peered through the fog, spotting some thin places where they could be seen and shot at. The sun was going down but not quickly enough to hide them in the darkness.
Still hunched over, Jon nodded toward shore. “Turn here.”
“Let’s go.” She linked his arm again, tugging him into the creek.
Jon stumbled a couple of times, but she managed to keep him on his feet. And it wasn’t long before they were across the stretch of beach. From there Jon led them alongside the bluff until he finally stopped at what appeared to be some steep stone steps, carved right into the bluff. “This way,” he puffed.
Still cradling Ralph in her arms, she let Jon lead the way up the steps, giving him nudges with her shoulder when his footsteps slowed. She knew he was struggling. He’d lost blood and was dehydrated. Even though the gunshot wound didn’t look too serious, it had to be hurting. And if it didn’t get cleaned out, infection could set in.
Through the fog, a large dark shape emerged before them on top of the bluff. It appeared to be a house and as they got closer, she saw that it was made of dark gray stone, similar to the rocky cliff it sat upon. Relief washed through her as Jon led them through an overgrown hedge and across a mossy patio to a back door. He dug in the pocket of his cargo shorts, producing a key. Before long, he’d unlocked the door and led her inside to an enclosed porch that was also a laundry room. “Must lock up,” he said between breaths. “No lights.”
Still panting, Jon locked the porch door, then quickly punched some numbers into a keypad that must’ve been linked to a security system. That was somewhat reassuring. He led them into what appeared to be a kitchen, locking that door, as well. Only illuminated by the last rays of dimming gray light, the old-fashioned room looked slightly eerie—almost like a scene from an old horror movie. Leah suddenly wondered what she was doing here—with a perfect stranger—or if she was even safe. After all, she didn’t even know this man. Not really. Still, it was better than being out there with the crazy cop imposter.
Leah’s mind attempted to replay the mad race up and down the beach, the gunshots, being stopped by the cop. It all felt surreal now. The fact that a “cop” wanted them dead was mind-boggling. In fact, none of this made any sense. How had she gotten herself into such a mess? But somehow, holding the warm little dog in her arms and seeing Jon’s stressed but handsome face peering curiously at her brought a sense of reassurance to her.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I kind of feel like I’m in shock.”
“Me, too.” Jon was still breathing heavily as he reached for Ralph. “Thanks. For helping with him.”
“We need to hydrate,” she told him.
He retrieved a couple of water bottles from a case sitting on the counter, handing her one. As she opened it, Jon filled a bowl with water, setting it on the floor for Ralph to lap. Then he took a long swig from the water bottle.
“You should probably have something besides just straight water to hydrate.” She glanced around the small kitchen. Her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light and she could take in the surroundings. Old-fashioned cabinets, a small kitchen table, a gas stove with pots hanging above it. “Your electrolytes are probably low. Do you have some juice or soda or something?”
“Here.” Jon handed her a beach towel. “Hold that up while I open the fridge—to block the light from showing—just in case anyone’s around to see it.” She held up her “screen” as he opened the fridge. He quickly snagged a bottle of orange juice and a couple of sodas, then closed the door. “There.” He handed her a can of soda.
“We need to cleanse your wound,” she said after she nearly drained her water bottle. “And Ralph’s, too. Do you have any first-aid supplies here? And is there a place where we can turn on more lights so that I can examine the wounds?”
Jon pointed at the window above the sink. “Light will leak through those shutters.” He carried Ralph toward a dark hallway. “But we can black out the bathroom window. And there’s a first-aid kit in there.”
As Leah followed him, she noticed lights flashing in another part of the house. “Jon,” she whispered urgently, tugging on his shirt. “Look!”
As he turned around, she motioned for him to bend down low, pointing to a window in the front of the house where the light had flashed through. “It looked like some sort of searchlight,” she whispered.
“Here.” He slipped Ralph into her arms. “Keep him quiet. And go down the hallway. First door to your right is the basement. Go lock the door, and muzzle him while I investigate.”
* * *
Staying low, Jon crept into the front room in time to spot a police cruiser slowly driving by, flashing a searchlight all around the yard and finally moving on to do the same to the next cabin. This wasn’t the unmarked car that Krantz had been driving, but a well-marked cruiser that was obviously looking for someone. Not good news, since it seemed to suggest that Krantz might really have police connections after all.
Jon watched as the cruiser slowly made its way to the next cabin, once again sweeping it with a bright beam of light, shining it up and down and all around with dogged determination. How long would it take them to figure out that he and Leah were holed up here? And what then?
Staying low, Jon made his way to the basement door, quietly tapping on it, whispering that it was him and waiting to hear the lock clicking. The door opened and, even in the semidarkness, Jon could sense her fear.
“Is he gone?”
Jon just nodded. He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her about the police cruiser just yet. That would probably just scare her even more. It had certainly shaken him to think that Krantz wasn’t working alone.
“What should we do?” she asked.
“We need a plan.”
“And we need to tend those wounds,” she told him.
He led her to the bathroom, where he hung several towels over the flimsy curtain that covered the small window. But, still not convinced the towels would keep out the light, he got a roll of duct tape, then securely taped all the possible cracks, finally turning on the light above the sink. They both blinked at the brightness of the room, and Ralph actually wagged his tail. Jon grabbed another towel, shoving it against the crack at the bottom of the door. Just in case.
“Poor little guy.” Leah set Ralph in the claw-foot tub. “We need to clean you up.” She turned to Jon. “But I suggest we do you first.” She frowned as she started to scrub out the sink. “I wish we could boil some water.”
“Really?” He frowned. “I thought that was just in movies.”
“Do you have rubbing alcohol?”
“My mom probably does. Dad teases her that she should’ve been a doctor instead of a lawyer.” He opened the large linen closet where his mom stocked all sorts of medical things, including a first-aid kit that he handed to her. Then he started reading the labels from various bottles. “Cough suppressant, aspirin, hydrogen peroxide, milk of magnesia, Neosporin, witch hazel, iodine, rubbing alcohol—”
“Impressive.” She reached for the rubbing alcohol, using it to douse the already cleaned sink, then, plugging the drain, she filled
