Baddest Bad Boys by Shannon McKenna, Cate Noble, E. C. Sheedy

down.
     
    The shower started to hiss. He had just that much time to pull himself together. He gathered jumbled plates from the table, dumped them into the sink. His phone lay on the table, still off. He thumbed it on, to see if anything was happening out there.
     
    Six calls. All from Jo Hirsch, his buddy from Social Services whom he’d asked to check on Molly. His chest seized up at the thought of something happening to sweet, dotty old Molly, his honorary grandma. He was pulling up Jo’s number when the phone buzzed in his hand. He hit Talk. “Yeah? Jo? What’s up with Molly?”
     
    “Thank God you finally turned your phone on,” Joanna fussed.
     
    “I know.” Impatience roughened his voice. “What’s up with Molly? Is she sick? Did she fall? Did something happen?”
     
    “Molly’s OK. But something weird happened. I saw this woman come out of your duplex. Young, pretty, blond hair, well dressed. Turns out she was in there with Molly for the last half hour, eating lemon cookies and sorting her meds! She told Molly she was me!”
     
    “No shit,” he said slowly. “That is really weird.”
     
    “It sure was,” Joanna said forcefully. “Particularly since it took me twenty minutes of talking through her door, plus a call to my boss, to persuade Molly that I was not the impostor. And now Molly’s all wound up. I stayed with her as long as I could, but I have lots of calls to make.”
     
    “Yeah. Thanks for letting me know.” His mind buzzed, wondering who he knew who would pull a stunt like that. He came up blank.
     
    “Have you disappointed any of your lady friends recently, Jon?”
     
    Yeah, right. He snorted. Jo enjoyed needling him. “No hot blondes come to mind except for Vicki, and Molly knows Vicki. Hates her too.”
     
    “I don’t blame her,” Joanna commented. “I checked Molly’s meds, and they were sorted appropriately, but still. It makes my flesh creep.”
     
    “Jo, I know you’re busy, but could you check on her tomorrow?”
     
    “Yes, of course. I’ve already slotted her in. Don’t worry.”
     
    Good old Jo. He sighed in relief. “I owe you. I’ll call tomorrow.”
     
    “OK. Till then. Have a good one.”
     
    He hit End and stared down at the phone, sick with foreboding.
     
    He punched in Molly’s number, waited for the ten rings it took for the arthritic old lady to hobble to the phone. “Hello?” she quavered.
     
    “Hey, Molly, it’s me, Jon.”
     
    “Jonny! The funniest thing just happened! There were two Joannas this morning!”
     
    “Yeah, I know. Joanna number two was the real one. If you ever see Joanna number one again, lock your door and call 911. Then speed dial the other number I programmed into your phone, OK? That’s Mendez, the detective that works with me. Talk to her. Understand?”
     
    It took fifteen solid minutes of stroking and soothing to get the rattled Molly calmed down and coherent. When he finally ended the call, Robin stood behind him. Damp, naked and gorgeous, toweling her long, wet hair. She looked troubled. “Problems?”
     
    He tossed the phone down. “I got a friend to look in on my neighbor while I was gone. Molly’s ninety. She can’t get around much. And some blonde came to see Molly this morning who said that she was Jo. Sorted her meds. Ate her cookies. What the fuck is that about?”
     
    Robin’s eyes widened. “Ooh. That’s creepy.”
     
    “Yeah,” he agreed. “Oh, yeah.”
     
    “Are you, um…” She chewed her lip. “Are you thinking you need to go back early?”
     
    “Yeah, I am,” he admitted. “I don’t like this. At all.”
     
    “I don’t blame you,” she said. “When will you leave?”
     
    He hesitated. “Not before tomorrow. I don’t want to pop our magic bubble yet. Not before we absolutely have to.”
     
    Her face lit up, like dawn lighting the sky. “What’ll we do today?”
     
    “You mean, aside from…” He waggled his eyebrows lasciviously.
     
    She giggled.