Hot Winter Nights (Heartbreaker Bay #6)(8)

Probably.

In any case, she’d loved getting a foot in the investigative door, but instead of satisfying her, she only craved more.

She wanted to go out in the field.

Archer had told her point-blank that while she had a brilliant mind and he was grateful for it, he couldn’t let her get hurt. Joe had been far less diplomatic, flatly refusing to discuss it with her. And that’s when she’d realized that when they looked at her they didn’t see brilliant investigation work, they saw vulnerability and weakness. And she got it. Appearance made a strong impression, and her physical appearance suggested weakness, not strength.

There was nothing she could do about that but prove them wrong.

“Need you to fax us the paperwork,” the insurance guy said in her ear after being on hold for thirty minutes. “I told you this already, last week.”

“Right,” Molly said. “I’ll just jump into my DeLorean and drive back to 1987 to get my fax machine. Can’t I just scan you the pages?”

“We don’t accept scans. They must be faxed or snail-mailed.”

She needed more caffeine for this, and after her call, she hit up the staff room, where she came face-to-face with Archer. She pointed at him. “You turned away those two sweet little old ladies who needed your help.”

“We don’t take those kinds of cases.”

She glared at him. “You mean old people cases?”

In typical Archer fashion, he refused to engage. “We’re booked up solid for the next five months. I don’t have the manpower available.”

“Or the interest?”

Archer didn’t sigh, but he looked like he wanted to. “Look, I know you’re bored. I know you want to do more. I get it. I’m working on it. But I’m not going to throw you into things without the proper training and field experience before you’re ready. You’ll eventually get a caseload of your own. I promise you that, but when it’s right. Okay?”

She sighed. “Okay.”

“You’re a valuable part of this company, Molly. I’m not just placating you here. All I’m asking for is a little patience on your end until you’re ready.”

“Are you sure it’s not the other way around? That you’re not ready for me?”

At that, she got a rare smile and a low laugh. “The world isn’t ready for you.” Archer let his smile fade. “But they will be, and when things happen, you’ll be prepared, and safe because of it.”

“And in the meantime?”

“I’m bringing you in on two new cases where we need your research and intel. They’re in your in-box waiting on you.”

She knew this was a bone, but she’d take it. And though she appreciated the vote of confidence, she was having trouble accessing her patience. Especially when she ran into Joe a few minutes later.

“You’re not taking on any cases,” her brother said flatly while stuffing a huge sandwich down his throat. He’d just come in from a takedown that had involved the entire team and he had three minutes before he had to head back out again for surveillance on another job.

His job rocked, dammit. “I think I have a right to do whatever job I want to do,” she said coolly.

Joe sighed and put down his sandwich. A rare occurrence, letting go of his food, signaling he was very serious. “Molly, listen to me. I can’t think of you in this job that I do, in the thick of it, with the constant danger.”

“And yet you do it. Do you think I don’t worry? Or that Kylie doesn’t?” she asked, referring to Joe’s better half.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said stubbornly.

The unspoken word being again. Because they both knew what he was really referring to, which was the one time she’d been involved in his world and she’d nearly died. She still carried the scars, inside and out.

He blamed himself.

But she did not. “Look,” she said softly, wanting to make him understand and end this discussion once and for all. “I’m smart. I’m resourceful. I’m resilient.”

He nodded his agreement, which warmed her just a little bit. “All things I learned from you,” she said and squeezed his hand, smiling at the look of surprise on his face. “You’ve always taken care of me, Joe. Always,” she repeated fiercely. “And I’m thankful and grateful for it. But I’m good, okay? I’m better than good. And it’s time for you to let me go, to let me make my own decisions.”

“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted. “But I’ll try.”

“Try real hard,” she suggested.





Chapter 3





#BadSanta



By the time Molly got home that evening, she was completely done in. She lived in Outer Sunset, about twenty minutes from work on a good day with no traffic.

But there was always traffic.

When she walked up the few steps to her apartment building, she found three elves waiting for her.

Seemed they’d multiplied.

The shortest elf was Mrs. Berkowitz, her neighbor. The other elf was Mrs. White, Mrs. Berkowitz’s knitting partner. Molly had never seen Elf Number Three before, who was younger than the other two by a good decade. “Evening, ladies,” Molly said, getting her first real smile of the day. “Looking good.”