Page 60 of In Her Sights
His annoyed grunt told her that he’d seen the two Denver detectives, too.
Molly’s phone vibrated in her pocket, and she hurried to yank it out, the buzzing sounding nerve-rackingly loud. “Hello?” she whispered.
“Molly?” As happy as she was to hear Sergeant Blake’s voice, Molly cringed at the bad timing of her friend’s call.
“Hey, Sarge. Mind if I call you back? I’m kind of in the middle of something.” She batted at a branch that had caught in her hair, but it stayed firmly stuck until John carefully untangled the strands.
“Yeah, I guessed that, since you’re whispering,” Blake said dryly. “Does the ‘something’ you’re in the middle of involve a certain pair of Denver detectives who don’t know how to stay in their lane?”
“Yep.”
“Is that supersized bounty hunter still following you around like a homeless puppy? Garcia filled me in on the gossip.”
She glanced at John, biting back a laugh. He mouthed what? but she just gave a small shake of her head. “Yes.”
“I don’t know what the two of you did, but those two sure have it out for you. When I stopped by the station just now, I heard them radio in. They’re at your house to pick up you and your hungry puppy.”
She made a face, and John flipped his hand in an impatient motion. Who is it? he mouthed, and she held up her index finger in a one moment gesture. He grumbled but didn’t press her for more information, dividing his attention between her facial expressions and the two detectives talking in low voices next to John’s car.
“Don’t let them pick you up. You need to get your asses to the station and give your statements to one of our friendly local officers, or those two are going to be slapping cuffs on you quicker than you can smack John Carmondy with a rolled-up newspaper.”
“Okay, okay. Enough with the dog jokes. We’ll be there in fifteen.” She reviewed the route in her mind and sighed silently. “Make that twenty. Have the notepads ready.”
“Notepads?” Sergeant Blake scoffed. “Okay, Grandma. We use computers now for that.”
Resisting the urge to say something rude to her good friend who was helping them avoid the Denver detectives, Molly settled for a grunt of farewell and ended the call. As she tucked her phone away, she saw Detective Mill snap his head toward where she and John were standing.
Molly froze.
Even though she knew she and John were well hidden in the shadows of the trees, disguised by the branches of the evergreen, a pulse of anxiety shot through her. The detectives couldn’t find them until after they reached the police station. Even if the detectives didn’t drum up some bogus charges to hold them on, they’d still be detained for hours. Sonny would go to his meeting and then disappear again…along with Molly’s chance of saving her family’s house.
The seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly as Mill’s gaze raked over the trees. Finally, he turned back to his partner, and all the air gushed out of Molly’s lungs. Her relief was short-lived, however, because both detectives started walking toward the trees, their hands going to the butts of their guns.
This time, John was the one who grabbed her hand as he moved deeper into the forest. She went with him for a few steps before giving him a tug and leading him to their left. If she wasn’t mistaken—and she really hoped she wasn’t—there was a path in that direction, one of Felicity’s favorite routes when she was torturing her sisters by making them trail run.
Now that there were more trees between them and the detectives, Molly couldn’t see them anymore. She picked up her pace, wincing at every rustle and crunch her boots made, but needing to move faster. Any second, the detectives could be on them. Her pulse beat quickly in her throat as her fingers tightened around John’s. He was right behind her, trusting that she knew where she was going, so she could’ve released him…but she didn’t. The press of his warm palm against hers was the only thing keeping her calm enough to think.
Weaving around a clump of scrubby pine trees, she broke through the brush and stepped onto the path. Relief coursed over her, making her knees shaky, but she ignored that and sped up, her fast walk turning into a jog. The trail was wide enough for John to fall in next to her, making it impossible for her to pretend she needed to hold his hand anymore. She was surprised at her reluctance to release him, but forced her fingers to let go anyway. He jogged easily next to her as she risked a glance over her shoulder at the spot where they’d emerged from the trees.
No one was there—no one she could see, at least.
“Who was on the phone?” John asked a few minutes later, his voice low but annoyingly even. She, on the other hand, was already starting to breathe heavily, thanks to the running and an overdose of adrenaline.
“Sergeant Blake.” She paused for a breath before continuing. “Warning us that…the detectives…want to bring us in. Said to…get to the station…and one of the local cops…will take our statements…minus the handcuffing and detaining.”
“Nice of her to warn us.”
Not willing to waste any more breath, Molly just gave an affirmative grunt, which made John smile fondly at her for some odd reason.
“Are we headed to the station, or are we still running away?” he asked a few moments later.
“The station.” When he gave her a raised-eyebrow look, she added, “After backtracking…a little.”
Instead of protesting the detour, he just settled in next to her. She got the impression that he could run at this speed for hours, and she mentally promised herself that she would work harder during Felicity’s training sessions. Already, she was dreading it. She loathed running.
They followed the trail as it looped around and joined up with a logging road. The two-track felt too wide and exposed, especially as they reached the edge of the forest. Staying in the trees, Molly checked the area before stepping out onto the paved city street. They were several blocks away from her house, and she was fairly confident that they’d managed to lose the detectives.
The neighborhood was quiet, making the sound of their footsteps seem even louder, and Molly resisted the urge to take John’s hand again. That was a growing addiction she needed to nip in the bud. As they approached the intersection, she let her attention stray toward him, noticing how the sweat dampening his hairline just made him look better.
