Eye of the Falcon by Dale Mayer

Author:Dale Mayer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Suspense
ISBN: 9781773360171
Publisher: Valley Publishing
Published: 2017-12-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Issa woke up feeling tired, exhausted, and broken in an odd way. With a start, she realized she wasn’t even in bed. She was in Eagle’s arms, her head on his chest. They were no longer in her bedroom but out in the living room on the couch. She shifted to look up at his face. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Not too long, half an hour.” He motioned to the couch beside him. “I came out here to go through some of your papers but didn’t want to leave you alone.”

She yawned, wanting to lay her head back down against his chest. But it felt odd, now that she was awake. And then she realized she had to go to the bathroom. She slowly, carefully extricated herself from the blankets. And, with his help, finally managed to stand. She walked carefully back to the bedroom and into the bathroom. She’d warmed up, but now she was mobbed with fatigue.

She grabbed the sweater they’d bought at the secondhand store, tugged it on before she walked back out to the living room. Her feet were better every time she was on them. They still felt spongy and odd, but her mobility was much improved. She walked into the kitchen, spied the teakettle, and asked, “Do you mind if I put the kettle on?”

“Go ahead. How are the feet?”

“I was just thinking about that,” she said as she picked up the kettle and walked to the sink, filling it with water. “They feel much better actually. Still tender but not quite so clunky. More like my real feet instead of stumps stuck to the end of my legs.”

“Good,” he said, but his voice was distracted.

She put the kettle back on the stove and turned on the burner. She didn’t know where the teabags were. She opened a couple drawers, found them, grabbed a second cup rather than walking all the way back to her bedroom, and then saw a teapot. She decided she’d make a cup for him, and, if he didn’t want any, she’d have two. She placed the teabags into the pot and turned, watching him as he went through the papers in one of the files.

“Did you find anything interesting?”

“I found lots that’s interesting,” he said, turning his attention from the documents in his hands to look at her. “I don’t know how relevant any of it is to you in the present though. Your father was a criminal with a record and was facing charges that would put him away for a long time.”

She frowned. “I saw something in there about criminal charges, but I couldn’t deal with reading it at the time.” She walked to where he sat, her arms wrapped around her chest. “What kind of charges?”

He stared at her quietly. “Attempted murder.”

She closed her eyes and swayed on her feet. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

His voice was sympathetic, but, at the same time, there was nothing anybody could do. It was a long time ago. “Does it say who he supposedly tried to murder?”

“Angus McKinley,” he said.

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