Page 29 of In Her Sights
“Mooollllly.” He dragged out her name in an extended scolding whine before his voice returned to its usual tenor. “What are you thinking? Zarver’s bad news. I like you. I don’t want bad things to happen to you, but they will, if you hang around Zarver and his pals.”
“I know.” She did her best to not sound flippant or like she’d heard the same lecture a half-dozen times, even though she had. “I’ll be careful. Besides…” She bumped John’s meaty biceps with her shoulder, just then noticing that he’d moved very close to her. Although she gave him a funny look, she didn’t move away. “Carmondy’s on the case with me. I’ll just leap behind him and use him for a shield when the bullets start flying.”
The sergeant laughed as John gave her a look that was both censorious and wry.
The discussion about Sonny reminded Molly of why they were at the station. “Is Sergeant Blake in?”
“Hoping to mine her brain for nuggets of Sonny info?” Garcia asked with a wicked grin.
“Something like that.” She lifted her hands in a What can you do motion.
“The answer’s no. The sergeant—the other sergeant—is out for the rest of the week, and maybe longer. Her kid has chicken pox.”
“Chicken pox?” A feeling of dread settled back into Molly’s belly. No wonder she hadn’t been able to get hold of Blake. Although she knew no one was to blame for a sick kid, she was tempted to throw a mini-tantrum. The loss of her key contact was going to hurt. “Don’t parents vaccinate their kids for that now?”
“She did, and he still managed to catch it. Must be a mutant strain.” Reaching out to the bottle of hand sanitizer sitting on his desk, Garcia pumped a generous amount into his palm and slicked it over his hands with great care.
Molly watched absently, her brain ticking over possible new plans. “You always know what’s going on in Langston,” she said, figuring she might as well give it a shot, even if Garcia was giving her a skeptical look as he de-germed his hands. “I don’t suppose you could pass along some of Zarver’s known associates, could you?”
“You know I can’t give you that information.” Garcia tsked at her, even as his grin threatened to break free. “Blake might whisper helpful things in your ear, but I’m not that kind of man.” His huff sounded put-on, and he gave her a quick sideways look that gave her hope.
“If you do this, you’ll be my favorite cop,” she wheedled.
“Really?”
“Well, one of my favorites.” Sergeant Blake had been too helpful over the years to be replaced thanks to one measly bout of chicken pox.
The door behind Garcia’s desk swung open, and Lieutenant Botha stepped through. “Ms. Pax…and Mr. Carmondy,” she said as Garcia straightened, his grin falling away. “To what do I owe this double bounty-hunter pleasure? Here to pump my sergeants for information?”
Placing her hand on her chest, Molly plastered on an appalled look when she really wanted to growl with irritation. Garcia had been so close to sharing before they were interrupted, and there was no way that Botha would spill any information. She loved rules and order too much for that. “As if I’d ever do that.” She wished she had pearls to clutch. It would’ve added so much to her faux outrage. “I’m just helping you put the ‘community’ in ‘community policing.’” At John’s snort, she smothered the urge to elbow him.
The smooth skin between Botha’s perfectly formed eyebrows puckered. “What does that even mean?”
“Just checking in, seeing how all of my cop friends are doing.” She turned back to Garcia and gave him her best pleading-puppy expression. He rolled his eyes, but she pressed on, not wanting the visit to have been a total waste. “I’ll make sure to visit that great bar you were telling me about. What was the name again?”
His sigh was audible, and Molly turned up the urgency in her wide eyes. “Dutch’s,” he mumbled as he shifted folders on his desk.
Hope lit in Molly’s belly, causing it to untwist slightly. “Right. Thank you.” She put a heavy emphasis on the last two words, which made Botha’s brows draw even closer together as Garcia sent a hunted look toward Molly.
Now that she had some sort of lead, she gave the two cops a wave goodbye and headed for the door, John still sticking close to her side. Once they’d made it outside into the sodium-lit parking area, she grinned up at him. “So…Dutch’s. It’s a starting place, at least.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure that Garcia was going to come through for us, but you worked your magic.”
She peered up at him, checking for any professional jealousy or insincerity. She didn’t see any sign of it, though. “What was up with you in there? I would’ve never thought you could stay quiet for so long.”
“You had it handled…well, until the lieutenant made her appearance, but I couldn’t do anything to help that. It was just bad luck, and you still got a possible location from Garcia. Good job.”
His praise made her too happy. She knew that was dangerous, to allow herself to fill with buoyant air every time he complimented her, but she couldn’t seem to help it. “Thanks. I was worried when I heard that Blake’s out for a while. She’s the one who owes me a huge favor, so I get lots of useful tidbits from her.”
Even in the dim light, John’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “What does she owe you for?”
She leaned in, as if she was about to share a huge secret. When he dipped his head down toward her, his attention laser-focused, she whispered, “It’s a really wild story…and none of your business.”
Trying not to laugh at his look of exaggerated disappointment, she strode to his SUV, needing to put a little distance between them so her brain would start working again. It was that stupid, slight hint of sugar and strawberry scent that did her in every time, which just made her more infuriated with that tiny, bitty part of her that squeed with excitement whenever he was close enough to get a whiff.
With a cough, Molly waited for him to beep open the doors, working equally hard at banishing the dangerous flickers of a Carmondy crush and focusing on the next step in tracking down Sonny Zarver. Just the thought of his name was enough to sober her, wiping away every giddy feeling and replacing it with dread.
By the time John was buckling himself into the driver’s seat, Molly had a plan in place—or the start of one, at least.
