Eight
She froze, staring at the pockmarked, bulldog-like face of her mom’s friend Zach Fridley. It only took a second for his presence to register, and she dragged in a stuttering, wheezing breath, preparing to scream. Before the piercing sound could escape, he lunged for her. She jerked back, but she was too slow, and he was too close. Wrapping a thick hand that smelled like grease and nicotine over her mouth, he turned her around and yanked her back against him.
For the second time in just a few seconds, her muscles locked up, refusing to move. He chuckled in her ear, just a breath of sound.
“Good thing the mousy one found me,” he muttered, his lips pressed tight to her ear. It seemed like a mockery of when Dash did the same thing but with completely different motives.
Something about the too-familiar gesture unglued her frozen muscles, and she jabbed her elbow into his gut.
“ Oof .” The air was forced out of his lungs, blowing hot and disgusting across her cheek.
Twisting in his hold, she managed to kick him in the shin and thrust her palm upward toward his nose, although he turned his head in time to avoid the worst of the impact. Instead of breaking his nose, the heel of her hand glanced off his cheekbone.
Grabbing a handful of his hair, she yanked his head down as she lifted her knee, once again aiming for his nose. Instead, her kneecap connected with the tip of his chin. His head snapped back, and he howled, making her realize that she hadn’t even had the time—or the breath—to scream for help. Shoving Zach back into the closet with both hands, she twisted around to run and almost crashed into Dash.
He grasped her upper arms before they could collide, actually lifting her off her feet and setting her to the side. As she caught the breath that had been stolen by her tussle with Zach and Dash’s unexpected move, he grabbed a fistful of Zach’s jacket and yanked him closer…right into his balled fist.
After just one hit, Zach went limp. Norah eyed him warily, not sure if he was actually unconscious or just playing possum so he didn’t get hit again. If he was faking, he was a good actor, because the man was limp . “Is he out?” she asked.
Dash gave the man in his grip a shake, and Zach flopped like a rag doll. “Yeah.” He turned his attention to her, giving her an intense head-to-toe visual inspection. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She must’ve still been floating on the adrenaline high, because she grinned at him. “Did you see me beat him up?”
His mouth twitched up in one of his familiar smiles. “Just the end of it, but what I saw was impressive.”
Her chest warmed. There was something about being useful in a dangerous situation that was more satisfying than being good at anything else. Her clumsy, semi-effective takedown gave her a huge thrill…but then she remembered her family.
“Did you find Cara or Molly? Any sign of our dog?”
He shook his head, and Norah’s stomach clenched again. Did Zach have help? Did his accomplices have her sisters? Before she could start thinking up every worst-case scenario, a voice from the bedroom doorway made her whirl around.
“We take the dog on a quick walk around the block, and all hell breaks loose. I’m guessing this is Dash,” Molly said, and Cara craned to see over her shoulder from her position behind Molly. “We’ll need to see his hands.”
“Oh, he’s on our side,” Norah hurried to say, taking a step sideways to put herself between her sisters and Dash. Warrant wiggled his way past her two sisters to lean his heavy body against Norah’s legs. She’d never been more grateful to see the big furry beast. “Zach Fridley was hiding in the closet, and Dash knocked him out.”
“You beat him up first,” Dash said, and Norah gave him an appreciative smile over her shoulder. It was nice of him to share the credit.
“Oh, we don’t need to check if he’s holding a weapon.” Molly sounded amused, which made Norah worry what was coming next.
Sure enough, Cara leaned to the side to get a better view of Dash. “We want to see if his hands are sinewy.”
Norah groaned as her sisters laughed. She refused to look at Dash, since she didn’t want to explain what they meant. She didn’t even know if she could explain her sisters’ goofiness. Instead, she focused on Zach’s still limp form. “Should we call the cops? An ambulance?” she suggested doubtfully. Her lungs still felt tight, so she absently pulled her inhaler from her pocket and took a puff.
“You know that Denver detective will show up as soon as the dispatcher gives our address,” Cara said, her mischievous smile disappearing as she wrinkled her nose.
“Cara’s right.” Molly’s grin dropped away as well. “Detective Mill will use this as an excuse to search our house again, and he’ll just let Zach walk anyway. That’ll just make him more confident about breaking in again.” She eyed the unconscious man as if she seriously wanted to get a couple of kicks in.
“Can you call Sergeant Blake?” Cara suggested. “She’ll be on our side at least.”
Looking gloomy, Molly shook her head. “She’s on thin ice after mouthing off to Mill after the chief ordered everyone to be on their best behavior. Besides, Lieutenant Botha told her she can’t respond to our family’s calls anymore, at least until the stolen necklace case is closed. The local cops want to give the appearance of objectivity now that everyone’s eyes are on them because of Mom’s theft.”
“Your neighbor home?” Dash asked, drawing everyone’s gaze. Even Warrant abandoned Norah to sniff the newcomer. Dash used his hand that wasn’t still balled in Zach’s shirt to scratch the dog behind his ears, making his heavy tail thump happily against the hardwood floor.
“Which one?” Molly asked. “Mr. Petra?”
“He the sour guy always peeking through his window blinds?”
Norah had to snort at the accurate description. Using her inhaler a second time, she dropped it back into her pocket.
“That’s Mr. P. Yes, he’s gone. He always golfs on Sunday mornings,” Cara answered.
With a short nod, Dash shifted his grip to the back of Zach’s shirt and started dragging him toward the hallway. Norah quickly moved out of his way, trusting that he had a plan, but Molly held her ground, blocking his path.
“What’s the plan?”
“Having a plan is important to Molly,” Norah explained as Cara made a noise in her throat that sounded like a laugh turned into a cough.
Dash lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “Dump him on the sour neighbor’s porch and pick the lock. Call the cops and tell them I was jogging by and saw him breaking in. He came at me, so I put him down.”
Molly studied him as he stood calmly, waiting for her response. Finally, she stepped aside. “I like how your Dash thinks,” she said to Norah approvingly.
Norah felt her face warm as she debated whether to argue that he wasn’t technically her Dash. She wasn’t sure what would give her the right to full possession, but his lips had touched her ear multiple times, they’d danced together, and he approved of her somewhat bumbling fighting technique. It was starting to feel like she had at least a minor stake in him.
As she mentally debated the point, Dash dragged Zach out of the room and down the hall. Shaking herself out of her introspection, she trailed after him. “Want help?”
“Do you care if he has a few bruises tomorrow?” he asked in response.
She met Molly’s and then Cara’s gazes, and she knew their opinion on the matter matched hers. “Not at all.”
“Then I’m good.” He started down the stairs, dragging Zach behind him. Every bump of Zach’s body against the hardwood steps made Norah wince yet, at the same time, also made her unreasonably satisfied.
“Seriously, Norah,” Molly said under her breath as they followed the two men down the stairs. “This one’s a keeper.”
Norah swallowed a smile before moving to catch up with the man in question.
When he reached the front door, Dash hauled Zach onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Norah and her sisters clustered behind him, ready to follow him over to Mr. P’s, but he shook his head. “Better not take the chance that any of you are seen.”
“How’re you getting him next door without the Villaneaus spotting you?” Norah asked.
“Oh, they’re gone too,” Cara interjected before Dash could say anything. “Sunday brunch at the Hotel Royale, remember?”
“Right.” Norah had known that. She blamed her unusual absentmindedness on the stressful morning she’d just had. Moving to the picture window, she looked out onto the street that was empty except for Dash’s SUV. “You’re clear.” Glancing over, she felt a tug in her belly. “Be careful. Thank you for doing this.”
“Yes, this is really nice of you,” Cara added as Molly nodded in agreement.
He shrugged off their thanks as well as he could with an unconscious person draped across his shoulders. Molly opened the door for him, and he stepped outside, the screen door screeching as usual. Norah was pretty sure she’d never be able to hear it without remembering the fear from that morning. As soon as Molly closed the door behind him, Norah hurried to set the alarm.
“Did you set the alarm before you took Warrant for a walk?” she asked, trying to take comfort in the alarm armed message and red light that indicated the security system was on.
“Of course,” Cara said with a bit of an offended huff. “It’s not like I’d forget after being kidnapped and all.”
Molly patted her sister on the shoulder, getting that fiercely protective look she always wore whenever Cara’s abduction was mentioned. “It was definitely set. I triple-checked it.”
Norah frowned. She would’ve felt more secure if they’d forgotten to set it. “It was off when Dash and I arrived, and the front door was open.”
Leaving her sisters to process that disturbing news, Norah moved to a small side window so she could watch as Dash carefully navigated the lawn that separated their house from Mr. P’s. “I should’ve offered to pick the lock for him.”
“Something tells me that man can pick a lock,” Molly said, squeezing next to her so she could watch out the window as well. “I’m telling you. He’s a find. Knocks out a bad guy with one punch and then cleans up the mess? Winner, winner, chicken dinner.”
Maneuvering between them, Cara joined them. “He has really nice hands too. Not quite as nice as Henry’s but still an honorable mention.”
Norah gave her sister a poke with her elbow. “You and your hand obsession.” It was hard to see well from their vantage point, but she could tell that Dash had dumped Zach unceremoniously onto Mr. P’s porch and looked to be making a call. It was short—the police, she guessed. Once he returned his phone to his pocket, he started working on the front door lock. “I still think I should’ve offered to pick the lock for him. It would’ve only been polite when he’s doing all the work just to save us some hassle.”
“If any of us should be picking the lock, it’s me,” Cara said. “I got the best time last practice.”
“When did you two become so interested in fieldwork?” Molly asked. “And can you please stop? Worrying about the pair of you is giving me an ulcer.”
Leaning forward so far that her nose almost touched the windowpane, Norah sucked in a breath. “Looks like Zach’s waking up.” His hands moved to clutch his head, and Norah couldn’t hold back her smirk. “Good. I hope his head hurts.”
With a snort, Molly said, “Look at you, Miss Ruthless.”
“He broke into our house…for the third time. Also, he stole your car and sold it to a weed dispensary that painted marijuana leaves all over it. And he hit Fifi over the head.” As she listed just some of Zach’s recent crimes against them, Norah found herself growing angry all over again. “Plus he stinks . Just wait until you smell how bad Cara and Charlie’s closet reeks now.”
Cara groaned. After a slight pause, she asked, “Think Dash needs us to knock the bastard out again?”
Norah seriously considered going to help, but Molly just said dryly, “He has it under control. Look.”
Sure enough, Dash had Mr. P’s door unlocked and was currently hauling a groggy Zach to his feet and twisting one arm behind his back. He pushed him up against the house next to the slightly open door and held him with one hand while using the other to wipe the lock picks he’d just used on his sleeve. Tugging his sleeve over his hand, he used the improvised glove to tuck the tools into Zach’s pocket. As the man wriggled in his grip, Dash pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Dash is an ice-cold badass,” Cara said as if making an announcement of vital importance. “And I say that as someone who is dating another one.”
“Agreed.” Molly was watching Dash handle the burglar with professional approval. “Look how he’s keeping him pinned with only one hand. Sometimes I wish I were that big. It would make my job so much easier.”
“Maybe.” Cara didn’t sound convinced. “You’d lose the element of surprise though. If you were six four and covered in muscle, all the skips would see you coming and either run or grab their guns. Dash was able to get the jump on Zach because he was just expecting to deal with us poor, defenseless ladies .” She cooed the last three words, her mile-long eyelashes batting innocently.
“Plus, I’d just beaten up Zach, so he was off-balance because of that.” As admirable as Dash was, Norah felt a little miffed he was receiving all the credit.
“Right,” Cara agreed. “And it was easier for Norah to pummel him because he wasn’t expecting it. Our small adorableness is part of our disguise, hiding the ferocious warrior women within.”
Molly appeared to be considering that when Norah’s phone buzzed with a call. Her tightly strung nerves made her jump, but she quickly recovered and pulled out her phone. As she’d expected, Dash was calling her.
She accepted the call and immediately asked, “Why are you on your phone? Don’t you need that hand for other things right now?”
He gave one of his rusty, short laughs. “I’ve got him. Just figured you and your sisters would want to listen in.”
In the background, she could hear Zach’s groggy questions growing increasingly louder and more heated. The sound of a faint siren joined his complaints.
“We would. Thank you.” Turning the phone on speaker, she placed it on the windowsill in front of them.
“It’s like a drive-in movie,” Cara whispered, making Molly laugh.
“Quiet. You’re on speaker,” Dash warned.
The command in his tone made Norah press her lips together as if preventing words from accidentally leaking out. A sideways glance showed her sisters both covering their mouths with their hands, and Norah had to smother a nervous giggle. They were like two copies of the “speak no evil” monkey. It wouldn’t be the worst idea to mute their side of the conversation, but she didn’t want to lose the option of being heard. What if they had to shout a warning?
A marked police car pulled up at the curb in front of Mr. Petra’s house, and Dash casually dropped the hand holding his phone to his side. Before the first cop had even managed to get his door open, an all-too-familiar unmarked sedan parked behind him. Norah winced at the sight, holding back the groan that wanted to escape. Just as they’d thought, Detective Mill had heard the dispatched call and come running, even though the address wasn’t theirs. She was so grateful to Dash for taking the heat. Even the thought of Mill and the other cops tramping through their house again, tearing things apart in a poorly concealed effort to find any hint of the necklace, made her stomach hurt.
The uniformed cop, a balding man in his fifties, was one Norah vaguely remembered from her infrequent research-related visits to the police station to get copies of incident reports. He eyed Mill with obvious resentment but also a heaping helping of resignation before moving toward where Dash had Zach restrained on Mr. Petra’s porch.
Mill followed a step behind, his gaze darting from the pair of men to the Pax house. Norah resisted the urge to pull back from the window, knowing that the motion would just catch the detective’s eye. Also, there was nothing illegal about gaping through the window at the neighbors’ police drama. If it had been, Mr. P would’ve been a repeat offender.
Cara’s elbow poked her in the ribs, making Norah glance at her sister. He’s the woooorst, Cara mouthed, and Norah nodded vehemently in agreement. Even though he’d been cleared of the crimes his former partner had been charged with, Mill still seemed shady, and he tried his best to make the Pax sisters’ lives as miserable as possible.
“Sir, release him and step over there.” The officer stopped at the base of the porch steps, ignoring Mill now that all his attention was focused on the two men.
“He’ll run,” Dash warned, and the rather portly cop seemed to reconsider. Norah couldn’t blame him. Of all the tortures Felicity put them through during their early morning training sessions, the sprints were the worst. Sprinting with Dash chasing her in the mountains hadn’t seemed so bad though. In fact, that’d been…exhilarating. Her face immediately burned hot, even though her sisters couldn’t hear her randy thoughts.
The officer seemed to decide he didn’t want a foot chase and climbed the porch steps, skirting the ceramic pots filled with fall flowers. Once he got a hand on Zach’s free arm, he nodded to Dash, who released his hold and stepped away from the two men. Just as Dash predicted, Zach twisted around, trying to tear free of the cop’s grip. The officer gave a shout as he struggled to pin Zach back against the wall, and Mill rushed up the steps to help.
Molly reached behind Cara and poked Norah. Once she had both of her sisters’ attention, Molly mimed eating popcorn. Norah muffled a laugh behind her hand, hoping that any sound that escaped was covered by the wrestling match happening next door. When she looked through the window again, she saw that the cops had gotten Zach down on the porch floor. The uniformed officer had a knee pressed into his back, and he and Mill managed to yank Zach’s arms behind him.
The cop grabbed his handcuffs off his belt and moved to put them on Zach’s left wrist, but Zach wiggled around like a fish, torquing his body so his feet swung around toward the steps. Grunts and breathless shouts echoed from the phone speaker, followed by a loud crash as the flowerpot on the top step went flying, a victim of Zach’s flailing feet.
Norah met her sisters’ equally wide eyes. Mr. Petra was going to be pissed when he saw that. She felt a small pang of guilt for dumping their problem on his doorstep—literally—but quickly dismissed it. Mr. P had caused their family enough hassle over the years. He could deal with a scuff on his pristine porch and a lost flowerpot or two.
The cops finally got Zach cuffed, and the uniformed officer pulled him to his feet, puffing hard enough for Norah to hear his breathing through her phone.
“He attacked me for no reason!” Zach was the first one to suck in enough air to speak. “I don’t even know him, and he hit me hard enough to knock me out. I think I have a concussion thanks to him.”
The cop ignored his ranting, donning gloves before patting Zach down. When he pulled out the lock picks, holding them up so Mill could see them, Norah squirmed with excitement. Things had been going so badly for them the past several weeks. It was such a relief to have something finally go right.
Finishing his search, the cop shoved him toward Mill. “Stick him in my car, would you? We’ll talk to this guy first.” He gestured at Dash, who was leaning against the porch railing far enough away that he was out of reach if Zach tried to kick out but close enough to allow Norah and her sisters to hear everything.
Although Mill looked sour, likely from being treated like the uniform cop’s lackey, he did as he was asked, hauling Zach down the steps toward the cars parked at the curb. As they reached the sidewalk, Zach swore, kicking out at the decorative glass globe next to him. It exploded with a crash that made Norah jerk back with a wince, that sliver of guilt for messing with Mr. P’s property poking at her again.
The cop copied Dash’s name and other information off his license before handing it back. “So what happened here?”
“I was on a run and saw that guy breaking in.” He gestured toward the door that still sat ajar. “I stopped him. He tried to hit me. I punched him in the face. Knocked him out for a bit. Called 911. He came to, so I pinned him against the house until you arrived.”
Norah had to smile at his Hemingwayesque way of telling a story. She appreciated that about Dash. Everything was laid out clearly and succinctly with no room to agonize over hidden meanings.
The cop eyed the phone still in his hand. “Were you videoing us earlier?”
“No. Called my girlfriend. She was worried.”
Norah felt her face warm at the “girlfriend” mention, and she very carefully didn’t look at her sisters. Even though he was just making up a story, the word still made her stomach flutter in a new way she wasn’t sure she fully approved of.
“Knocked him out in one hit?” At Dash’s affirmative tip of his chin, the cop continued. “You in law enforcement?”
This time, Dash shook his head.
“Military?”
Dash gave a short nod. “Now I own a gym.”
“Ah.” The cop seemed to relax a little now that he had an explanation for Dash’s skills. “You were on a run? You’re a long ways from home.”
“Five and a quarter miles.” Norah saw Dash’s shoulder lift in one of his familiar shrugs. “Today was a distance run.”
“Huh.” The cop sounded skeptical, but Norah was pretty sure he didn’t doubt Dash’s story. He was more confused by why anyone would purposefully run without being forced. She could relate. “You know the homeowner?”
“No.”
“How’d you know that guy was breaking in then? Maybe he just locked himself out.”
“He was picking the lock.” Dash didn’t hesitate in answering. “When I approached him, he tried to hit me.”
“Do you know anyone who lives at that house?” Mill’s question made Norah jump. She’d been so focused on Dash’s interview she hadn’t noticed him returning to the porch after locking Zach in the back of the squad car.
Dash turned and focused his flattest, most intimidating stare on Mill. “Who are they?”
“The last name’s Pax. A mother and five grown daughters.”
“There’s a Pax who trains at my gym.”
Norah had to admire Dash’s ability to so coolly misdirect without actually lying. If she were being questioned by the cops, she knew she’d turn red and stammer horribly, even if every word out of her mouth was true.
Although it was hard to tell from a distance, Norah got the impression Mill had perked up at Dash’s admission. “What’s her first name?”
He did his usual one-shoulder shrug. “I’d have to look it up. Why?”
“Why isn’t important. Let me know her full name once you have it.” Mill handed Dash a business card. “And whatever else you know about her—when she usually comes to the gym, who she hangs out with, any details you can think of, even if you don’t think they’re important.”
Although Dash accepted the card, he didn’t promise the detective anything.
The uniformed officer, obviously unhappy with Mill butting into his interview, cleared his throat. “What do you—”
His question was cut off as Mr. P’s new Infiniti flew past the cops’ cars and up the driveway in a streak of shiny black. He screeched to a stop just short of the closed garage door.
“What’s going on?” Mr. Petra shrieked as he tried to get out of his vehicle, only to become tangled in the retracting seat belt. Once he’d fought his way free, he ran toward the porch. When he saw the destroyed globe, he came to an abrupt stop. “What happened ?”
Mill and the other officer exchanged a look. “Why don’t you talk to the homeowner while I finish this interview?” the cop said.
“Why don’t I take over the interview?” Mill suggested, condescension heavy in his voice.
If Norah hadn’t already seriously disliked Mill before eavesdropping on this latest encounter, just this would’ve made her loathe him.
When the uniformed cop’s jaw set mulishly and he started to protest, Mill raised a hand to silence him. “I’m the detective here.” He waved toward Mr. Petra as if telling the other cop to go clean up a mess before turning to Dash.
With a shake of his head, Dash maneuvered around Mill and started down the steps. “I have to go. Call if you have any other questions.”
“Wait—” Mill’s protest was quickly drowned out by Mr. Petra, who’d given up on trying to piece his precious yard ornament back together.
“Who are you?” Mr. P demanded, loud enough that Norah could hear him in stereo from the phone speaker and through the window. “What are you doing on my porch? Are you responsible for this… destruction ?” He moved in front of Dash, blocking his way, and Norah held back a laugh. Mr. P’s slight form looked very small compared to Dash, giving the impression of a Chihuahua trying to stop a mastiff.
“The one responsible is handcuffed in the back of my car,” the cop said. “This is the Good Samaritan who appears to have stopped the burglary.”
Mr. Petra didn’t seem to be appeased by this. If anything, his voice got louder as he turned to glare at the squad car. Sunlight reflecting off the windows made it hard to see inside. “Who is it? It’s one of those women isn’t it?”
He flung a hand toward Norah’s house, and she found herself flinching back from the sheer venom in his voice. It made her regret feeling any sort of guilt about Mr. P’s involvement. He was an awful, unpleasant man who didn’t deserve a single intact lawn ornament.
Mill and the other cop both turned to look at the Pax house, and Norah drew back farther, positive that they were glaring right at her. A glance to her right made her see that her sisters were doing the same.
“Why would you think that?” Mill asked, sounding almost eager.
The uniformed officer cleared his throat, but Mr. Petra, probably sensing an ally in Pax hate, quickly spat, “They’re the source of all the trouble in this neighborhood and most of it in this town. Not a day goes by that the police or some disreputable trash person isn’t hanging around. And the state of their place brings all our property values down. I pray every day that they decide to sell.”
Norah literally bit her tongue to hold back a torrent of defensive words that wanted to escape. Normally, she wouldn’t dream of arguing with anyone, even over the phone, but he had crossed a line. No one could say bad things about her family…well, except for her. She turned her head and saw that both of her sisters were struggling to hold in laughter, and some of her wrath dissolved. She was still annoyed when she turned back to the show on her neighbor’s porch though.
“Let’s get Mr. Fridley’s statement before making any more accusations against your neighbors.” The uniformed cop interrupted Mr. Petra mid-rant. Norah was starting to think the officer wasn’t half-bad, at least compared to Mill. He turned to Dash. “You’re free to go. I’ll call with any follow-up questions.”
With a short nod, Dash circled around Mr. P with what Norah considered great restraint. If she’d been the one out there, she didn’t think she could’ve resisted a solid shoulder check after the way Mr. P talked about them.
As Dash walked away from the others, the cop’s voice faded. The last thing they heard before he got too far away was the cop speaking to Mr. P. “Why don’t you stay here with the detective, and I’ll go talk to the suspect.”
Both Mill and Mr. P looked sour about that plan, but they stayed in place as the cop headed for the squad car. Dash reached the street first and started jogging away from Norah’s house. She watched his muscular form move out of sight before speaking.
“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 was crouched 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 become that neighbor? 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.