ISAAC BLINKED AND SAT UP. The blanket pooled at his waist, and he realized he was still on the couch and the sun was coming through the east window and spilling across his face.
The room was empty, but his nose detected coffee. He swung his feet over the side and pushed himself into a sitting position. A glass of water and two pills sat on a napkin at the edge of the coffee table.
Take the Toradol when your shoulder wakes you up. The other pill is your antibiotic.
He downed the pills. Taking inventory, he determined that while his shoulder was on fire once more, he could stand without weaving.
In the kitchen, he found two mugs and poured the coffee that had just finished brewing. With one hand, he hooked the handles and carried them to the open back door.
Ruthie sat on the screened-in porch, book in hand, feet propped on the little plastic table in front of her.
Shouldering the door open, he stepped outside.
She looked up and smiled. “You look like you’re feeling a bit better.”
“A bit.”
She took the coffee from him. “How’d you know I like it black?”
“There’s no cream or sugar set out.”
“Hm. Observant.”
“Occasionally.”
“The shoulder?”
“Hurts.”
“The pills?”
“Taken.”
She laughed. “I like you, Isaac Martinez.” Then she sobered. “What are we going to do about the men trying to kill you? I think it’s only a matter of time before they track us here.”
“I know. Which is why I’ve got to leave.”
A frown dipped her brows. “You’re not strong enough to leave.”
“I don’t have a choice. I’m a dead man if I stay. And not only that, I’m endangering you, as well.”
“Brady’s here. He got here last night after you passed out.”
“Fell asleep.” Her “passed out” description was probably more apt. The fact that he hadn’t heard a thing scared him.
A lot.
She gave a longsuffering sigh. “Whatever.”
“Where is he now?” he asked.
“Checking the perimeter.” She nodded to the radio next to her. “He said he’d let me know if he found anything.” She lowered her bare feet to the porch floor. “For now, there’s nothing to be alarmed about.”
“I’m alarmed you feel like you can sit out here in the open. Come inside, please.”
“It’s not exactly open.”
“It’s a screened-in porch. Not exactly bulletproof.”
She frowned, but she didn’t argue further and let him lead the way.
He took a seat on the couch, letting out a low grunt when he jarred his shoulder. “Did Brady have anything to say when he got here last night?”
“No, not much, other than that the syringe our attacker at the hospital had was filled with potassium chloride, and I could have picked a worse place to harbor a fugitive.”
“Hey, now. I’m not a fugitive. At least not in the usual sense of the word. It’s only the bad guys who’re after me, not the law.”
“They’re one and the same this time, aren’t they?”
He stilled. “I don’t want to believe it, but yeah, I think so.”
“They don’t like that you ratted one out without the proof to back it up. That cop code thing is strong.”
He blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. “Yes. It is.” He paused. “Even my family has turned against me.”
“I noticed your sister was rather . . . um . . .”
“Unconcerned?”
“No, actually, she was very concerned. She seemed like she wanted to stay but couldn’t for some reason. She was torn.”
He could see that. “Her husband’s a cop. He probably forbade her from having anything to do with me.”
“And yet she came to the hospital to check on you.”
“True. We were close, once upon a time.” He took a drink of his coffee. “Potassium chloride, huh?”
“Yes.”
“That’s bad.”
“Very. If he’d managed to get that in you, you wouldn’t be here.”
He nodded.
“You must have some suspicions about your partner,” she said.
“Cole.”
“And his buddy, Paul? I didn’t care much for either of them, even though they were friendly . . . in an intimidating sort of way.”
“They didn’t seem to bother you any.”
She laughed. “I have three brothers. I’ve learned to hide my pounding heart and stand up to bullies.”
“Your brothers bullied you?”
“I would have said so at the time, but looking back, they were just big, annoying teases.”
His spine stiffened as a footstep creaked the wooden boards on the porch, and his fingers curled around the weapon he never left far from his reach.
She peered through a crack in the blinds. “It’s just Brady. One of my bullies . . . er . . . brothers.”
If he wasn’t so tense, he’d have laughed.
After a light rap on the door, her brother stepped inside. His eyes went straight to Isaac. “Glad to see you awake.”
“Thanks.”
He switched his attention to Ruthie. “Heard you say something about bullies.”
“Just that you have to stand up to them—and big brothers, too. Did you see anything out there?”
He frowned. “I’m not sure. Could be residents of the other cabins around here, or it could be someone trying to figure out which cabin to target.”
Isaac stood with a grunt. “That’s my cue to go. I’ve got to find Sally Peterson. She can help me find Howard, who has the evidence I need to prove my story and clear my name. He was going to give it to me, then decided he’d rather make money off it, the jerk. Fortunately, Sally doesn’t live too far from here.”
“You can’t go tracking someone down with your shoulder like that,” Brady said.
“I don’t have much choice. I’m worried about her.”
The window behind them exploded, sending Brady and Isaac diving for Ruthie.