rush to check in. I’d love to stay for dinner.” Hunter spoke to her grandmother without meeting Molly’s annoyed stare. “Getting to know the family will help in forming a defense strategy. Thanks for the invitation, Commander.”
“My pleasure. I hope you like pot roast because that’s what I’m serving.”
“It’s my favorite.”
Molly felt sure he was doing this on purpose, making her sweat and squirm as retribution for the pain she’d caused him. Dinner with the family wouldn’t help her father’s case. Proving him innocent by finding other suspects would. She and Hunter would have to have a long talk on the subject as soon as possible.
“Oh, and as for that motel you mentioned?” Edna’s voice brought Molly out of her private thoughts. “That won’t be necessary. We have a perfectly good pullout bed for you right here.”
Molly tried and failed to catch her grandmother’s gaze. Like Hunter, she was avoiding looking at Molly. In the commander’s case, that meant she had an ulterior motive in inviting Hunter to stay. She wouldn’t have thought matchmaking was on her grandmother’s agenda, but today was full of surprises.
She intended to put a stop to the other woman’s meddling now. “Hunter needs space to spread out and work, and besides, we don’t know how long he’ll need to be in town. It could be weeks or months depending on how long this farce goes on. I’m sure he’d be more comfortable in a motel.”
“Nonsense.” The commander slammed her cane against the floor for emphasis. “That’s exactly why he should stay here. The pullout couch is in your father’s office. Hunter would have a built-in place for him to work without having to travel.”
“The motel’s five minutes away,” Molly said through gritted teeth.
As much as she hated to admit weakness, she caught Hunter’s eye and silently pleaded with him to go along. They weren’t on friendly terms and having him here would be too much stress on her already frayed emotions. He couldn’t possibly want to stay here, either.
Hunter cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t want to displace the general from his office.”
“He’s still in jail,” the commander said. “Can you believe that? His asshole-I mean, his lawyer hasn’t been able to get him out.”
Hunter winced. Obviously he hadn’t realized how dire the circumstances really were, Molly thought. Well, now he knew. Now he’d want to go right over to the motel and get to work on strategy.
“We’ll rectify that first thing in the morning,” he promised her grandmother. “Since I’ll probably have a lot of questions that need answers if I’m going to get him a hearing, maybe it is best if I stay here.”
“Excellent,” the commander said. “Isn’t it excellent, Molly?”
“Just swell,” she bit out. Molly was surprised her grandmother didn’t break into applause.
CHAPTER FOUR
CONSIDERING HUNTER WASN’T in his own home and had spent the night on a pullout under the same roof as Molly, he had to admit he’d slept pretty well. His first order of business today would be to get his new client out of jail. He’d had no idea Molly’s father was still behind bars, but he knew that was unacceptable. He’d risen early and made a list of questions to discuss with the general when they met, and he’d left a message with his office to call the public defender who’d been assigned to the case to have copies of all paperwork faxed or sent over as soon as possible. His first stop this morning would be the county jail.
Noise that sounded like ruffling feathers caught his attention and he walked over to the covered birdcage. Edna had instructed him not to disturb the bird during the night because macaws needed twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. But since the sun was up and Hunter was curious about his roommate, he lifted the cage cover and the bird popped one eye open. It still didn’t talk.
“Keep this up and we’ll get along just fine,” Hunter told the macaw.
Without warning, the bird flapped his blue feathers, startling Hunter with the noise and the size of its wingspan. “Rock and roll,” he said.
“Not a bad first line.” Hunter laughed and then pulled his cell from his pocket. He hadn’t told Ty his plans and it was time he faced his friend’s reaction.
He dialed Ty’s number and he answered on the first ring.
Hunter spoke quickly. “I’m in Connecticut. I’m taking the case and do not say I told you so.”
The other man’s low chuckle rumbled through the phone line. “Okay, I won’t. How’s Molly holding up?” Ty asked.
Hunter closed his eyes. “She’s Molly.”
“And you’re still hooked.”
“I’m working on getting over it,” Hunter muttered.
“Can I ask what made you change your mind?”
Hunter paced the study where he’d slept. The sun shone through the pleated shade, bathing the room in warm light. “On top of the things you and Lacey said the other night? Lacey was right. I owe Molly.” The words tasted sour in his mouth.
“Whoa. I didn’t see that one coming.”
“Well, I hate saying I’m wrong and it wasn’t easy for me to admit Lacey had a point.” Especially since for the last year Hunter had felt like the wounded party. But there was more to the situation than he chose to selectively remember. “The whole time Molly claimed Dumont was innocent of trying to kill Lacey, I refused to consider her side. I didn’t trust her judgment. I sided with you and Lacey against her.”
“So by taking her father’s case, you think you can make it up to her?”
“In part. And helping her now will make it easier on me when I walk away. And I will walk away when this is over.”
Ty burst out laughing. “Man, you are one screwed-up puppy. One minute you’re blaming her for dumping you, and the next you’re blaming yourself for not siding with her. You think that’s why she turned you down last year?”
“I don’t care about why, only that she did. I want things between us to end clean this time.” So when he returned to his life, he’d stop abusing himself and be able to move on.
“Good luck, man. Something tells me you’re going to need it.” Ty hung up quickly before Hunter could have the last word.
“Typical.” Hunter shook his head. But he sure as hell needed all the luck he could get, because he’d had another realization in the last few days.
Hunter was finished letting any woman turn his life to shit. Unfortunately he’d also discovered that he wasn’t over Molly, the woman he’d allowed to mess with his head.
This past year had been a regression he wasn’t proud of. As a kid he’d been defensive and self-protective, in need of guidance and getting none. After a series of sometimes dangerous, oftentimes neglectful, foster-care homes, at sixteen he’d landed at Ty’s mother’s house where his life had changed for the better. Ty and Lacey had befriended him, teaching him so much about self-respect during their short year as a family.
Then Lacey’s uncle, Marc Dumont, had unexpectedly decided he wanted her to come home-to his abuse. The three friends had faked Lacey’s death, sending her to New York to avoid returning to the nightmare her life had been. Her “death” had denied Lacey’s uncle the chance to claim her trust fund and he’d been furious. Dumont couldn’t prove Ty and Hunter had had anything to do with his niece’s “death” but he’d set out to punish them anyway.
A few pulled strings and an angry Hunter had been placed in a juvenile facility where he’d caused enough trouble to get himself put in a scared-straight program. He’d walked into the jail a cocky, brash kid, but the minute he’d heard the doors clang shut behind him, he’d nearly pissed his pants. Thank God he hadn’t been stupid. He’d listened to every word the convicts had said and taken them to heart. He’d decided right then, no way was he about to end up like the men telling their life stories.
He’d focused on their words and the dual voices in his head. Lacey and Ty, the two people who’d believed in him. He’d looked at what he had become. He’d visualized their disappointment in his mind and he’d heard Lacey’s concerned voice in his head. Somehow they’d been with him as he’d pushed himself through the program, as he’d
