Page 12 of In Her Sights
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.”
