Chapter 4

“Cara!” Molly burst back into the kitchen. “What car did Charlie and Felicity take?”

Her eyes wide and startled, Cara stared at her for a fraction of a second before answering. “Charlie’s. Why?” Before Molly could wrestle her building rage down enough to answer, Cara’s eyes got even bigger. “Oh, no. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She’s in jail.”

She did. Molly wasn’t sure how their mother had managed it, but she—or one of her shady friends—had taken her car. No, Jane had stolen her car. She yanked out her cell phone and jabbed at the screen, her fingers shaking with anger and, although she didn’t want to admit it, devastation that her own mother would do something like this to her. Why couldn’t they have ended up with a nice mom, one who’d actually put food in the fridge rather than eating the groceries her kids had bought, one who’d helped her daughter pick out a car to buy rather than stealing her own child’s hard-earned Prius?

“Who are you texting?” Cara asked, her voice tentative and shaky.

After hitting Send, she started a second text as she hurried through the living room. “Felicity and Norah. Charlie’s car’s gone, and I know that Norah walked, but I just need to make sure that none of them have mine before I report it.”

Cara followed her to the window, where they both looked out at the empty driveway and street in front of the house. “Report it…stolen?”

Tearing her glare away from spot where Jane’s car had sat yesterday evening, Molly narrowed her eyes at Cara. “Yes. I’m reporting it stolen because she stole it. I told her I’d call it in if she took my car last night, and that’s what I’m about to do. I’m done babying her. She’s our parent, Cara. We’ve given her too many chances as it is.”

She would’ve continued, but Cara held up her hands, palms out, as if blocking Molly’s words from hitting her. “You’re right.” Cara didn’t sound happy about it, but she didn’t sound angry—at Molly, at least. “You should report it stolen. I’m just so used to covering for her, which doesn’t help anything. It’s just…could it have been someone else?”

Her sister sounded so miserable that Molly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, but she didn’t soften her next words. “Yeah, it probably was someone else—one of her shady buddies she convinced to take it.” Molly’s phone beeped with two incoming texts, and she checked the messages, her rage bubbling up again when both Felicity and Norah confirmed that they hadn’t taken her car. With an angry flick of her thumb, she scrolled through her contacts until she reached Sergeant Taylor Blake’s name.

After several rings, Molly was preparing to leave a voicemail when the sergeant finally answered brusquely. “Blake.”

“Sergeant, it’s Molly Pax.”

“Pax.” Her tone softened ever so slightly. For the hard-edged cop, that was the equivalent of anyone else gushing with sympathy. “Heard your mom fell off the straight and narrow again.”

Hearing the blunt statement felt like a punch to the gut, but it was nothing if not true. “She has—in a big way. She’s been in jail since very early this morning, but she’s still managed to somehow steal my car.”

There was the tiniest pause before the sergeant spoke again, her voice impartial and matter-of-fact. “You’re sure it was her?”

“Positive.” There was no doubt in her mind that Jane had been the one behind her car’s disappearance. “If it wasn’t her, then she talked one of her friends into taking it and told them where I keep my keys. She tried to convince me to lend it to her last night, but I refused. Everyone was out of the house for a little over an hour this morning, from about quarter to six until seven. Otherwise, at least two people have been home since I last saw my car parked in the garage.” As she spoke, she examined the outside of the front door, looking for signs that the lock had been tampered with. There was nothing she could see that showed anyone had tried to break in. Closing and locking the front door behind her, she moved to check the garage door, as well. Cara trailed after her like an apprehensive ghost.

“Anyone else have permission to drive it?”

“Sure, my sisters, but I’ve checked with all of them, and none have touched it.” As much as she wanted to stay as professional and clinical-sounding as the sergeant, a thread of her anger snuck out. “They also aren’t the ones who are going to need bail money over the next day or two.”

The mention of money made her head snap up, and she rushed back to where she’d dropped her backpack on the kitchen counter. Yanking out her wallet, she quickly checked inside and bit back a snarl.

“All the cash in my purse—about eighty dollars—and our business ATM card are missing. I’m going to pass you over to Cara, so she can answer your questions while I call my bank.” She and Cara exchanged phones, and Molly hurried to find the bank’s phone number. As the automated answering system’s spiel began, she resisted the urge to sink down onto the kitchen floor and curl up in a ball.

She knew, deep in her gut, that this was only the tip of the iceberg. Things would only get worse from here.

* * *

“What’s the total loss?” Even though Molly asked the question, she wasn’t really sure she wanted the answer. Just a day ago, she’d been blissfully ignorant about what Jane had been planning, and she wished she could go back to that time…mainly so she could hide her keys and wallet somewhere that Jane or one of her felonious buddies would never find them. After spending hours trying to sort out the mess their mother had made, all five of them had gathered around the dining room table to hash out the next steps of their damage-control plan.

Cara and Norah tipped their heads together, both peering at the spreadsheet Norah had whipped up once she’d gotten home and been apprised of the situation. “Sergeant Blake filed the stolen vehicle and burglary report and put out a BOLO for your car, but it still hasn’t been found. We’ve initiated the insurance claim,” Norah said.

“The bank’s canceled your card and started an investigation,” Cara continued from where Norah had left off. “We’ll probably be reimbursed for the purchases—fifteen hundred at Walmart and nine hundred at Tiny’s Automotive Repair—but the business is out the four hundred withdrawn from the ATM this morning, plus the cash taken from your purse…and all the hassle and aggravation.” Cara gave Molly a shaky attempt at a sympathetic smile. “It doesn’t look like anything else is missing from the house—that we’ve noticed, at least.”

“Okay.” Inhaling a breath, Molly blew it out in a long sigh. “This is a four-hundred-and-eighty-dollar life lesson, then. I’m voting that we learn from this and never let Mom move back in, no matter how guilty she tries to make us feel. Who’s with me?”

“I am.” Norah was the first to agree. “We’ve given her too many chances and too much money already. We’re the ones who paid off the mortgage on this house, and we should get to decide who stays here.”

Charlie nodded vehemently. “Let’s change the locks and pretend we’re orphans—well, except for when Lono comes to visit.”

Although it was more of a huff of air rather than an actual laugh, it was the closest Molly had come to smiling since she’d discovered the theft of her car. “I like your plan.” She held her fist out, and Charlie bumped it with hers. “Cara? What are your thoughts?” She braced to hear her sister defend their mom, ready to deflect the automatic guilt and stand strong. After Jane’s latest stunt, Molly did not want her mother in their house—or their lives—anymore. She was done.

“We’ve let her stay too long already,” Cara said, surprising Molly. “She’s almost fifty and a mother of five grown kids. She needs to learn to make it on her own, without us propping her up.”

Everyone looked at Felicity, who simply said, “Agreed. Mom’s out of the house, even after she gets herself out of her current situation.”

Despite the horrendous day she’d just had, Molly felt a slight easing of the tension banded around her lungs, making it easier to breathe. “Good. That’s decided, at least. Now let’s talk about work.” Picking up the folders, she waved them at her sisters. “Until we get reimbursed by the bank, things are going to be tight. The more skips we can bring in, the less ramen we’ll be eating.”

“Do we need to reconsider taking Barney’s job?” Cara asked with a preemptive wince.

Without having to consider the question, Molly immediately nixed it. “Tracking Sonny? Nope. We’re not that desperate yet.”

“Sonny?” Norah repeated, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“Edison Zarver.” Just saying the name made her stomach twist. She’d only met him in person once at the courthouse, but his soulless eyes had left a definite impression—and not a positive one. “He skipped, so Barney’s trying to convince us to track him down.”

“Ugh.” Charlie’s screwed-up face showed exactly how she felt about Sonny. “I’d rather eat ramen every day than get mixed up in Zarver’s slimy business.”

“That’s basically what Cara told Barney when he called.”

Her eyebrows shooting up, Charlie stared at her twin, looking impressed. “Really? You said that?”

Always meticulously honest, Cara rolled her eyes. “Not really.”

“Pretty close.” Molly refocused on what they’d been talking about before they’d gone off on their Sonny tangent. “Anyway, it’s a no to Sonny, but all of these are yeses.” She held up the folders and extended them toward her sisters. Felicity and Charlie each immediately took one, and Norah extended her hand but didn’t touch the folders as she looked at Molly, her expression anxious.

“Do I need to help out more on the actual bounty-hunting front?” she asked, her tone telling Molly how very unappealing she found that thought.

“Thank you,” Molly told her sincerely, giving her arm a squeeze, “but you stick with research and fixing our tech.” Pausing, she shot Charlie a stern glare. “Whenever possible, that is. If someone, say, runs over her brand-new laptop with her car, then it’s probably hopeless, and we won’t judge you for not being able to fix it. We will judge the person who ran over her brand-new laptop with her car, however. We will judge that person harshly.”

Norah appeared to be completely confused, but Charlie looked as guilty as Warrant when he was caught eating out of the garbage. Felicity’s expression, on the other hand, was pure triumph.

“I knew it!” Felicity crowed, slapping the table with her open palm. “I asked where your laptop was, and you did that mumble-mumble thing you always do when you’re trying to lie without really lying, and I knew you’d destroyed it somehow. Seriously, Charlie? You ran the poor thing over? Your innocent little laptop, crushed? What is that? Your second new computer this year? Third?”

Charlie opened her mouth, but a heavy knock on the door interrupted her before she could defend herself. They all went still, their eyes wide as they looked around at each other. Even Warrant, who’d been napping under the table, using Cara’s foot as a pillow this time, stuck his head out but stayed quiet. At the next, even louder knock, Molly shook herself out of her apprehensive paralysis and stood up. Her sisters followed her lead, and she snorted as she eyed them.

“Are we answering the door as a group?” she asked, leading the way to the front door. From the sound of the footsteps behind her, it seemed that the answer was yes. Privately, she didn’t mind the company at all. After everything that had happened with Jane, plus John Carmondy’s unexpected arrival early that morning, she didn’t mind having some backup—at least until their family’s luck changed for the better.

As she unlocked the front door and pulled it open, she squinted against the low-hanging sun that was perched right above the mountain peaks and peered at the pair standing on the porch. She bit back a curse when she saw the uniforms. She had enough fingerprint powder all over her kitchen and garage from Sergeant Blake’s visit, thank you very much. Besides, she didn’t have the energy to deal with more cops today.

One of her sisters didn’t have her restraint. A low, drawn groan came from behind her—Felicity, if Molly wasn’t mistaken.

“Hello, Officers.” Molly plastered on a smile and tried to remember their names. They looked slightly familiar, and she knew she’d run into them at some point in the past, but both were relatively new to the department. Their names were escaping her, and the way the sunlight reflected off of their bronze nametags made them impossible to read. “Are you here for some follow up on my stolen car?”

“No. We have a search warrant for this property,” the younger one said as the older cop silently and unsmilingly handed her the paperwork.

“Search warrant?” Her polite smile froze as she pulled out the warrant and scanned it, trying to push away her confusion and growing panic in order to take in the legalese. She knew she needed to focus so she could carefully check the areas the warrant allowed the cops to legally search and what items they were looking for.

“Give it here,” Cara said, plucking the paper from Molly’s hands. Once again relieved that her sisters were backing her up, Molly turned her attention back to the cops waiting not too patiently to get into the house.

“Bastien!” she blurted out as the older cop’s name popped into her head. “Officer Bastien, right?”

He gave her a slight nod, his gaze suspicious and closed.

“What’s all this about?” she asked. “Whatever our mom was arrested for this time, it can’t be major enough to require a search.” Except that auto theft’s pretty major, Molly thought. However, she knew that her car wasn’t hidden in her mom’s room.

“The judge disagrees,” the younger cop snapped, and the two entered the house. Her mind whirling with thoughts about the best way to handle the situation, Molly stepped back out of their way.

Once they were in the living room, she moved to close the door when she spotted three more vehicles pull up in front of the house: two unmarked and one with Crime Scene Unit printed on the side. The Villaneaus, a retired couple living across the street who were endlessly bitter that Molly’s family had the house with national park access instead of them, stepped outside and settled on their front-porch swing to watch the action.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, and Felicity—the only one who hadn’t followed the first two cops deeper inside—met her gaze with a look of mutual dread. “This is going to be a huge mess.”

Felicity’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “It already is.”

Molly couldn’t argue with that.