Page 67 of In Her Sights
Chapter 21
Molly’s phone vibrated against her hip, and she quickly glanced at it, pretty sure who it was going to be from and what it was going to say.
I hate this plan.
Holding back a huff of amused exasperation, she quickly texted John back I know before sliding her phone back in her pocket. That was about the tenth time he’d texted her that, and that was after telling her that in person multiple times before they’d headed to their respective spots. She was fairly sure the only reason he agreed to the plan was that he was about ninety percent sure that the Denver address—the location that he was staking out—was where the action was going to be, so he’d figured that she’d probably be safe by herself at the Langston warehouse.
To her, it had been the only thing that made sense. After all, there were two possible locations for Sonny’s meeting, and there were two of them. Neither of them was going to try to interrupt the meeting, so they just needed to wait for Sonny to finish whatever nefarious business he was doing before following him and snagging him as soon as he was alone. It was something both of them had done by themselves hundreds of time to hundreds of skips. Sonny wouldn’t be any different. Molly had built him up in her head to be something of a white whale, but he was simply another bail jumper…one who liked to blow things up.
Despite her attempts to soothe her nerves, though, she was worrying about John just as much as he was obviously worrying about her. She just couldn’t admit it to him, or he’d be speeding back to Langston, plan abandoned.
Dragging her brain back on track, she shifted to a more comfortable position. She was perched on the edge of the neighboring building in the dark shadow of a cottonwood tree, watching the main entrance of the warehouse. The other doors were either the huge overhead kind that semi trucks could fit through or chained and locked, so this appeared to be the only possible way to access the building at night.
She shivered slightly, both from the chill in the night air and from anticipation, wishing John were with her right now. She’d gotten used to being a team, and working by herself again made her feel vulnerable and lonely. The previous hours ran through her head in vivid color—the way his soapy skin felt under her fingers in the shower and the long, intense kiss he’d given her before they’d split up—and she was suddenly no longer cold.
Peeking at her phone, Molly saw that it was just a few minutes before eleven and that John had sent her a frowning emoji. Swallowing a snort before it could escape, she focused on the entry again. Her heart rate slowed back to normal as she pushed thoughts of John out of her mind and concentrated on scanning the front of the building and the space around it. Nothing moved.
As the minutes ticked by, she grew more and more uneasy. Things were too quiet. Even as she watched the door, she knew in her gut that she was alone except for the night bugs and a few bats. No one was meeting at this warehouse tonight.
A chill crept back over her skin. If Sonny’s cohorts weren’t here, that meant they were possibly at the Denver location with John. The silent buzz of her phone made her jump, and her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled it out. The text was from John, and she relaxed slightly when she saw his name, but the actual words on the screen made her stiffen.
Tell your boy goodbye.
Her heart stalled before stuttering back into motion too fast, like a startled jackrabbit’s, her fingers suddenly numb and fumbling as she texted back.
Who is this?
There was no answer.
Her skin went clammy as she stared at her screen, unable to tear her gaze off that menacing text. Something had happened to John. Just as she knew that no one would be showing up at this address tonight, she also knew that John was in trouble. Terror roiled in her gut. She had to get to him.
Scrambling to her feet, trying hard to ignore the twenty-foot drop to the asphalt below, she rushed for the back where a work truck had been parked conveniently close to the building. It was a struggle to descend cautiously, to not just hurl herself onto the roof of the truck cab, heedless of noise or safety. Even though she was terrified that something had happened to John, she shouldn’t blindly run right into a trap. She needed to plan.
Slipping from the top of the cab into the truck bed, she jumped to the ground, hardly noticing the sting as her boots hit the pavement. She could barely keep herself from running the few blocks to where John’s car was parked.
Not wanting to stop long enough to text, she called Cara once she was in the car.
“They have John.” The words spilled out as soon as her sister answered.
Cara sucked in an audible breath, but when she spoke, her voice was calm. “I’ll grab Norah. Are you picking us up?”
“I’ll be there in three minutes.” Cara’s matter-of-fact steadiness settled Molly’s nerves, and anger at Sonny started to build. It was an effort to keep from gunning the engine as she raced toward their house. She couldn’t be delayed, not now.
As she pulled up to the curb, Cara and Norah were waiting. As soon as they’d piled into the car, Molly swung around and took off the way she’d come. “You ready for a rescue mission?” she asked her sisters grimly.
“Not really,” Norah admitted, surprising a choke of laughter out of Molly. “It doesn’t matter, though. Let’s go get John back.”
* * *
The drive to the Denver address felt endless, and it was almost physically painful to keep her speed down. Her sisters helped, offering up plans and reassurances that Molly didn’t really believe but was touched by anyway. Her fingers clutched tightly on the steering wheel as she tried not to imagine what horrible things could be happening to John. It didn’t help that his car smelled like him, reminding her of every sweet thing he’d said or done. She forced her brain to concentrate on the interstate mile markers, counting down until—to her enormous relief—they finally reached the right exit.
“Turn right at this light,” Cara said in her quiet way, although Molly could see how tightly her sister was gripping her phone. After just a few miles, Cara pointed through the windshield. “It’s just a half mile down this road.”
Molly cut the car’s lights and eased a few blocks closer to the address, parking along a line of old, mostly vacant-looking buildings. Shutting off the engine, she turned to look at her sisters. “Ready?”
Even in the pale light from a streetlamp half a block away, she could see that Norah was terrified. Although Cara’s expression was tense and strained, she looked a little better. Both of them gave firm, resolute nods, and Molly had to blink back sudden tears as a rush of affection for her sisters hit her hard.
