Page 51 of In Her Sights
“I really don’t want you coming up there,” John grumbled, his gaze still fixed on the pockmarked ceiling. “It’s not safe.”
Molly snorted and moved toward the hallway. “If I only did what was safe, I’d never have started a bail recovery business. I’d have started a…safe-making business.” She chuckled at her own stupid pun, needing to relieve the nervous tension. She knew it wasn’t smart to wander around a house after a grenade had gone off, but this was Sonny Zarver’s last place of residence, and he hadn’t had a chance to clean it out yet. It was a golden opportunity.
As they headed toward the kitchen, Molly pulled out her flashlight. The short time she’d spent outside had ruined her night vision, and the house seemed even gloomier than before. She automatically checked rooms as they passed, noticing that John had his own flashlight in hand and was doing the same thing. For some reason, this similarity in their methods made her smile before she ordered her brain to focus on the potentially dangerous task ahead.
A loud crash came from upstairs as they moved through the kitchen, and Molly glanced back at John. He gave her a grim look and took the lead up the stairs.
“Trip wire at the top, close to the floor,” she whispered.
His glance back at her was quick but telling. “You couldn’t have just told me where it was instead of insisting on coming along?”
Even though he couldn’t see her, she shrugged. “You might’ve missed something.”
He muttered under his breath, too softly for her to hear.
Although she wanted to say something else, she stayed quiet as they reached the top of the stairs. Instead of stepping over the trip wire, John pulled a small pair of wire cutters out of his pocket and snipped the line.
Good idea. She patted him on the back in approval. There were going to be a lot of innocent first responders tromping through in ten minutes or so, and it was better that they didn’t blow themselves up by accident. When John turned, his eyebrows lifted in question, she just gave him a thumbs-up.
They moved toward the doors again, and Molly pointed at the one on the right, even though it was obvious where the explosion had occurred. The door was still wide open after her mad dash to escape, and shrapnel had peppered the wall and door across the hall from Sonny’s room. Although there was a slight haze of smoke, the room wasn’t the smoldering pit she’d expected. The glass from the uncovered window littered the floor, but otherwise all the mess was the same as before the explosion.
“Concussion grenade?” she asked, stepping cautiously into the space.
John caught her arm, tugging her back as he slid in front of her. That seemed to becoming a habit on his part. “Most likely. Be careful, though. In an old house like this, it still could’ve done damage.”
The faint wail of an emergency siren drifted in through the open window, reminding Molly that they were short on time. “I’ll search in here. Go break down the other two doors and see why they’re locked. I’m guessing Sonny did that to slow down anyone who’s searching for him, but there might be something useful. Be careful, though. Apparently, Sonny loves his booby traps.”
John’s eyebrows lifted. “Break them down? Look at you, Miss Demolition.”
She gave a small shrug, even as she internally preened a little at the admiration in his voice. “Mother Tick can’t get mad about the damage. She pretty much demanded that we search for Sonny.”
Although he snorted, he moved back to the door. “Fine, but you be careful, too.”
“I will.” She made shooing motions. “Go kick some doors in. You know you want to.”
His grin made her stomach swoop and dive. “Not every day I get to kick a door in…at least without getting yelled at after.”
As he left the room, she immediately started searching, moving methodically from one side to the next, looking in the heating vents and air returns and checking for spots on the wall that appeared to have been recently restored. The floor creaked alarmingly under her feet, but it held.
She was checking the mattress for openings when the first bang of John’s boot hitting a door sounded, and she closed her eyes, waiting for another explosion. After she counted to twenty, she let out her breath in a rush and opened her eyes again. She resumed her search, checking the floor for any loose boards or bigger-than-normal gaps. Sonny was apparently a terrible housekeeper. Dust—regular dust, along with the plaster—coated everything. Making a face, she slapped her dirty hands across her pants, but that didn’t help much.
At the sound of another door being kicked in, Molly started to count again, although she didn’t pause her search that time. Quickly, she reached the opposite side of the room without finding anything except clothes and other uninteresting personal items. She’d even rummaged through the pockets of all of his pants and jackets that she’d found strewn around. It wasn’t pleasant. Sonny seemed to have the same aversion to doing laundry as he had for dusting. The closet was completely empty.
Running a hand over the top of her head to remove a spiderweb, she grimaced at the grainy feel of plaster dust coating her hair. She looked around the room, trying to figure out what she’d missed. There was no way that Sonny could’ve known they were coming, so he would’ve had to leave in a hurry. A glance out the window told her that he must’ve climbed down the rickety trellis or somehow scaled the smooth siding down to the ground or up to the roof. Either way, he would’ve only had time to grab the most important things—wallet and phone and possibly a laptop—and run.
Her gaze settled on an electrical outlet. It was strangely clean and dust-free compared to the rest of the room. When she looked at it more closely, she saw that the plate had a fresh coating of paint that didn’t match the dingy walls. The plate around the light switch had been newly painted as well. A loud wail of a siren pulled her attention away from the outlet. They were getting much louder; the emergency vehicles couldn’t be more than a half mile away by now. Stepping into the hall, she called out to John. “Can I use your flathead screwdriver?”
He popped out of the room directly across from the stairs and tossed her his multi-tool. “Be quick. We probably have three minutes before the firefighters will be tossing us over their shoulders and carrying us outside.”
“Ooh…sounds hot.” She winked and rushed back into Sonny’s room, smiling at John’s startled bark of laughter. She unscrewed the plate around the first outlet, but it was empty. The sirens grew deafeningly loud before shutting off completely, and Molly rushed to the light switch. Because the plate had been painted over, the screw didn’t want to turn.
“C’mon…c’mon…” she muttered. The screw finally gave, and she hurried to twist it out. Heavy boots pounded on the stairs as she dropped the plate onto the floor and peered into the opening. Her heart gave a jump as she spotted the top of a small cell phone, and she slid it out just as the boots reached the top of the stairs. Dropping the phone and John’s multi-tool into her pocket, she turned toward the doorway just as the first firefighter appeared.
“Are you okay, miss?” he asked, and she smiled as she walked toward him, her newly found evidence bumping against her leg.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She joined him in the hallway just as John came out of the room across from hers.
“Sonny’s not in here, either,” he announced. “He must’ve left earlier without Mother Ti—uh, Sky’s mom hearing.”
