Chapter Thirty-ThreeMolly rode her scooter up on the sidewalk outside Chez Papa, leaned it on its kickstand, and hurried inside.
“I laugh every time I see you on that thing, “ said Nico, drying a glass with a dishtowel.
“You’re just jealous,” said Molly. “And who wouldn’t be, she’s so gorgeous.”
“So are you, my dear,” said Lawrence, looking at home on his usual stool with a Negroni parked on the bar in front of him.
“Why, thank you,” said Molly, genuinely happy for a compliment. She had not been feeling tip-top of late, she and Ben having made zero progress on the Boutillier case. “Now what is this latest bit of gossip you have for me? It’s not like you to be so coy when you text me.”
“It’s not gossip, actually—it’s news. And since it happened a few days ago, you’ve probably already h
