Free Molly Brown by B. A. Morton

that. He imagined that too many people already had too little time for her, and it was about time all that changed.
    He rubbed at tired eyes. It was another mistake , he realized belatedly, to close them when he wasn’t able to follow through naturally and sleep, so he dragged them open and turned back to the flap.
    “Kiddo, I’m going to make sure whatever it is that has you curled up on a library shelf, instead of curled up in bed at home, is fixed for you. Then, when I come back, we can maybe say hi properly and pass the time of day.” He paused again, wondering if he was wasting his time, sure in his gut that he wasn’t. “Maybe you could help me out, then, with some things that have got me pretty confused.” He resisted the urge to check his watch. “ ‘Cause your teacher, Miss Rogers, thinks you’re cool at that kinda stuff.”
    More silence.
    “So, Molly Brown,” he said finally, “you sit tight and enjoy your book and I’ll see you in the morning.”
    He got to his feet , brushed the dirt from the seat of his pants and wondered if he was doing the right thing. He thought about forcing the door and going in to make sure. She was just a kid, after all. But despite what everyone else seemed to think, he personally thought that little Molly Brown was smarter than most. She’d a good reason for making herself scarce and she’d found herself a safe place to lay low. Until he knew why she’d done a disappearing act, he figured she was safer left where she was. No one but a midget could get through the flap and no one but an idiot would try to get past that monster cat.
    He flexed his battered muscles painfully and wondered whether being a good guy was all it was cracked up to be. It seemed like the bad guys were currently way ahead and he needed to do something to put that right. The sooner he signed off on Gibbons and Scott, the sooner he could help out Molly Brown and her wayward sister. As soon as that was done he had to stop taking calls from Gerry Gesting. There was only so much a body could take before it started to look personal , and from where Connell stood, things seemed to be looking pretty much that way already.
    Why were Gibbons and Scott so eager for him to back off and how come they knew so much about him? It seemed people were more interested in him now he was a regular Joe than when he was actually carrying a badge. He wondered about Frankie’s involvement and whether that was just another weird coincidence or merely an indication of how everyone was connected to everyone else in a roundabout way. He wasn’t convinced on the coincidence theory.
    He rubbed at his shoulder and was reminded again of his encounter at Molly’s apartment. Something else that needed looking into. He couldn’t have some freaky guy running around randomly zapping people, only he didn’t believe it was random. The guy had been looking for something, had come to retrieve something specific, and Connell had got in his way. It could have been worse, he supposed. The guy could have been carrying a gun or a knife. He hadn’t, Connell realized, because his intention hadn’t been to kill or maim. He hadn’t expected Connell to be there, but the look on his face when he’d been confronted had simply been one of bemusement. Connell wasn’t sure what to think about that. Somehow he found it more unnerving than Gibbons’ sawed-off. But that didn’t answer the question of what exactly had been hidden beneath the boards in little Molly Brown’s apartment and why the guy thought it important enough to steal.  Perhaps, when he and Molly finally got to say hi, she could help him out with that.
    He gave a final sweeping glance down the alley before returning to his car. The alley was long enough so the noise from the main street at each end didn’t filter through to the middle where he stood. The resulting heavy silence gave it an eerie atmosphere and Connell got the same feeling he’ d experienced in Molly’s room,