dragging the floor, she stared at him.
One look at her face and Dare was out of the chair. “What is it?”
She took a shuddering breath. “A … note.” She gestured behind her with a shaking hand. “Left for me by the phone table.”
Grim, Dare put an arm around her. “Show me.”
She walked to a small, overturned table against the wall that separated her kitchen and living room. “This is where I keep my landline, where my cell phone charges and where I put my mail, my change and … everything.”
A dozen letters, several packages and boxes were dumped around the floor. “You’ve got a load of stuff there.”
“I was gone for a while, remember?”
“So, who brought the mail in?”
Her hand to her forehead, expression bleak, she pointed a stiff finger at a lone pad of paper resting atop the answering machine. “Whoever left that, I guess.”
Dare stepped over the broken landline phone to the answering machine that lay on the floor. It was unplugged, possibly broken, too, but he’d check on that in a minute.
Molly stuck close to him. “I use the landline for business calls, like with my editor and agent, or phone interviews, that sort of thing. Family almost always calls the cell. Whoever left that note knew I’d try to check my business messages, right? That’s why he specifically left it there. He didn’t want it to get lost in the rest of this mess.”
“Probably.” Written in large block letters with bold red marker was a message that Dare read aloud: “Still feel so forgiving?”
He realized that Molly shook with anger, not fear. She’d curled her hands tight, clenched her jaw and her dark eyes were burning bright.
“I take it you have an idea what that means?”
“Got a good guess, yeah.”
She looked ready to combust, so Dare said, “Let’s see if the answering machine still works, okay?”
Nodding, Molly went to her knees and reconnected the cord to the machine and then plugged it into the wall. There were some calls from her sister, inquiring after her. Her agent, her editor, left urgent calls requesting her attention. The local bookstore sounded pleasant but confused about her absence.
Then another call from Natalie. She said that she’d gotten the email, but she wanted specifics. “Why won’t you call me, damn it? I don’t get it. This is nuts. If you’re off having fun, that’s fine. I’m thrilled for you. But you can take one minute to talk, so … call me.”
Smothering in guilt, Molly groaned. “Natalie must be frantic.”
“Yeah, but what was that about an email?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on.” Dare tugged her to her feet and together they went back to her computer. He checked the history and found her online email program had been accessed. “Mind if I take a look?”
“It’s not like I have a lot to hide at this point.” She gestured at the computer. “Have at it.”
Dare pulled up the email program and looked for received emails, but saw none. Then he looked at the sent emails, and again, nothing.
Molly frowned. “Check the trash.”
“I am.” He opened the folder for discarded mail. “Bingo.” There were three messages from her sister, one of them saying she was heading off for spring break and wanted to talk to Molly first.
“Spring break?” Dare asked.
“She’s a teacher.” Molly leaned over his shoulder and frowned at the monitor. “There’s an email from me, but I wasn’t here to send it.”
Dare opened the deleted post and together they read the succinct message. “I’ll be gone for a while. Off having some fun for a change. I’ll get in touch when I can. Love, Molly.”
Very slowly, she straightened. “It was only sent to Natalie, and it doesn’t sound at all like me.”
“Which is why your sister was worried.”
She let out a breath. “Whoever sent that knew that Natalie was the only person who would notice my absence. I mean, my agent and editor, too, but they wouldn’t panic if my family didn’t, and Natalie’s the only family who would.”
“So it’s someone who knows you.” Dare had figured that much all along. He stood and pulled her into his arms. Holding her felt right—and despite the circumstances, it stirred him, because he knew tonight was the night.
Before he did something stupid, he set her away from him. “I told you this wouldn’t be easy.”
She nodded. “I need to talk to Natalie.”
Molly’s cell phone had been in her purse, which was now missing, and her landline looked as if someone had stepped on it.
Dare pulled his cell out of his pocket. “Go ahead and call her.” Talking to her sister would give her something to think about besides the mess and the note.
“What should I say?”
He shrugged. “Tell her something came up but that you can’t go into it over the phone. Ask her to come over.” Meeting her sister in person would let him control things and afford him the opportunity to gauge her reaction to Molly’s tale. Not that he had any real reason to suspect her sister; she was the only one who’d noted Molly’s absence, as far as he could tell. But it was too soon for him to rule out anyone or anything.
Molly put in the call, but after a few seconds she covered the phone. “No answer.”
“Don’t leave a message. That’ll just confuse things.” Dare took the phone from her and closed it. “You can call her again later.”
Regret had Molly biting her lips, but she accepted his decision. “If she’s still on spring break, she could be away from her phone.”
Keeping his hands off her wasn’t an option. It seemed the more he touched her, the more he needed to. He craved the feel of her skin, the scent of her hair, her warmth and gentleness. It drew him like nothing ever had.
Trying to keep it casual with an arm around her waist, Dare led her from the bedroom. But even that affected him. He could feel her resilient flesh beneath the material of her top, the narrowness of her waist and how she fit so nicely into his side.
“What do we do now?” Molly asked.
“I want to hear about that note, but you’re pushing it today. The long trip was enough, but then to find this mess … You need to eat something, drink—”
“Dare, I’m okay,” she complained with a short laugh. “And I’m not hungry.”
He stopped with her in the kitchen. Smoothing back her hair, he studied her face. She looked pale, stressed and beautiful.
