Saints & Suspects

by Jordan McCollum

  A kiss she’d thought they’d never share, from a man she loved but believed she’d never have. A kiss that was still the single most electrifying moment of her life. A kiss that the very memory still made the back of her neck tingle.

  A kiss that, if she were truly honest, she’d trade almost anything to have again.

  Molly drew in a breath. Could he know — no. Zachary was no mind reader.

  She finally remembered to chew the bite of cake. Chocolate and hazelnut.

  If he knew her that well, maybe he already knew what she’d been thinking.

  She turned away. As soon as she could, she thanked the shop assistant and led them off to Grace’s next stop.

  As interminable as the wedding planning parade felt, the night still held something far more difficult for her.

  With the Canavans a couple feet ahead of them after bidding goodbye, Zach held Molly’s hand the whole way back to the garage. He tried not to dwell on the point of contact.

  Instead, he kept replaying the sweet, torturous seconds of feeding Molly her cake.

  Zach should’ve made her close her eyes, instead of locking onto them as she took a bite.

  That look had nothing to do with cake.

  They bid the Canavans goodbye and headed into the parking garage. Normally, that would signal the end of the op, and they both could relax and be themselves again.

  But tonight the tangible tension lingered after the Canavans’ departure — just like Molly’s hand lingered in his. Zach realized the rushing sound in his ears was his pulse.

  And Molly had to talk to him about something.

  Maybe it was good, and she just thought it was bad. If she was still in love with him, and she’d changed her mind about marriage, maybe she was afraid he didn’t return her feelings. Or maybe she’d tell him what made her think he wasn’t worth marrying.

  Whatever it was, he’d change.

  Had he always been this desperate? But even as he asked himself, Zach knew the answer: only when it came to Molly. What wouldn’t he give for a second chance?

  It had to be something good with the way she’d looked at him in the bakery.

  Didn’t it? A wave of ice swept through him.

  “Can I give you a ride back to your car?” he asked, hardly a tremor in his voice.

  Molly stopped and lifted her eyes to meet his. “Can I ask you somethin’, Zachary?”

  When did she start calling him that again? “Sure.”

  “When we were datin’, did you ever think —” Molly lowered her eyes, plunging him into sheer panic a second until she met his gaze again. “Did I tell you I used to smoke?”

  Not what he expected. Zach recovered fast enough to nod. “Kathleen helped you quit.”

  She focused on his feet. “Did you wish I’d grown up Mormon? That is, did you ever think differently of me?”

  What brought that on? “No. Your experiences made you who you are.”

  She still stared at the ground.

  Zach tilted her chin up toward him. “Molly, I loved you. Nothing else mattered.”

  “Nothin’,” she repeated in a whisper. Those beautiful blue eyes searched his, every bit as intense as when he fed her that cake — or when he’d kissed her for the first time. Then her gaze flicked to his lips and back.

  He traced his fingertips along her jaw, waiting for her silent consent.

  Her lips parted and she moved a fraction of an inch closer. This was happening. He cradled the back of her neck and leaned down.

  Was it possible? He was really going to kiss Molly again. All the blunted feelings he’d buried fired to life, heat pouring through his veins. She was his again.

  Just as Zach closed his eyes, her hand hit his chest. Stopping him. His eyes snapped open — she’d turned away. Her face was stone.

  Zach pulled back. “What is it?”

  “I’m seein’ someone.”

  A visceral pain ripped through his body, made it impossible to breathe. He swallowed against a dry mouth. “Oh.”

  “That’s what I was wantin’ to tell you today.”

  Zach nodded, reeling a minute. He took a step back and shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Sorry about . . . this.” He took another step back. “Guess I always let my covers go to my head when it comes to you.”

  Molly finally met his gaze again, and her eyes held hurt.

  What had he ever done to her? She already had someone else; what did it matter to her if she was stomping on his heart all over again?

  “That’s what this was?” she asked. “Your cover goin’ to your head?”

  Zach shrugged. “I just — after the bakery, I was —”

  Molly reached for him, but abruptly retreated into a fist. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Zachary.”

  Yeah, that’d worked. He gave a small laugh.

  Her gaze fell. “I’ll take the ‘L’ back to my car.”

  He had to veto that. “No, we’re adults. That’s okay.”

  She backed up three steps. “I’ll be grand.”

  “Molly —” He caught her hand, but she jerked away.

  “You can’t go doin’ that to me.” She studied his face like it hurt to look at him. “Apparently we should’ve had this conversation sooner.”

  “What conversation?” He couldn’t keep the dread out of his voice.

  “Boundaries.” Molly outlined a box around herself. She lowered her voice. “Let’s face it: our lives are headed the same directions they were last summer.”

  He closed his eyes to hide the pain. Yes, he’d broken up with her because their lives were headed in different directions.

  And that hadn’t changed.

  “I can take care of myself.” She strode off before he could stop her, and when he followed she shot him a look sharp enough to sever a limb.

  “I’m. Fine.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “Later, then.” Hopefully much later. He definitely couldn’t face her for a few days.

  In his last glimpse of Molly before she pivoted away, Zach could’ve sworn he saw something glint on her cheek. A tear? Nice gesture. Because this was all so easy on him.

  After all this — two weeks of working together, of planning a wedding, of realizing how much he still cared — Molly was seeing someone. And Zach was still stuck on the case with her.

  He needed this: a good, hard smack of reality. Nothing. Had. Changed. She probably still had a lot to do before marriage — things that were way more important than he was. So important she didn’t even know what they were.

  Of all the times he’d snuck into Lucy’s apartment, did he have to overhear that conversation?

  No, that conversation had saved him from a lot of pain. Until today.

  Duh, she didn’t want to get married. Duh, she didn’t want to date him. That was how it worked when you dumped someone.

  Despite the heat lamps at the ‘L’ station, and the heater on the train, Molly was still thoroughly chilled by the time she sank into her driver’s seat at the FBI parking lot. She stared out the windscreen at the concrete wall of the parking garage.

  Not. Fair. It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to her.

  Zachary’s face — she’d tried not to check, but she couldn’t help it — his pain was so clear that she almost took it back. She almost lied to him just to make it better.

  Had he always cared that much? If there was some chance it wasn’t too late, did she dare try? To risk getting hurt that badly again?

  No. She was right to establish boundaries. They had to be professional if they were working together. If she wanted to get over these stupid feelings.

  Molly let her head fall back against the headrest. How could she have let Zachary walk away tonight? She should ring him, stop him —

  No. She was dating Nate, and she’d already come too close to crossing a line. The cover relationship was one thing, but the Canavans weren’t the reason she’d been centimeters away from kissing Zachary again. Exactly why they needed bounda
ries.

  That wasn’t fair to Nate — and that was her fault, too.

  Molly started her car, but after a few seconds, she switched it off. She wasn’t ready to drive home. Going home would mean the night was over, that she’d go back to her real life. To Nate. At least Nearly Perfect, Skin Deep Nate was real — more real than Jason Tolliver.

  She wasn’t in love with Jason Tolliver. And she wasn’t in love with Nate O’Shaughnessy.

  “Feelings”? For a week now, she’d let herself belief she only had “feelings” for Zachary.

  She loved him. Still.

  Now she’d told Zachary the truth about Nate. And she’d have to do the same for Nate. Molly pulled her mobile from her handbag. Nate was might still be free tonight.

  A text message was waiting. From Nate. Work emergency in Toronto. Be back late tomorrow night. Good thing you made me finish my talk early!

  She could have the decency to wait to do this in person. Unlike Zachary. Molly tossed the mobile back into her handbag and started her car. She’d have to wait, so.

  And prolong this for them all.

  Molly marched into the Irish American Heritage Center’s dance studio for the second time that Saturday. With Scoil Síofra’s other teachers prepping the dance companies for the St. Patrick’s Day parade, only Molly was left to teach the afternoon Irish dance aerobics session. Exactly what she needed to work out last night’s lingering stress.

  She monitored the adults filing in, some of them familiar from the last time she’d substituted here. And then came a face she knew well: Lucy.

  Molly wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried to see Zachary’s sister. Lucy smiled and waved — apparently she hadn’t spoken to her brother yet. As if he’d ever tell her about that. He’d always been good about not letting their relationship affect his sister, and vice versa.

  Molly tied her ghillies and picked out a CD for the warm up. Aerobics was the one Saturday class her parents didn’t play for, so she always came prepared.

  Just as she walked to the front to start the class, one last participant wandered in. In Molly’s peripheral vision, she glimpsed a woman who was short, heavyset and redheaded.

  She turned and tried not to jump — Grace Canavan.

  Hadn’t she had enough of wedding planning for one weekend? But there was a bigger worry — Grace hadn’t come looking for Molly and found her parents here, had she?

  No, she would’ve heard about that. Better warn her parents.

  Better warn everyone. Who knew her last name here? Molly scanned the class. The other ladies only called her Molly. Just Lucy knew her as Malone.

  Yet another reason to keep them apart.

  “Don’t mind me,” Grace called loudly, waving for Molly to continue. “Only watchin’.” She took a position at the edge of the group.

  “Oh, if you’re watchin’, you certainly don’t want to stand the whole time.” Molly escorted her to the far corner bench and moved her dance bag to make room for Grace. “I have to warn you, though, it won’t be very entertainin’. This class is more about gettin’ exercise than perfect form.”

  “Ah.” Grace waved a hand. “I just needed to make sure you’re all right after last night. You seemed . . . sad.”

  Molly mentally kicked herself. She hadn’t meant to sulk yesterday, and now she’d drawn Grace’s attention. “I’m grand, you know yourself.”

  “Good to hear. I was just worried there might be a problem with you and Jason?” The up-turn in Grace’s voice made it sound almost like hope.

  She forced herself not to look in Lucy’s direction to see if she was listening. “Oh no, no problem at all.”

  “Grand — oh, dearie, where’s your ring?”

  Molly’s heart jumped nearly out of her ribs. She clenched her fist, but it was too late to hide. She’d worked so hard to remember to put it on and take it off, and now she’d be caught not wearing it on purpose.

  Her mind danced faster than a double reel. “Can’t wear jewelry when I’m teachin’. Wouldn’t want to hurt anyone.” And the stones on that hideous thing could do definite damage.

  They already were.

  Molly derailed that train of thought, hurrying to the mirror at the front again. She tried to slide into the aerobics instructor persona she’d developed. Grace, for her part, sat quietly in the corner.

  The corner closest to Lucy.

  And this day had almost been going well.

  Molly clapped for attention. She had to find a way to move Lucy somewhere else in the room. “All right, folks, we’re tryin’ somethin’ new today for our warm up.” Her instructor’s enthusiasm sounded awfully contrived. “We’ll practice each of our standard steps around the room in a circle.” She grabbed the remote next to the stereo and started a slower song, then led the warm up by jogging around the room.

  After practicing skip-two-threes, side sevens and anything else Molly could think of to get their heart rates up — though she didn’t need any help with that — she stopped the circle with Lucy at the front of the room to start class.

  Halfway through the first step of an easy reel, Lucy started edging toward the back of the room. Toward Grace.

  Molly quickly revised her plan for class. “Let’s practice what we’ve got so far. This is a two-hand reel,” she lied, “so partner up.” She beckoned to Lucy.

  Lucy’s eyes widened, and she backed away a step. Honestly, it wasn’t a perfect plan — she was so much taller than Lucy they’d appear rather ridiculous — but Molly wanted Lucy far from Grace as possible.

  She waved for Lucy to come up again, and this time she obeyed. Molly demonstrated holding a partner’s hand, with an extra lesson on what to do if your partner was a different height. She scanned the class. One girl in the middle row, Andrea, had no partner. Molly sent Lucy to dance with her. On the opposite side of the room from Grace.

  Molly managed to focus the rest of the class and almost had fun, though it wasn’t the stress relief she needed. After class, she bid her students goodbye and ushered them out. Once the class dispersed in the car park, Molly gathered her things. She turned to leave herself, only to find two people waiting for her at the Heritage Center doors: Grace Canavan and Lucy.

  The two of them together. Exactly what she’d spent the last hour trying to avoid.

  Lucy, standing closer, approached first. “Molly, about what I said on Thursday.”

  “It’s all right,” Molly tried to cut her off, though she didn’t know what she meant.

  “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you to tell Zach. I’m sure you’ll tell him whenever you need to — if you actually need to.”

  Molly’s mind couldn’t juggle her personal life and that of her cover at the same time. Had Grace heard Zachary’s real name, and would she suspect?

  Grace moved forward. “Who’s this, so?”

  The muscles in Molly’s shoulders tightened. “Grace, this is my friend.” No name. She introduced Lucy. “This is Grace Canavan. An old family friend.” She silently prayed that would suffice as an introduction.

  Of course it didn’t. “I’m helpin’ Molly plan her weddin’,” Grace said with a smug little tilt to her head.

  Oh no. Molly did her best not to let any reaction show.

  Lucy, however, startled. “What?”

  “Haven’t I told you?” Molly forced a bright note into her tone. “I’m so sorry! It’s been a bit . . . sudden.”

  Lucy slowly nodded. Had she picked up on the subtext? “Okay, call me later.”

  Grace turned to look at Lucy go. “Aren’t you close?” Grace murmured.

  “Not really.” Would that be enough to satisfy Grace? “She’s breakin’ up with her boyfriend, and she doesn’t like Jason, so I hadn’t told her yet.”

  “She doesn’t like Jason. . . .” Grace frowned after Lucy. “Can’t have a friend like that, can we?” Grace watched Lucy get into her gold sedan. Molly drew a quick breath. She’d spared telling Grace her name, but letting Grace —
the noted bomber — see Lucy’s car? A fat lot of good Molly’s caution during class had been.

  “This was lovely. Thank you.” Grace started toward her car.

  Molly had to give Lucy time to get away. “Isn’t there somethin’ you needed to talk about?” There was always wedding minutiae.

  “No, dearie, I only wanted to see you dance. Fierce lovely!” She didn’t even pause, tossing the words over her shoulder as she walked.

  Molly hurried to keep up. “But Grace, can’t we talk about my dress?”

  “I have a shop in mind.” She paused at her car door. “I’ll make an appointment. Next weekend?”

  Lucy was still sitting there. Why hadn’t she pulled out yet? “Next weekend,” Molly told Grace. “But the afternoon’s better on Saturday. I won’t be teachin’ next week.”

  “Saturday afternoon it is. Shall I come collect you?”

  “That’d be grand.”

  Lucy’s reverse lights finally glowed, and Molly exhaled. But Grace took that split second to slip into her car. She cracked her window. “Bye, dearie!” she shouted to Molly as she started the car.

  What could Molly do? Stand in Grace’s way until Lucy was out of sight? Worth a chance. She lingered behind the old Mercedes until Lucy left her parking spot — and Grace tooted her horn at Molly.

  She stepped aside, waving to Grace. Molly didn’t dare to breathe, watching them go. Grace pulled up behind Lucy in the queue to leave the car park. Lucy turned.

  And Grace pursued her.

  Molly’s stomach took a bounce. She fetched her mobile from her bag and hopped in her car. As Molly left the lot after them, Lucy’s number rang and rang — voicemail. She could barely see Grace, now a block ahead of her. Molly tried to ring Lucy twice more with the same result.

  She had no other choice. She rang Zachary.

  When he saw who was calling, Zach almost didn’t answer. Molly couldn’t have anything to say to change last night. Or reality. Not that sitting around his place and watching old spy movies on PBS were helping him forget either.