“What is?”

“John Carmondy love.”

“Staaahhp.” Molly covered her eyes with her hands. “My poor brain can’t take any more. Can we talk about something else? Anything else? Like…if fairies exist, or whether fudgy brownies or cake brownies taste better, or the best ways to destroy the patriarchy, or something besides John Carmondy and his stupidly adorable dimples? Please?”

“Sure.” Several seconds of silence passed before Norah spoke again. “I like blond brownies.”

Molly smiled as her eyes closed. “Me too.”

“And education is the basis of all societal change.”

“Mmm-hmm…” Her sleepless nights were catching up with her. Her eyes refused to open. “I’m taking it that we’re not discussing fairies, then?”

“Gross.”

“What’s gross?” Molly blinked at her sister sleepily. “Fairies?”

“They creep me out. If they do exist, I don’t want to know about it. I’d never sleep again.”

Molly’s eyes drifted closed again, even as she snorted. “You’re so weird.”

“Right back at you.”

* * *

A jab to the ribs woke Molly. She sat up, confused by the location and the daylight that filled the room, her mind still half-asleep but her body on full alert. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Get up and grab John so I only have to go through this once,” Norah said, closing her laptop with a click.

Everything about Sonny Zarver and Jane settled back into Molly’s brain, and she got to her feet, yawning and wishing she could have another hour—or day—to sleep. A glance at her cell phone showed that she’d been napping for almost two hours. That’d have to be enough for now. “I’m up. Did you find the address for the meet-up tonight?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Molly repeated. “Likely maybe or doubtful maybe?”

Instead of answering, Norah fixed her with a stern look. It would’ve been scarier if she hadn’t been wearing a shirt with You are dumb written in binary code. “Get John first. Then I’ll tell you everything.”

“Fine,” Molly agreed through another yawn as she headed for the door. When she couldn’t hear any other voices, she wondered if Desmond had finished and John had taken off. She couldn’t blame him, since he’d been neck-deep in her crazy, dangerous family drama ever since Jane had contacted him. He had to be behind on his own life stuff.

Pushing away the wave of irrational and unwanted disappointment, she tromped down the stairs, heading for the kitchen to get some water.

“Good nap?”

She hid her startle at the unexpected question, turning toward where John sat at the dining room table, Warrant’s snoozing head on his foot. “Short,” she answered belatedly, taking in the sight in front of her. She had to admit that having John around made the house feel even safer and cozier than it normally did, which was impressive considering the excessive number of people who’d been breaking in recently. Her gaze fell to where Warrant was sprawled under the table. “How’d you manage to win the dog over so fast?” Without pausing, she guessed, “It was bacon, wasn’t it?”