Dana winced and put her hand to her belly.
“You okay?” Gemma asked.
“Yes. Just the little one moving around, and I already feel a bit nauseated this morning.” Dana exhaled. “Isn’t morning sickness supposed to end after the first trimester? I keepgetting sick.”
“Everyone is different,” Gemma said, remembering the first time Trudy had moved in her body. “I was sick a lot, too. But I was also scared and running, so I never knew what caused my nausea, you know?” It felt so good to be able to talk about her real life to someone she trusted.
Dana reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Do you think you’ll ever have more kids?”
Gemma’s smile felt sad. “No. I understand you all think you have a chance against Monty, but he won’t stop coming for me or for Trudy, now that he knows about her. The law is on his side, and even if he loses everything, he won’t give up. I’ll be running until she’s eighteen, and then maybe I can relax.” Even so, Monty would probably keep coming.
It was impossible to think she could outrunhim that long.
The front door opened and Wolfe stepped inside the small vestibule, ditching his jacket and boots, snow on his black hair. “This storm isn’t abating in the slightest,” he complained, stalking toward them like a wild animal and kissing Dana on the head. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Dana said, looking up and smiling at him. “Gemma doesn’t think we can get her ex to leave her alone.”
Wolfe grinned. “I guess we’ll have to prove it to her.”
Gemma shook her head. “If we stay within the law, we don’t have a leg to stand on. I can’t prove his abuse.” She held up her hand before Wolfe could argue. “I won’t go outside the law and hurt him. Ican’t do that.”
Wolfe strode to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Jethro Hanson’s physical prowess is trumped only by his strategic genius. If he wants Monty out of your life in a legal way, he’ll do it. Don’t underestimate him.”
“I won’t,” Gemma said quietly. “I don’t understand theplan, though.”
“There isn’t one yet,” Wolfe said easily. “Brigid and Raider need to gather all the relevant information, and then we’ll come up with a plan. Don’t worry. It’s what we do.” He shrugged. “It’s what we do sometimes. Other times we take down the mob, stop bombings, solve murders…” He took another deep gulp of the coffee and then sighed. “We need whipped creamand sprinkles.”
Dana pushed her hair over her shoulder. “We have someat our house.”
Trudy toddled out from the hallway with Roscoe on her heels. Her hair was a wild mess and crayon marker covered her right hand. Shegrinned. “Wuf.”
“Hey, Sugar Plum,” Wolfe said. “How was your night?”
She ran toward him, expectingto be lifted.
He obliged. “You hungry?”
She nodded and patted his cheeks. “Wuf, where’s Jet-ro?”
Gemma tried not to be insulted that her daughter had become attached to the men in their lives and seemed to be forgetting her. She smiled. It was good for Trudy to see strong and good men.
“Jethro is running an errand, sweetling. Hopefully he’ll be back soon,” Wolfe said.
Gemma frowned. “What kind of errand?”
“He didn’t say.” Wolfe almost succeeded in hidinghis own frown.
What the heckdid that mean?
Chapter Thirty
Jethro drove exactly one hundred miles east of his former apartment, finding four motels within a block radius. He scrutinized the names of the places, having to squint through the nor’easter. He drove by each, checking out the names, and discovered Blue Motel, Robin Motel, Motel Seven, and Jackson’s Motel.
Fair enough. Motels with an animal name or a female name were always where his team would regroup when they couldn’t text each other.
His gun beneath his seat, he returned to Robin Motel, which had a light blue exterior with pale yellow metal doors. The L-shaped building held two stories, and a light in the office blinked through the storm. The parking lot was half-full, and many of the vehicles were buried in snow. He parked and counted four from the left, finding room number eight on the first floor.
He dodged out of the truck he’d borrowed from Raider because his friend was out of town and tucked the gun at the back of his waist beneath his battered brown leather jacket. Then he ran through the storm, reaching the door and knocking rapidly. “Open up.”
