Page 40 of Protecting What Is Mine

I nod in acknowledgement as I spread butter across my stack of pancakes. “Right. Good memory.”

“Are you really going to go back there empty handed?”

“Where? Back to Chet’s room?” I ask around a bite of syrupy goodness. “I’ll go back through the line and get his fresh after I see you to your car.”

Mollie offers a smile, but there’s something off about it.

“What’s the matter? You thinking about what Chet said? Don’t sweat it for a second. Last I checked, we’re full grown adults, capable of making our own decisions. You just have to learn to ignore him.”

“No, it’s not that. Actually, I think he’s probably right on the money about the Clint situation. It’s you…and your family…the way you look out for each other. It’s something special. I hope you know that.”

“I’ve always thought Gabe was the special one of the family. But to be fair, I’d bet good money, he’d say the same about me.” I sip my coffee. “Are you serious about wanting to talk to the sheriff?”

“Mm-hmm.” Mollie nods as she blows on a spoonful of oatmeal before taking a bite.

I set my fork on the edge of the plate and retrieve my phone from my pocket to text Gabe.

Me: What’s Cody’s number? I need to talk to him.

“Alright. I’ll get his number and set something up,” I say as I set my phone down. “When do you want to do it?”

Mollie lifts a brow but says nothing, allowing my words to hang in the air.

I chuckle, ready with a naughty, quippy reply, when my phone buzzes on the table and interrupts my train of thought.

Gabe: When you text someone before seven in the goddamn morning it’s common decency to start with something polite like - GOOD MORNING.

Gabe: Manners 101, ass.

Gabe: 970-555-3102.

Gabe: (His personal cell)

I glance up at Mollie. “Alright, I’ve got his number. What time is good for you?” I ask, this time careful of the words I choose.

“I’m not scheduled at the diner today. So whatever works for you.”

I blink in surprise. “You want me to come with you?”

“Is that okay? You don’t have to, if you’re busy or something.”

I slide my hand across the table to hers. “No. It’s fine. Hell, it’s great. Any excuse for time with you. I just figured you’d go with Sam.”

Uncertainty spreads across Mollie’s face. “No, I don’t think she’s gonna be all that keen on the idea. Too much history with Clint. And her dad for that matter, when he was around. For them, going to the police was tantamount to shooting a puppy—there’s almost never a good enough reason to justify it.”

I slide the last bite of pancake around the plate, sopping up as much syrup as I can. “I’ll put the call in after I get Chet his breakfast. Okay?”

Mollie nods. “I should probably get home soon. I left my phone in my car and if Sam’s awake, she’s sure to be worried. When I left last night, I told her I was going out to run an errand. If she wakes up and I’m not home…”

“I understand. I’ll walk you to your car.”

Mollie stands and picks up her tray. “Thanks, but you’ve got a breakfast order to fill.” She bobs her head back toward the kitchen. “I’ll keep my phone handy. Let me know what you hear from the sheriff, okay?”

I slide my chair away from the table. “Will do. And, same here. If you have any issues with Clint or whatever, you call me. Okay?”

Mollie smiles and nods.

I stand and take her tray from her hand, setting it back on the table. “I’ll clean this up in a minute. But first, come here, girl.” I take her hand in mine and pull her into me, squeezing her tight and wishing I didn’t have to say goodbye. “I lov—uh…um—ved those pancakes.” Holy shit, that was close.

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