Page 52 of The Followers

Liv’s eyebrows shot up. “But... ?”

“You may—occasionally—give people the impression that you don’t want them to get close to you.”

Liv snorted. “I know. Ollie tells me that all the time.”

“Ollie?”

“My brother.”

Molly was about to ask Liv about him when she got the strange feeling that she was being watched. Sitting up, she glanced behind her at the crowd of moms and kids on the lawn. None of them seemed to be paying attention to her. Relax, she told herself. Her confrontation with those “fans” in Silverton had left her distrustful.

“Listen, friend,” she said, refocusing on Liv. “If this guy shows up at your place to see you almost every morning, he likes you. He’s probably just waiting for some encouragement.”

“Some encouragement,” Liv repeated.

“Yeah.” Molly waved at Chloe, who was flopping like a mermaid in the shallow water a few yards away. “What’s he like, anyway?”

Liv’s cheeks tinged pink again. “He teases me constantly. When he laughs, he gets these little crinkly lines around his eyes. They’re dark brown—his eyes—so dark it’s hard to see his pupils. And he has a beard, a kind of barely-there reddish beard, but it works.”

“Nice,” Molly murmured. “What else do you know about him?”

“He hikes and bikes and rock climbs and skis.”

“You’ve just described half the male population in Durango.”

“And he’s an accountant.”

Molly was about to respond when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. That feeling of being watched. Slowly, she glanced around the pool area. No one seemed out of place, and again she told herself to relax.

“I don’t know any cute, bearded accountants,” she said to Liv, forcing a smile. “But give him a little encouragement. See what happens. You might as well have someone to pass the time with, right? A cute guy will make these next few weeks a lot more fun.”

Although she didn’t like the thought of Liv moving away, just when she’d started opening up.

“Have you ever thought about settling down in Durango?” she asked.

Liv looked startled. “What? No. I don’t know. Maybe.”

Molly didn’t press the issue, and they both continued watching the girls play in the water. But the hairs on the back of her neck kept raising. Her stomach was buzzing with nerves. Quickly, she glanced behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Liv asked.

Molly shook her head, thought about Hoopi, barking at the open window. “Nothing. You want to come over for dinner? Scott will be home later—I’ve told him all about you.”

Liv’s guarded expression was back. “Sorry, I have stuff to do.”

Molly tried not to frown; she was disappointed, yes, but she also couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that she was afraid to be alone.

When she pulled into the driveway at home, Scott’s 4Runner was already there, parked next to the faded green Westfalia near the back of the house. The girls tumbled out of Molly’s car to run inside and greet him. Molly headed to the mailbox, rifling through the bills and advertisements for something from the Ohio Vital Records office.

Her heart thumped when she saw them: two identical envelopes, both addressed to her.

The front door opened, and she jumped.

“Hi, wife,” Scott called.

She turned around, holding the mail against her chest. “Hi, husband.”

“I’m not sure why you’re not giving me a kiss right now.” He leaned against the doorframe, watching her, an easy smile on his face. Looking at him, her heart slowed down. She relaxed, the way she always did when he was around.