at any moment.
She managed to yank on her cargo pants and T-shirt uninterrupted, so she opened her nightstand drawer and picked through the contents. Since her pants provided multiple, easy-to-reach pockets, she decided to bring along a few more accessories than she normally did: a Taser, two folding knives, a pair of handcuffs, her lock-pick kit, a travel-sized pepper spray, and a few other handy odds and ends.
After twisting her hair into a braided bun at the base of her neck and checking to make sure her backpack had the usual first-aid kit and other essentials she needed when out chasing skips, she couldn’t resist a quick glance in the mirror to make sure she looked okay. As soon as her eyes met her reflection, she looked away. What was she doing? This was a dangerous and important thing she needed to do, and she couldn’t be getting distracted by her impromptu partner.
Turning resolutely toward the door, she shouldered her backpack and checked off all the items on her mental checklist. She was ready to go. As soon as she’d taken a single step toward the entrance to her room, the door swung open and Mr. Happy-and-Lurky stuck his face inside.
“Ready?”
“What’s with your knocking deficiency?” she demanded, although most of the heat in her voice was gone. She was already learning to pick her battles with John, and they’d only been partners for a very short time—not even partners. It was more like they were acquaintances who’d stumbled over the same case…acquaintances who liked to bicker a lot. Recently, that bickering had felt like it bordered on flirting. Wrinkling her nose, Molly made a mental resolution to nip that in the bud. There’d be no living with her sisters if they found out that they’d been right all along about John Carmondy’s more-than-friendly feelings toward her…not to mention her own confusing emotions.
“Sorry.” He thumped his knuckles against the doorframe. “It’s me, John Carmondy. Ready?”
She just rolled her eyes silently at him as she squeezed by him into the hall. Although she managed to squeak by with just the lightest brush of fabric and exposed skin, her traitorous pulse still thumped in double time from his proximity. “I’m just going to check in with Cara first.”
The twins’ bedroom door was closed, so she tapped on it, waiting to be invited in. When she was met with silence, she stuck her head in, taking in the unoccupied room. Backing out again, she closed the door behind her and typed a quick text to Cara, asking where she was and if she was okay. After a short pause, she sent a check-in message to Felicity and Charlie’s phones, too. Everything that had happened was making Molly twitchy, and she didn’t like not having her sisters safely within sight. It was silly, since they were just as proficient at taking care of themselves as Molly was—well, most of them, at least—but she still couldn’t quiet the instinct to keep her younger sisters safe.
“Is she supposed to be home?” John asked, drawing her attention away from her phone. His expression had grown serious—worried, even—and she blinked at him, a little surprised by how much he seemed to care. Her phone’s text alert sounded, pulling her out of her distracted thoughts. It was Felicity, confirming that both she and Charlie were fine—frustrated by a lack of leads, but otherwise fine. John shifted closer, reminding Molly that he’d asked a question about Cara.
Holding out one hand, she turned it side to side. “She’s an adult, so she can go where she wants, but I just need to make sure she’s okay. That car outside…” She let her voice trail off, not wanting to admit that she was spooked. Her phone beeped again, saving her from having to complete her thought. “She’s fine.” Molly frowned at the text. “Weirdly cagey, but fine.”
“Weirdly cagey how?”
“She’s not admitting where she is exactly.” She typed as she spoke.
What animal would you be?
“What?” John asked. “That’s a random question.” He’d moved closer so he could read her phone. Without looking up at him, she put one hand in the middle of his chest and pushed until he took two steps back. Her fingers wanted to linger and explore the rock-solid planes of his upper torso, but she forced her hand to drop.
Panda bear. I’m FINE.
Although she was relieved at Cara’s answer, Molly was still immensely curious about where her sister could be. Telling herself firmly that it was none of her business and, as she’d told John, Cara was an adult who could go wherever she wanted without having to explain herself to her nosy older sister, she pocketed her phone.
“Do we need to go save Cara?” John asked, and she shot him a sharp look. He’d asked so calmly, yet seriously, and was obviously fully prepared to mount a sister rescue mission if it was necessary. Her heart did a funny little skip, and she could feel her defenses against John Carmondy crumbling even more. How could she keep from liking him when he went all white knight in defense of her sisters?
“No. She answered the Did your abductor take your phone and text for you? question right, so she really is okay. I’m just not sure where she is. Let’s head to Dutch’s before I’m tempted to track her phone.”
John looked a bit disappointed, making her think that he’d been hoping to do some tracking—or that he just wanted to put off their search for Sonny. He gestured toward the stairs, and Molly descended them in front of him. Normally, she liked to keep everyone who wasn’t family—actually, everyone who wasn’t her sisters—in her sights, since her years in bail recovery had taught her that she never could predict what panicked and desperate people would do. Strangely, she was comfortable with John behind her. For some reason, she trusted him to watch her back.
Surprised and a little discomfited by this realization, she glanced at him over her shoulder.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” It came out too quickly, and she hurried to face forward ag
ain, making a beeline for the front door.
“Now I really want to know.” Laughter underscored his words, and she sighed soundlessly.
Unlocking and opening the front door, she didn’t look at him as she walked outside. “Sometimes, Carmondy, nothing really means nothing.”
Now she just had to convince herself. Despite her best efforts, her feelings toward John were starting to turn into a very scary and confusing something.
Chapter 11
Although he grumbled, he didn’t ask again as he followed her out onto the porch, easing the screen door closed so it didn’t smack against the jamb like it usually did. She scanned the street, looking for any suspicious people or vehicles. Except for John’s SUV, the road and driveways were empty, the neighbors’ cars tucked neatly away in their oversize garages. Molly relaxed a hair.
“I guess there is an upside to living in a Stepford neighborhood,” she muttered, making John laugh.
“I’ve been wondering why you live here,” he said, swinging his arm in a wide gesture that encompassed the entire area, from the pin-tucked lawns to the wrought-iron gate bordering the resort’s property. “It doesn’t seem to suit you.”
“It belonged to Victor, the twins’ dad and my favorite of the stepfathers. It’s been in his family for decades.” As she climbed into the front passenger seat of John’s SUV, she wondered why she was sharing personal details with him. It might’ve been because she was still a little shell-shocked by the realization that she trusted him, or it could’ve been that he gave off the impression that she could tell him anything, and he’d keep her secrets safe.
Whatever the reason, she found herself spilling the whole—albeit abridged—story once he climbed into the driver’s seat. “My mom and I moved in here when I was a baby, so I grew up in this house. After he died…” The word still stuck in her throat. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d called him her favorite, even though he’d died when she was just a little kid. “After he died, Mom got the house, and we stayed here, even after she married again…twice.”