Page 38 of Crossing Paths
“Sorry you have to run.”
His amused huff didn’t sound out of breath at all. “Just walking now. I’ll find a coffee shop or something to wait out the cops.”
“Hopefully Mill or the other cop won’t run the plates on your SUV parked out front,” Molly said, and Norah felt her eyes grow wide. She hadn’t thought about that, but it was something Mill was likely to do. There was no doubt he had a record of all their vehicles and probably what John, Bennett, and Henry drove too.
Dash just grunted in response. Without seeing his face, Norah wasn’t sure if the sound was skeptical or agreeing. Either way, Mill still stood next to Mr. P on his porch, who wascrouched by the broken flowerpot, but the detective was staring directly at their window.
“The detective is looking at us.” Norah picked up the phone and moved back. She wasn’t sure whether Mill could see them or not, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. “As soon as it’s clear, I’ll call you back.” After another grunt—this one she was pretty sure was in agreement—she ended the call and saw that both her sisters were smirking at her. “What?”
“He’s such a caveman,” Molly said.
“I thought you liked him.” For some reason Norah didn’t want to examine too closely, it was very important that her sisters like Dash.
“Oh, we do,” Cara assured her, although she was grinning in a way Norah didn’t quite trust. “Being a caveman is not a disqualifying trait.”
“Definitely not.” Molly said over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs. “Take it from someone whose boyfriend never shuts up. I love him, but the man is an extrovert.”
“Where are you going?” Cara asked.
“My room. We can watch through the blinds without a nosy detective spotting us.” Molly took the stairs three at a time.
Even though she groaned, Cara followed her up the steps. “When did we becomethatneighbor? Shouldn’t this behavior wait until we’re in our nineties?”
Smiling despite the rock sitting in her stomach, Norah climbed the stairs after her sisters.
Nine
Watching the show next door was boring without any audio or wrestling matches. The only excitement occurred when the uniformed cop pulled Zach out of the back of the squad car, presumably so that Mr. P could get a look at him to see if he knew him. Mr. Petra let out a bellow of rage loud enough for Norah to hear before barreling toward a handcuffed Zach.
“You destructive moron!” Mr. P yelled as Mill chased after him. Their neighbor got within ten feet of Zach before Mill grabbed him and yanked him back. “You need to be locked up for life. You destroyed a one-of-a-kind gazing ball!One. Of. A. Kind!”
Mr. P seemed to lose his momentum at that point, his shoulders slumping as he allowed Mill to usher him back to his porch.
“I feel kind of bad for him,” Cara muttered quietly. “We were responsible for Zach being on his porch after all.”
“Sure, but remember when he called the cops on us because he measured a piece of our grass with a ruler and it was an eighthof an inch longer than allowed by city ordinance?” Molly asked, still peering at the scene outside through an opening between the window frame and the edge of the blinds. “Or when we were kids and spent weeks building that little tree house in the cottonwood that’s right next to his yard, and he destroyed it when we were at school? I mean, it was pathetic and probably would’ve led to us falling to our deaths, but there was still no excuse for him smashing it to bits with a sledgehammer. Oh! And when we saved our money to get rainbow Christmas lights, and he cut the plug off every single strand during the night because he didn’t want decorations that ‘promoted homosexuality’ in the neighborhood?”
“Fine! Fine,” Cara put her hands on her head as if protecting herself from an onslaught. “I was wrong. He doesn’t deserve my pity. My pity for Mr. P has officially dried up.”
Norah smiled a little at the memories Molly had brought up. “I loved those Christmas lights. They were sobright.”
“Yeah.” Judging by Molly’s sigh, she was feeling nostalgic too. “I wish he’d gotten electrocuted when he took his garden shears to them.”
“Molly!” Cara sounded both legitimately shocked but also like she was trying not to laugh, which took some of the impact away from her scolding.
“Fine,” Molly grumped. “I wish he’d gotten a solid, painful—but not deadly—shock. Is that better?”
“We should decorate the house for Christmas again this year,” Norah suggested absently as she watched Mr. Petra wave his arms as he talked to Mill.
“Oh, let’s.” Molly sounded so gleeful Norah was surprised she wasn’t rubbing her hands together like a cartoon villain. “That’ll be brilliant.”
“Especially if we leave them up until July.” Cara looked serious, but the corner of her mouth twitched, making Molly lose it completely.
When she finally regained control of herself, Molly wiped her eyes and returned to her surveillance spot at the side of the window. “And you thought I was wicked for wishing he’d been electrocuted. You want totorturehim for months instead.”
Cara just offered a tiny yet smug smile. “A quick death is too good for him. I loved that tree house.”
More amused than she should probably be at a discussion about torturing their neighbor, Norah peeked through the blinds. She was careful not to get too close so she didn’t bump them. Neither cop was looking their way, but she didn’t want to be obvious about it and draw their attention.
