“Just like that?” she asked dubiously.

“Hopefully, we’ll have time to fit some lunch in there, too.”

She blinked at him and then laughed, shaking her head slightly even as her chest warmed. “You’re nuts, but at least you’re optimistic.”

He gave her a crooked smile that said he accepted both those things as true before focusing on Dutch’s. She followed his gaze, and the sight of the bar sobered her. John’s car wasn’t the only one parked in the lot across the street, and there were two vehicles in the bar parking lot, but neither was a marked police car. In fact, the only sign that there’d been any incident the night before was a broken strand of yellow police tape hanging next to the entrance.

As John made a beeline for his car, Molly headed toward the back of the bar. Once he noticed she wasn’t following him, he changed course and jogged after her. In the daylight, the damaged portion of the building looked both worse and, at the same time, not as bad as it’d appeared the night before. Most of the back bathroom wall was missing, but the rest of the structure appeared sound—at least to her non-engineer eye.

On this side of the building, more of the police tape remained, but Molly ignored it as she picked her way through the scattered rubble that used to be a concrete-block wall.

“It felt worse than it looks,” John said, apparently reading her mind once again.

“Yeah. I think it was meant to be a distraction rather than to be destructive.” Crouching down, she examined the blackened base of the damaged wall. “Although the bar owner probably wouldn’t agree with me.”

“What wouldn’t I agree with?” a rough voice demanded, and Molly hurried to stand.

“That it could’ve been worse,” John said easily, although he shifted to put his body between her and the newcomer.

The woman scoffed, even as Molly straightened and stepped to the side, so that she could see the other person without John’s ridiculously enormous form in the way. When she finally got a good look, Molly recognized her as the bar owner, Yolanda.

“It’s bad enough.” She smoothed a flat hand over her reddish-blond hair. Her lips were drawn down tightly, emphasizing the wrinkles along her top lip and at the corners of her mouth. “Have to close down for a few days, which means that the two of you shouldn’t be here.”

“We were just picking up our car from the lot across the street and got curious,” Molly said, trying to borrow John’s look of wide-eyed innocence. “How’d this happen? Do you know?”

Yolanda’s eyes narrowed. “That black car’s yours?”

“Yes.” Molly kept her gaze from sliding over to meet John’s.

“You’re the bounty hunters, then?” From the way the woman practically vibrated with growing fury, Molly knew that keeping her mouth shut was the safest option. Even without confirmation, Yolanda waved an angry hand toward the hole in the bathroom wall. “This is your fault!”