“I won’t mention any names or specific details.” Lifting his hand, he traced an X over his heart like he was eight years old, and she was torn between laughing and melting. He could be such a big dork sometimes. “If you ask Jeremy, he’ll know right away that you’re talking about Jane, but my contacts won’t make the connection—not if I’m the one asking.”

Although she paused again to consider his words, she already knew what her answer was going to be. “Okay.” There was barely a hesitation before she spoke the next words. “Thank you.” It was getting dangerously easy to thank John. She felt another twinge of apprehension that she was relying on him too much. Once she allowed him into her world, it would be hard to eject him. When he smiled, though—a truly happy and wide grin—she couldn’t regret opening the door for him.

Now she could only hope that regret wouldn’t come later.

Chapter 8

A knock on the door interrupted Molly’s perusal of the Colorado criminal statutes. Completely caught up in the sentencing guidelines that may be Jane’s future, she jumped at the sound. Warrant, on the other hand, didn’t even lift his head off the floor where he was sprawled out over an air-conditioning vent. Instead, his tail thumped lazily a few times before he fell back asleep. The dog’s reaction made Molly fairly certain of who was at the door.

As she stood up, she swallowed a groan at the feel of her spine popping back into place. Glancing at the clock, she saw that she’d been hunched over her laptop for most of the afternoon. It was no wonder her body was protesting.

After peeking through the peephole in the front door, she unlocked it and swung it open. “This is becoming a habit.”

“What is?” John slipped past her, striding into the house as if he owned the place.

Making a face and pretending that she wasn’t glad to see him, she closed and relocked the door. “You showing up on our doorstep uninvited.”

“If you want me to leave, I can take this very valuable information and go.” His voice was muffled. As Molly entered the kitchen, she saw that he’d crouched down next to Warrant and was rubbing the delighted dog’s belly.

“No, it’s fine. I needed a break anyway.” Even though they were most likely going to be talking about Jane, John was still a good distraction from the mess her mom had made. “I take it you talked to your contact?”

“I did.” After a final pat, John straightened to his significant height. Having him here in her kitchen, taking up most of the space and a good portion of the oxygen—especially without her sisters there as a buffer—made Molly feel overheated. She couldn’t decide whether it was in a good way or a bad way. Shaking off her errant thoughts, she refocused on the important thing.

“What’d they say?” Her knees wobbled slightly from a mixture of exhaustion and anxiety, but she refused to sit down in the chair she’d abandoned when she’d answered the door. The only other seat in the room was too close to hers, and it was hard enough having this conversation without the prospect of John being pressed against her from knee to shoulder. She braced her palms on the table behind her and steeled herself for bad news.