Page 36 of In Her Sights
“It’d be best, unless you want to explain why we’re not bombing suspects tonight. Personally, I’d rather drag my tired ass home and then hash it out with Langston PD tomorrow if we have to.”
From the sound he made, John did not want to stick around to explain things to the cops, either.
“Let’s get the car tomorrow morning. If the cops notice it in the lot and run the plates, you could just say that you had too much to drink, so you called for a ride long before the bar exploded.” Molly felt a slight pang of guilt for getting him into this mess, so of course she overcompensated to try to make up for it. “You can stay at my house tonight, if you like.”
She immediately felt his gaze on the side of her face, but she kept her eyes focused firmly forward, even as she felt goose bumps prickle her skin at the realization that she’d just invited John Carmondy to a sleepover.
When he didn’t respond, she rushed to add, “The buses pretty much stop running at ten, but we could get a ride for you. If Charlie’s back, I can use her car, or we could get a Lyft.” Babble threatened to spill over, so she clamped her lips together and forced herself to wait for John to respond.
“I’ll stay at your house.”
She cocked her head as she studied him, unable to read his expressionless face and even tone. “Okay.” Now that the sleepover was confirmed, panicked thoughts started working their way in. Jane’s room was still a disaster area, her mattress sliced to ribbons, so that wouldn’t work for a guest room. He couldn’t stay in the twins’ room or with her and Fifi or in Norah’s tiny cave, so he’d have to go on the couch. Her shoulders relaxed a little after she came up with a solution that didn’t involve John bunking with her.
The thought of her sisters reminded her that she hadn’t checked on them in a while, and she pulled out her phone to see a couple of text messages had come through during the excitement in the warehouse.
“Everything okay?” John asked as she read them and typed a response.
“Charlie and Fifi want to keep following a lead on Mom, so they’ll be gone for a few days.” Although she kept her voice casual, her heart did the funny little squeeze and hop it always did when any of her sisters were out chasing a skip without her.
Somehow, John must’ve caught on to something in her tone, because he looked at her sharply. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” When he narrowed his eyes at her, like he thought she was prevaricating, she waved a hand. “I’m just being an overly concerned big sister, that’s all.” She dropped her phone back in one of her pants pockets. “I do this every time they head out on their own. It’s like I forget that they’re adults—capable adults.”
“Understandable, since it sounds like you pretty much raised them.” Even though John’s voice was relaxed, Molly noticed that he was still keeping a close eye on their surroundings, from the shadows between the buildings to the occasional vehicle that rolled past. She was grateful that he was alert, since she knew she was too tired and fuzzy-headed to notice anyone unless they ran up and screamed in her face. Shifting closer to John, she took reassurance in the brush of his sleeve against hers, a reminder that there was another capable adult present who would allow her to be off her game for once.
He glanced at her curiously, reminding her that they were having a conversation. “Hmm? Oh, right. Yeah, I guess I did act like the mom…even to Jane.” When the mention of her mother didn’t dredge up the usual vivid anger, Molly knew she really was exhausted. She yawned widely.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Adrenaline crash.” The conversation faded, and Molly fought to keep her eyes from closing. When they finally turned onto her street, she’d never been so grateful to see her neighbors’ ultra-neat lawns. Even as exhausted as she was, she still checked to see if there were any mysterious vehicles parked beside the curb, but the road was empty. A knot in her stomach unwound at this small mercy. She didn’t think she had it in her to chase after another strange, lurking vehicle, not until she’d had a good night’s sleep.
As she crossed the yard and climbed the porch steps, she woke up a little as she peered into the shadows. As Stuart’s unwelcome visit had proved, all the wrong people knew—or would soon find out—about Jane’s theft and subsequent arrest, and they’d be descending on the house like felonious vultures. She huffed a laugh, drawing John’s curious gaze.
“Maybe we should hang a sign on the door, telling everyone that the necklace isn’t here,” she said. “That might cut down on the number of opportunists trying to break in.”
John made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. “Are you sure it’s not?”
Instantly, all of Molly’s hackles were up as she turned to face him. Of course he had an ulterior motive. What else would explain how he went from trying to steal her skips out from under her to Mr. Helpful Backup Man? She squashed a rush of hurt that made her insides as tender as a bruise and stoked her anger instead. Since she was two steps higher than John, their eyes were almost level, and she used that unusual advantage to put extra power behind her glare. “Why are you asking? Is all this a scheme to get your hands on the necklace?”
His eyes widened as his hands came up, palms facing her, as if he were warding her off. “Whoa. No, of course not.”
“Uh-huh.” Crossing her arms, she didn’t break their stare, even though she was pretty sure she saw a flash of hurt flicker over his face. She steeled her spine, reminding herself that he was a good actor. There was no reason her distrust should injure his feelings. Besides, she’d said things that were a lot meaner than that before, and he’d simply grinned and let her insults roll right off his back. “If you’re not hunting for the necklace, than what’s all this about?” She gestured broadly, indicating everything that had just happened to them.
“What’s what about?” His already deep voice lowered even more, until it came out in a rumbly growl that made her shiver. What was it about John Carmondy that he could turn her legs to jelly just by talking? There was something very wrong with her. His annoyed tone shouldn’t affect her this way. “Me being nice? You think I can’t be a decent person without having an ulterior motive? Good to know exactly what you think of me.”
“Why wouldn’t I think that? When have you ever done anything for the sake of being ‘nice’?”
“I’m always trying to help; you just never accept it!”
Molly made a scoffing sound. “When have you tried to help—before this whole mess started, I mean?”
“All. The. Time.” His eyes were narrowed, and his mouth was set in a grim line. Molly was trying very hard not to get distracted by how aggravatingly attractive he looked when he was angry. “That skip who tried to jump you at the gas station in Franktown? Then there was the one whose mother chased after you with a hammer. And the guy who started throwing bottles of organic olive oil at you when you cornered him in Whole Foods. Any of these ringing a bell?”
The annoying thing was that they did ring a bell—all sorts of bells, actually. Each time, Molly had assumed that John just happened to be in the right place at the right time to help, thanks to him chasing her skips. She grimaced, feeling the first tentacles of guilt snaking through her. It was getting clearer and clearer that her sisters had been—obnoxiously—right. Molly had been oblivious. “I thought you just wanted to steal jobs from me.”
His expression softened minutely. She wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been staring at him, just inches from his face. Sometime during the argument, without realizing it, she’d moved closer to him…really close. “Well, that was a fun side benefit, but you started it.”
Molly sucked in a breath, bracing herself to apologize, but the front door swung open before she could get any of the words out. She turned around to see Cara leaning against the doorjamb, wearing her sleep shorts and a tank, her dark-brown hair rumpled from moving restlessly against a pillow. “If the two of you get any louder, Mr. P is going to call the cops again.”
