Page 40 of In Her Sights
Scrambling to her feet, Molly backed up several steps so she wasn’t within reach. Her foot hit something, sending it sliding across the floor. A quick glance showed that it was her Taser, and she grabbed it, pointing it toward the intruder just as John charged into the kitchen, dragging a cuffed man behind him.
“Hit the lights, would you?” Although Molly strove for a conversational tone, her breath was still coming in short gasps.
John obliged, flicking the switch to turn on the overhead fixture. The brightness made Molly blink rapidly until her eyes adjusted. As soon as they did, she recognized the man lying on the floor, still clutching his throat.
“Sanders, you opportunistic slug.” She resisted the urge to kick him, mostly because she knew it would hurt her bare foot more. “What do you think you’re doing?” Even as she asked, she knew exactly what he was doing.
“Not doing anything.” Sanders’s voice was hoarse, and Molly could not find it in her to be at all sorry she’d punched him in the throat. “Jane told us to stop by whenever we want.”
“An open invitation,” the cuffed man John had a grip on added.
Molly eyed him. “Of course. Eddie Cord. Why am I not surprised to see you following Sanders around like a fuzzy little duckling?”
Cord narrowed his eyes at her, but his glare was just about as scary as the aforementioned baby duck. “I don’t follow him around. We’re partners.”
“Partners in what? Dumbassery?” John asked.
Molly grinned at him, raising her hand not holding the Taser in the air. “Nice one.”
Although he wasn’t in reaching distance, he gave her an air high-five. “Thanks.”
Ignoring the warm feeling that hummed through her, she lowered her hand and focused on the intruders. “This is not Jane’s house anymore, so consider that ‘open invitation’ revoked.”
Sanders’s lips drew back in a sneer. “Can’t just say it’s your house and make it so. I’m going to have to hear it straight from Jane.”
Cord sniggered, and Molly fought the urge to tase them both. “Nope. It’s my house because it is. The cops will agree with me.” She’d expected that the mention of the police would make Sanders and Cord fall into line, but they just exchanged a smirk. She had the random thought that John was the only person who could make that expression look good.
“Not what I heard,” Sanders said mockingly. “I heard they let the last guy who broke in walk.”
Stuart. The name was a growl in her head. Molly wished the blabby weasel was here, so that she could tase him, too. She mentally added punching Stuart in his smug, burglarizing face onto her mental bucket list.
“You should be less concerned with what the cops did then,” John said, his bass voice rumbling a warning, “and more concerned about what we’re going to do now.”
The two intruders stopped smirking as fear flashed in their eyes.
Molly was perfectly happy to play bad cop and badder cop with John. “That’s better. Now tell us what you’re doing here.”
“Told you,” Sanders muttered, his gaze darting away from her. “Jane asked us to pick up something.”
“Yeah.” Cord jumped in, nodding in such an exaggerated way that he looked like a bobblehead doll. “Jane asked us to come here and get…something.”
Meeting John’s exasperated gaze, Molly made a Can you believe these guys? face. Although his snort was amused, she noticed that John didn’t loosen his grip on Cord. Her gaze fell to the smaller man’s wrists, and she frowned, wondering where John had gotten the handcuffs. She glanced at his bare torso and down to the pants he must’ve yanked on in a hurry. Like hers, they had bunches of pockets. Shifting her gaze to meet his eyes, not allowing herself to linger on an expanse of brown, bare, obnoxiously beautiful chest on the way, she raised her eyebrows.
“You just happened to have cuffs on you?”
The corners of his mouth tucked in as he held back a smile, his dimple revealing his true amusement. “Never leave home without them.”
“Always prepared, Boy Scout?”
“Always.”
“If you two are going to flirt, can we leave?” Sanders asked, bringing Molly’s attention back to him. He’d propped himself up on his elbows, and she knew she either had to cuff him or let him go soon. Letting him sit unrestrained on the floor was just asking for trouble.
“Once you tell us why you’re really here,” she said crisply, “you’ll be able to leave. So spill.”
Sanders clamped his lips together, pretending to zip them in a dramatic gesture. She allowed her smirk to emerge, looking away from Sanders in a dismissive gesture that meant she didn’t need him, not when Cord was just dying to give away the entire game.
Letting her smile widen, she focused on the cuffed man. “So, Eddie… Jane must trust you a lot to give you a key to the house.”
