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“Fucking cheapskate.” Feigning disgust, Sam shook his head. “Have a good trip back. I suggest waiting for the storm to pass.”
The agent nodded, since he knew better than to doubt Sam’s piloting knowledge. He’d be catching a ride with a different pilot, since they’d been careful not to cross paths in public at all.
“What are you doing out here?” Molly’s vibrant voice made him jump. “The bathroom’s that-a-way.”
Apparently that Guinness, on top of the rocky flight and the shock of whatever was going on with “Bessie,” had caught up with his redheaded passenger. Her “s”s were more like “th’s” and her smile was extra bright.
“Just telling this fine fellow that he should wait for the storm to pass before he tries to reach civilization.”
Agent Useless grinned at Molly and turned his cigarette butt-end toward her. “Want a smoke?”
“Uh, no thanks.” She waved the smoke away from her face. “I grew up in a house of chain-smokers. I’ve considered getting a preventative lung transplant after so much secondhand smoke.”
Sam let out a bark of laughter. Something about Molly—her blunt sense of humor, her obliviousness to other people’s opinions, her gutsiness, and yes, her redheaded sexiness—really did something to him.
Inconvenient, perhaps. But indisputable.
“Well, this looks like a fun convo, but I’m going home. I mean, back. To the place with the Wi-Fi. Home is where the Wi-Fi is, am I right? Good night.”
“Wait. I’ll walk you back.” Sam nodded at Agent Useless and steered Molly back inside.
“No thanks,” she insisted as they made their way through the bar. “I know the way. There’s only one road, I can’t possibly miss it.”
“Don’t you want to wait for your friend?”
“Lila? She won’t get off until two in the…oh, you mean Bessie.”
He grinned down at her. “If you ever think of becoming a secret agent, you should avoid alcohol at all costs.”
“Oh yeah? Well, you should maybe try to hold your secret agent meetings somewhere away from a bathroom with a window that doesn’t seal completely.”
She flashed him a glance of pure fire, then twitched her perfectly tailored wool coat away from his hand and headed for the door.
Point to Molly Evans. He’d better make sure not to underestimate her ever again. She was both more and less than she seemed. More unexpected and less spoiled. He had to find out more about her. Luckily, he had a satellite dish at his place and could do some online searching when he got home.
But now he had another worry to deal with. How much had she heard? He and Agent Useless hadn’t said anything especially confidential, but probably enough to provoke any normal person’s curiosity.
But did it matter? Molly was here to reconnect with her friend Bessie/Lila, not push her nose into his business.
He let out a sigh as he followed her out the door. With Soraya being so elusive, Molly was now his best way in to the Chilkoots. Hopefully she hadn’t heard anything that would send her running before they made it out there.
A strong gust of wind hit him like a shove in the back. Molly twirled around, wide-eyed, her hand on her hat to keep it from flying off. “Storm?” she called in a voice filled with what sounded like excitement.
He grinned. She might be a natural here.
“Storm. Come on. Let’s get you back.”
10
The storm howled down from the mountains and through the town. All night long, the Lamplight Motel’s windows rattled and shook, while Molly snuggled under the covers. She woke a few times, only to get lulled back to sleep by the primal whine of the wind.
Her motel room might be lacking many things—a single piece of furniture without scratches, any bedding that wasn’t slightly threadbare—but it did have blackout shades. She’d had a long trip to this faraway speck on the map, and it felt good to dive into sleep without any worries about an early court date or a morning meeting.
After a night of sleep as deep and dreamless as dark velvet, she woke up with a sense of optimism she hadn’t felt in a long time. Lila seemed to be more-or-less fine. She’d come here by choice and seemed to like it. Maybe Molly didn’t have to worry so much about her. Maybe she could even go right back to New York as soon as the weather allowed. Which…
She flung off her covers and padded in her stocking feet—her feet always got cold at night, even when not in Alaska—to the window. When she pulled up the blackout shade, she had to blink to adjust to the glaring whiteness that had blanketed the town overnight.
This much new snow…in May? Against a fiercely blue sky, a swirling wind was picking up snow crystals and spinning them around in spirals of sparkles. Molly laughed with delight at the whimsical sight. It really did look as if the snow was dancing to some music she couldn’t quite hear. Maybe if she listened closely enough…
