Page 57 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

“God got you your man,” Shannon reminded with a soft smile, tweaking her sister’s neck.

Chin high, Cat reached over to pinch Molly’s arm, giving a pointed nod at the dive boat that was just pulling up to Miss Lilly’s dock to let Sloan off. “Yes, He did, and if I have my way, He’s about to do it again for this one here.”

“Ouch.” Molly rubbed her arm. “Keep your fins to yourself, Catfish,” she said with a mock glare, resorting to the nickname Cat’s brother coined for the “chatty twin with the big mouth.” Tugging her shorts down, she hopped off the single step of Miss Lilly’s deck to hurry to meet Sloan between the boat dock and the sitting deck Uncle Hal had built on the water. “So, how’d it go?” she said when they met halfway, suddenly more keenly aware of him as a man now that he was out of uniform.

“Good,” he said as he halted with that half smile he seemed to reserve just for her, “but I’m afraid I can’t stay for lunch as much as I’d like to. The dive was more successful than I expected, so I really need to jump on it.” He led her across the perfectly manicured lawn—mowed weekly by Brec—with a firm hand to the small of her back, shocking her when it set off a tingle she hadn’t expected. “But I’d like a raincheck, Molly, if you’re game? Maybe just the two of us?”

There was no time to answer as the girls pounced on him with questions, which he politely sidestepped with an authentic apology of regret for having to pass on lunch.

“Oh, boo, Sloan, you’re a killjoy,” Cat said with a pout, her relentless efforts to set Molly up with him foiled once again.

He grinned as he ruffled the back of his head, tousling his windblown hair even more. “Occupational hazard for a homicide detective, Catfish.” He turned to Molly. “Can I talk to you privately for a moment?”

“Of course you can.” Cat swished both Molly and Sloan toward the kitchen like a mother hen. “And while you’re at it, tell Brec and Miss Lilly to get a move on, will ya? We’re hungry.”

“She sure is a pistol,” Sloan said with a chuckle as he held the sliding door open for Molly to enter the kitchen.

“That she is, for sure.” She tossed a grin over her shoulder. “Chase has his hands full, I can tell you that.”

“And happily so, I’d say, based on the goofy look on his face 90% of the time.”

“Any luck?” Miss Lilly looked up from setting the table with a glimmer of worry in her eyes.

“Quite a bit, actually, Miss Lilly. So, as much as I hate to miss lunch, I’m afraid I have to get back to the station.”

Pulling his homemade, breaded chicken-deli pockets from the oven, Brec set the pan on trivets and turned around. “Sorry to hear that,” he said in a tone that didn’t sound the least bit sorry at all. He cocked a hip to the counter, thick, corded arms in a tight fold. “So, what’d you find?”

Sloan’s gaze slid from Miss Lilly to Brec, his tone suddenly cautious. “I’d like to run a few tests before I get back to you on that, Brec, if that’s all right.”

Mouth thinning, Brec gave a curt nod.

“Thanks again for the invitation, Miss Lilly. I’ll be in touch,” Sloan said, shocking Molly when he casually laced his fingers through hers to lead her toward the front door. “Walk me out?”

“Sure.” Teeth scraping her lower lip, she cast an uncomfortable look over her shoulder as she followed, only to spy a ferocious scowl on Brec’s face that would shiver an opposing team in soccer.

Sloan closed the front door behind them with a firm click, unleashing an unexpected skitter down Molly’s back for some reason. But when he took a step back in true Detective Kennedy style, she relaxed, air slowly seeping through her lips.

Professional mask in place, he stood before her with hands loose on his hips, studying the floor as if measuring his words. “Molly, where is the coin Cal fished out of the lake?”

She paused, his abrupt question catching her off-guard. “Uh, at the bank, of course, in a safe-deposit box with the rest of Uncle Hal’s collection.”

Sloan glanced at his watch with a weary sigh before pinning her with a somber gaze. “Well, it’s too late today, but can you bring it and Miss Lilly down to the station tomorrow, along with all of her photo albums?”

“Uh … sure.” She swallowed hard. “Can I … ask why?”

His gaze never wavered from hers. “Because the divers found two more belts, one of which has a plate buckle on it that looks like something had been soldered to it. Which means,” he said quietly, those sea-green eyes boring into hers, “we may have found our killer.”