With that, he joined Baz and Tesha in the truck. He waited for Baz to say something, but he remained silent as Brantley navigated his way out of downtown.
“I should’ve told her,” Baz muttered as Brantley was pulling onto Baz and JJ’s street. “I should’vewarnedher.”
“Warned her about what?” Brantley asked, keeping his tone cool. “There’s no way you could’ve known this would happen.”
“She’s fucking crazy,” Baz hissed. “Batshit. Fucking. Crazy.”
Brantley knew who he was referring to, but he asked simply to keep Baz talking. “Who?”
“Molly.”
“Do you think she’s capable of hurting JJ?”
“I never would’ve thought her capable of conning me into believing she was having my baby, so I honestly can’t say. I fucking hope not.”
Brantley didn’t know all the details of what transpired between Baz and Molly, but he’d been surprised to find out Baz thought he was going to be a father. As far as he knew, Baz had never introduced anyone to Molly, even after he stepped up to the plate to take care of his responsibilities. The following months consisted of Baz’s phone blowing up during inconvenient times when Molly decided she needed his attention.
Brantley steered down the tree-lined street, glancing briefly at the man practically vibrating in the passenger seat. Tesha chose that moment to peer between the seats, her attention on Baz. Clearly, the dog could sense the man’s panic.
“It’s okay, girl,” Brantley assured her. “If we’re wrong, and this isn’t Molly, do you know anyone else who’d want to hurt JJ?”
Baz’s head snapped around, his glare hot enough to melt steel. “It’s Molly. She’s a goddamn psychopath.”
Brantley knew that wasn’t the medical diagnosis, but he suspected Baz’s comment was his fear talking more than anything. It was true. Molly Elizabeth Ryan had been diagnosed with schizophrenia at a young age—a fact Luca had shared via text message a few minutes ago—but he got the feeling Baz wasn’t being literal. He was ranting because he was terrified. He couldn’t blame the guy.
“She’s the only one dumb enough to do this,” Baz muttered, staring out the window at his house.
Pointing fingers at Molly seemed logical based on their recent encounter with the redhead, but Brantley had to consider all the options.
“Have you thought this might have something to do with Dante Greenwood?”
Baz’s gaze snapped toward him. “You think…?”
Brantley didn’t know what to think at this point, but he wouldn’t rule anything out just yet.
“Son of a bitch,” Baz groaned.
Yeah. That was precisely what Brantley was thinking.
Chapter Three
9:30A.M.
“Where’d your friend go?” JJ asked Mollywhen they were alone.
Molly looked behind her as though she might see someone there.
“Sorry,” JJ added. “I didn’t get his name.”
“Sonny,” she said cheerfully. “Sonny Gilmore.”
If this were one of the TV shows she and Baz watched, she would’ve announced to Baz that the kidnappee was going to die because now she knew the identity of her kidnapper. In this instance, she was reasonably sure Molly was simply too stupid to know better than to share that detail. At least she hoped because the alternative did not inspire confidence.
“How do you know him?”
“We were in … a … uh…”
JJ waited patiently for Molly to come up with an answer that didn’t include the wordhospitalbecause she would bet good money that was where they met. A psychiatric one, to be more specific.
