Page 14 of In Her Sights
“That’s basically what Cara told Barney when he called.”
Her eyebrows shooting up, Charlie stared at her twin, looking impressed. “Really? You said that?”
Always meticulously honest, Cara rolled her eyes. “Not really.”
“Pretty close.” Molly refocused on what they’d been talking about before they’d gone off on their Sonny tangent. “Anyway, it’s a no to Sonny, but all of these are yeses.” She held up the folders and extended them toward her sisters. Felicity and Charlie each immediately took one, and Norah extended her hand but didn’t touch the folders as she looked at Molly, her expression anxious.
“Do I need to help out more on the actual bounty-hunting front?” she asked, her tone telling Molly how very unappealing she found that thought.
“Thank you,” Molly told her sincerely, giving her arm a squeeze, “but you stick with research and fixing our tech.” Pausing, she shot Charlie a stern glare. “Whenever possible, that is. If someone, say, runs over her brand-new laptop with her car, then it’s probably hopeless, and we won’t judge you for not being able to fix it. We will judge the person who ran over her brand-new laptop with her car, however. We will judge that person harshly.”
Norah appeared to be completely confused, but Charlie looked as guilty as Warrant when he was caught eating out of the garbage. Felicity’s expression, on the other hand, was one of pure triumph.
“I knew it!” Felicity crowed, slapping the table with her open palm. “I asked where your laptop was, and you did that mumble-mumble thing you always do when you’re trying to lie without really lying, and I knew you’d destroyed it somehow. Seriously, Charlie? You ran the poor thing over? Your innocent little laptop crushed? What is that? Your second new computer this year? Third?”
Charlie opened her mouth, but a heavy knock on the door interrupted her before she could defend herself. They all went still, their eyes wide as they looked around at each other. Even Warrant, who’d been napping under the table, using Cara’s foot as a pillow this time, stuck his head out but stayed quiet. At the next even louder knock, Molly shook herself out of her apprehensive paralysis and stood up. Her sisters followed her lead, and she snorted as she eyed them.
“Are we answering the door as a group?” she asked, leading the way to the front door. From the sound of the footsteps behind her, it seemed that the answer was yes. Privately, she didn’t mind the company. After everything that had happened with Jane, plus John Carmondy’s unexpected arrival early that morning, she didn’t mind having some backup—at least until their family’s luck changed for the better.
As she unlocked the front door and pulled it open, she squinted against the low-hanging sun that was perched right above the mountain peaks and peered at the pair standing on the porch. She bit back a curse when she saw the police T-shirts and the badges clipped to their belts. She had enough fingerprint powder all over her kitchen and garage from Sergeant Blake’s visit, thank you very much. Besides, she didn’t have the energy to deal with more cops today.
One of her sisters didn’t have her restraint. A low, drawn-out groan came from behind her—Felicity, if Molly wasn’t mistaken.
“Hello, Officers.” Molly plastered on a smile and flicked a glance at the logo on one of the men’s shirts. Denver Police. No wonder their faces weren’t familiar. She knew everyone at the Langston PD and the Gordon County Sheriff’s Office, at least by sight. “Are you here for some follow-up on my stolen car?”
“No, and it’s Detectives Mill”—he gestured toward his own chest—“and Bastien. We have a search warrant for this property,” the younger one said as the older cop—Bastien—silently and unsmilingly handed her the paperwork.
“Search warrant?” Her polite smile froze as she pulled out the warrant and scanned it, trying to push away her confusion and growing panic in order to take in the legalese. She knew she needed to focus so she could carefully check the areas the warrant allowed the cops to legally search and what items they were looking for.
“Give it here,” Cara said, plucking the paper from Molly’s hands. Once again relieved that her sisters were backing her up, Molly returned her attention to the detectives waiting not too patiently to get into the house.
“What’s all this about?” she asked. “Whatever our mom was arrested for this time, it can’t be major enough to require a search.” Except that auto theft’s pretty major, Molly thought. However, she knew that her car wasn’t hidden in her mom’s room.
“The judge disagrees,” Detective Mill snapped, and the two entered the house. Her mind whirling with thoughts about the best way to handle the situation, Molly stepped back out of their way.
Once they were in the living room, she was moving to close the door when she spotted three more vehicles pulling up in front of the house: two unmarked and one with DENVER CRIME SCENE UNIT printed on the side. The Villaneaus, a retired couple living across the street who were endlessly bitter that Molly’s family had the house with national park access instead of them, stepped outside and settled on their front-porch swing to watch the action.
“Great,” Molly muttered under her breath, and Felicity—the only one who hadn’t followed the first two cops deeper inside—met her gaze with a look of mutual dread. “This is going to be a huge mess.”
Felicity’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “It already is.”
Molly couldn’t argue with that.
Chapter 5
By the time the cops, detectives, and crime scene unit had made their significant mess and left, twilight had given way to full darkness. Molly paced the dining room, too anxious and furious to sit still, and glared at her cell phone.
“Just call him,” Charlie said for the tenth time, and Molly had to clench her teeth to keep from snapping something rude at her sister. “He’s the only one left.”
“I know.” Taking a deep breath, Molly forced herself to stand still. She’d tried all of their other contacts, but no one knew anything—or if they did, they wouldn’t share with her. This was their last possible source for information, and even this was a long shot. She just really didn’t want to call this number. As soon as she did, she’d be opening a huge, family-sized can of worms.
There wasn’t anyone else left to call, though, and they needed answers. After one more exhale that came out as a sigh, she tapped the number on her screen.
“What’s wrong, Pax?” John Carmondy answered immediately, so she didn’t even get a chance to prepare herself for hearing his bass voice.
“What’d she do?” It was rude to just blurt out the question. Molly knew that, but when was she ever polite to John? When you need answers from him, a smugly know-it-all voice in the back of her head reminded her. She hated that voice.
