“I don’t suppose you caught a plate number?” Even as she asked, Molly knew the answer would be no. There was no way that John had caught a glimpse of the license plate. With the glare of the headlights, all she’d been able to tell was that it’d been a four-door sedan.

“No.” His voice came from right behind her, surprising her. She’d figured he’d stayed on the porch, but he must’ve followed during her impulsive attempt to confront the mystery car’s driver.

Since the taillights had disappeared into the night, she turned and started back toward the house. John fell in beside her. “Any idea who that was? You didn’t happen to get a peek at the driver, did you?” she asked.

“No to both.” John’s voice was tight with worry. “All I caught was that the car was a late-model Dodge Charger, dark blue or possibly green.”

“Oh well.” Molly brushed off her disappointment and a lingering feeling of menace as she returned to the front door and opened it, waving John through into the house. “They weren’t actually doing anything wrong, except being somewhat creepy.” She had a hunch the cops—especially her two new Denver detective buddies—would’ve frowned on her doing a citizen’s arrest for loitering. Still, with everything that had been happening, she knew better than to dismiss the incident completely. Besides, listening to her gut had kept her alive in a dangerous job over the past few years. If her instincts were telling her that something was off about that mystery car, she was going to listen.

Warrant greeted them, the lazy wag of his tail speeding up when he recognized John, who gave the dog’s ruff a vigorous scratching. When John looked up and caught Molly’s exasperated expression, he asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” she grumbled, not wanting to admit that she was a little miffed that her dog was more excited to see Carmondy than he was to see her, the person who fed him. She really didn’t want to admit that watching John loving on her dog was annoyingly endearing. Giving herself a mental shake, she started to automatically tell John to make himself at home, but then she caught herself and stuffed the words back down. He didn’t need any encouragement to wedge himself even further into her life. Instead, as she headed for the stairs, she simply said, “I’ll be right back.”

On her way to go change, she saw the door to Norah’s tiny bedroom was ajar and stuck her head in to see her sister in her usual position: sitting cross-legged on the bed, hunched over her laptop. Since Norah was obviously caught up in whatever was on her screen, Molly tapped her knuckles lightly against the doorjamb. Her efforts not to startle Norah weren’t successful, since she jumped about a foot at the quiet knock.

“Molly! I didn’t hear you come in.” She straightened her laptop, which had toppled sideways when she’d startled. “You’re back early. No luck?”

“Costume change and weapon collection,” Molly explained. “Then we’ll be heading back out again. All’s quiet here?” Even as she kept her voice light, she thought about the car sitting within view of their house. Sometimes, she wished that Norah didn’t get so caught up in her research. When she was really interested in what she was reading, the rest of the world disappeared.