Page 82 of No Offense

“Oh, Molly, there you are!” Joanne and Carl Larson caught up with her in the lobby. “I was hoping we’d see you here. Wasn’t that wonderful?”

“Hello!” Molly exchanged hugs with her former landlady and employer. “Yes. How are you both doing?”

“Great! You need to thank your sheriff for us, Molly.” Joanne was grinning as she squeezed Molly’s hand. “We didn’t think anyone could take your place, but Eric Swanson is working out swell.”

“That’s good,” Molly said. She’d felt guilty about leaving the Larsons, but when the opportunity to move into a sweet little one-bedroom apartment above Island Blooms had become available, she simply hadn’t been able to turn it down. She’d been running herself ragged trying to work nights at the inn while putting in full days at the library, especially after the new library opened. There’d been so much extra work to do.

Fortunately, John had recommended one of his deputies to the Larsons to take her place at the Lazy Parrot, and the transition had worked out perfectly.

“I’m glad Eric’s doing well,” Molly said.

“More than well.” Carl was practically radiating high spirits. The Snappettes could do that to people. “That guy’s got a real feel for hospitality. I don’t know what he was doing in law enforcement in the first place.”

“That’s so good to hear! I have to go now, okay? I’ll see both of you later.” Molly happened to spy John—who’d changed back into his regular street clothes—in the crowd behind Carl and Joanne. He was holding the bouquet of roses that Patrick and Bill had given him and throwing her desperate looks while trying to fend off a large group of other well-wishers.

“Oh, of course, honey.” Joanne gave her one last hug. “Give Fluffy the Cat my love. We miss him over at the inn, but he just loved you so much—it’s better that he’s with you.”

“I will! And thanks!”

And then Molly was across the lobby and at John’s side.

“You were so great!” she cried, rising on tip-toe to give him a modest peck on the cheek. She didn’t want to scandalize any of the “cottontops”—as John affectionately referred to Little Bridge’s more elderly citizens—by doing what she wanted to, which was throw her arms around him and kiss him on the lips.

“Thank you, Molly,” he said, behaving as circumspectly as she was—but only, she knew, because they were in public. “I have to admit, I was pretty nervous.”

“Glad it wasn’t me up there,” Randy Jamison, the city planner, said, slapping John on the back. “Of course, itwouldn’t have been, because I’d have to be dead before I’d be caught up on a stage like that.”

“That could be arranged,” Pete Abramowitz said dryly.

“What was that?” Randy asked.

“Nothing.” Pete winked at Molly, who grinned back at him.

“Do you want to get out of here?” John leaned down to whisper in Molly’s ear.

“Sure, if you want to. But what about Katie?”

“Oh, she and the other girls are heading off to get pizza. They’re starving.”

Molly slipped her fingers in between his. “You must be, too. You expended a lot of energy up there.”

He grinned down at her. “I think I have a little left.”

“Miss Molly! Sheriff Hartwell! Miss Molly! Over here!”

Molly turned toward the sound of the all-too-familiar voice and saw Elijah standing by the lobby’s drinking fountain, his father’s Leica in his hands.

“Hi,” he said. “Hey, sorry to disturb you, but can I get a photo of you two together?”

“Elijah,” Molly began, rolling her eyes.

“Just real quick. It’s for the school paper. I’m the official school photographer. It’s for the last edition, before school lets out for the summer.”

“Sure.” John, suddenly magnanimous, wrapped his arm around Molly’s waist and pulled her toward him, then plastered his “sheriff’s smile” on his face. “How’s this?”

“Oh, great,” Elijah said, snapping away, making generoususe of his flash. “That’s just great! You two make a real attractive couple—did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Elijah,” Molly said in a warning voice.