Lola’s definitely taken a walk or two on the wild side.
She continues to stare at me, then her gaze drops. To my hand. And the treats. Lola suddenly wiggles her butt, swishes her tail, flattens her ear and a half, and leaps, knocking the delicacies she desires from my hand. She rips openthe bag and gobbles up the treats before turning and stalking away, tail up, and I can see...
The pompoms are deflated but they must have been something else.
“Lola’s a boy.”
Marlowe glares at me again. “Don’t you have to go now? I know Lola’s a boy. What’s wrong with you?”
“I think, and don’t take this the wrong way, that Lola’s a street fightin’ cat, love. A big, gray, mean-looking street cat.” Then I glance at Fiona. “No wonder, Fiona here’s a little mean. She’s trying not to get eaten. Any more animals? A killer ant farm? Snakes?”
“There’s… Pepper.”
“Who is…?” I shake my head and cross my arms. “Never mind. Tell me the truth. Why did you go to the club?”
“Why did you follow me?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and walk to the bookshelf, flipping through some leather-bound book that I pay zero attention to. “Someone with a gun came after you, Molly. It was the guy from the club.”
“Don’t lie.” She stalks up and snatches the book away, but it’s a mistake on her part because it puts us in close contact again. Very close.
Especially when I close the gap so we’re almost touching.
Her pupils dilate.
“Who’s Leon, really?” I ask.
“I told you.”
“Humor me. Tell me more, Marlowe.”
“My friend. He’s helping me. I told you that my father’s missing. Mom claims he left but I don’t believe it. Nobody is doing anything to find him, so I’m using whatever connections I can.” Her lip trembles. “I went to the club to see if anyone hadheard from Leon. The guy I spoke to is a friend of his. Leon tried calling me when you dropped me off the first time, but I didn’t answer.” Her eyes drop to the floor for a second. “I guess maybe I got a little suspicious, too. And I wanted to make sure I wasn’t being played. I promise you, I am just trying to find my dad.”
Her pained gaze holds a flicker of hope and a lot of love for the man.
I get it.
Wanting to find your da.
When Da went to prison, I was too young to fully grasp it all. I didn’t get why he didn’t come back, why our lives changed so drastically. My brothers tried to protect me. But I didn’t want protection.
So I get it.
I get her.
Someone was after her tonight; I only came up here because what if the guy planned to follow her here?
The front door slams. “Get me Milo, fast...” The voice cuts into the air and a whirlwind of Chanel No. Five swirls in along with an elegant woman with stubbornly blonde hair I’m betting’s red under all that expensive salon work. “I don’t care. I have?—“
She stops short when she sees me. The woman…Marlowe’s mother, I presume, is hard and sharp. Makes Marlowe look warm by comparison.
She hangs up the phone.
“Do not tell me you’ve reached the stage of bringing riff raff home to annoy me, Marlowe,” she says. Then she glances at me with a lifted eyebrow.
I turn on my best, thickest Irish brogue for her. “Ah, ye’ve got it wrong, ye have. I found the wee lass in a club nearby. He followed her out and had a concealedweapon. I saved her, brought her home.” I watch her face. She isn’t shocked. “I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
I wait.
