He dipped his head in an ironic almost-bow. “My pleasure.” Pulling a handcuff key from one of his pockets, he freed Cord and gave him a strong nudge away from Molly and the house. “Off you go. You’re free. Fly, little goose. Fly!”

Cord gave one last mournful look at the disabled SUV and Sanders before hurrying away from them.

John smiled broadly, making Molly give a snort of amusement. “You’re such a weirdo.” She shoved Sanders away from her, grabbing the Taser from her waistband in the same motion so it was pointed at him before he even turned around. Giving him an insincere smile, she flapped her free hand in a shooing motion. “Better get moving. It’s a long way to the bus stop.”

“I need my phone back.” He eyed the Taser, as if trying to decide whether or not he could tackle her before she could deploy it.

John moved to her side, but she kept her attention focused on Sanders. He was angry and embarrassed, and she didn’t trust that he’d choose to follow the most reasonable path. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you broke into my house. Now, shoo.”

He started to argue, but John shifted forward. It was a slight move, but it was enough to make Sanders jump back. With a final glare that Molly assumed was supposed to promise retribution, Sanders grudgingly turned and strode off after Cord. Without taking her eyes off the retreating duo, Molly gave an audible sigh.

“Why don’t the bad guys ever quail in my presence like that?” she asked idly.

Even with her focus on Sanders and Cord, she knew he was eyeing her with amusement. “Maybe because I’m twice your height and weight?”

She waved a hand, dismissing that, and then remembered that she’d vowed to quit imitating Jane’s gesture. “You’re not twice my height.”

“Close enough.”

“No. Not close enough. You’re like six inches taller than me.” As Sanders rounded the corner and disappeared, she turned to face him. When she tilted her head back to look at his grinning face, she realized that estimate might’ve been low. “Fine. Ten inches, tops.”

“That’s what she said.”

It was almost impossible to hold back her laugh at that, but somehow she managed. Elbowing him in the side, she turned her face to hide her struggle to contain her amusement. As she did, she saw Mr. P’s lights come on, and her desire to laugh deserted her completely. Instead, she groaned.

“What?” John asked, following her gaze.

As if in answer, Mr. P’s front door swung open. Grabbing John’s arm, Molly hustled back toward her house, towing him behind her. He went willingly, not even laughing as her pace picked up until they were practically sprinting toward her front porch. Only when they were inside did she let out a relieved breath.

John, of course, was laughing at her. “Why did we just run away from your elderly neighbor?”

“He’s not really elderly. He just acts like it.” Molly knew that she was dodging the question, and the way that John’s eyebrows climbed higher on his forehead told her that he knew it, too. “Fine. I didn’t want to deal with Mr. P tonight. I’ll need more sleep before I can listen to his complaining and stay civil. A lot more sleep. And maybe some wine.”