“Yeah.” Norah stretched her arms toward the ceiling, making her oversize sleep shirt bunch up around her shoulders. “Where’s John? Did you ditch him already?”

“No. Not that it hasn’t been tempting.” The last part felt like a lie, and Molly hurried to change the subject before she did something ridiculous—like blush or explain that she’d been tempted by John, just not to escape him. “Is Cara in her room?”

“I think so.” A small line appeared between Norah’s eyebrows. “She said she had to run a few errands, but that was…” She glanced at the screen, as if checking the time. “An hour ago? Maybe? Sorry, I was caught up in this.” As she gestured toward her laptop, worry tightened her features, and Molly hid her irrational concern for Cara being out alone under a reassuring smile.

“I’ll check in with her before I leave. There was a car I didn’t recognized parked outside, but they drove off as soon as I headed toward them. Did you hear anything?”

Norah’s eyes widened. “No, nothing. Who do you think it was?”

Attempting to look unconcerned, Molly waved a deliberately careless hand. She wanted Norah to be watchful but not terrified, and that was a tough balance to achieve. “Probably just a lost tourist. Keep an eye out, though, just in case.” Norah was beginning to look hunted, so Molly deliberately switched topics. “Any leads on where Mom might’ve gone?”

“I might’ve found her car at a dealership in Colorado Springs.” The anxiety in Norah’s expression eased as she spoke. “The VIN is off by a couple of numbers, but that could’ve just been because someone got sloppy entering it.”

“Or the dealer suspected it might be stolen, so they’re hoping to sell it before anyone tracks it down and they’re left without their money or a car,” Molly said.

Norah raised a shoulder in a shrug that Molly knew meant she agreed. “Felicity and Charlie are going to check it out tomorrow morning.”

“Good job, researching genius.” Moving into the room, Molly extended her fist. Norah bumped it while giving her a rare smile. “Any sign of my car?”

“Maybe.” She fiddled with her laptop. “Nothing concrete enough to share yet.”

“Okay.” Shoving down her disappointment and antsy need to push for more answers, Molly moved to the doorway. If pressured, Norah would shut down, which wouldn’t help anyone, but it was hard to be patient. “Text me if you need anything. Nice work so far. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I will, thanks, and I won’t.” The words sounded distracted, as if Norah was already back in her research fog.

Molly backed out of the room, pulling the door mostly closed behind her, and ran into a solid form. Whirling around, she shoved away from the person she’d just run into, her fists automatically raising into a defensive position in front of her face. In that second, she recognized the man standing in her upstairs hallway, and her alarm faded—even as her annoyance increased.