April patted his hand as if in support and excitement. She really was a sweetheart.
Mal moved away from the table and walked to meet Isaac. Okay. He’d been drugged. Knowing the fact gave him some power over the situation. And he’d taken just enough to be mellow and not pass out, so they didn’t want him incapacitated.
Isaac led the way across the veranda and into the side door, which turned out to be his office. Mal studied the place again. Small table over by a bookshelf, sprawling desk flanked by a couple of leather chairs, and two bigger chairs and sofa over by a roaring fireplace. He let himself trip and almost went down, catching himself and grabbing the bug out of his sock.
“Whoa.” Isaac grasped his arm and helped him get steady. “Are you all right, my brother?”
“Yes. Sorry about that. Just a little off balance.” Mal slid the bug beneath the edge of the desk as they moved by it to take the chairs by the crackling fireplace.
Isaac also sat, leaning toward Mal. “Sometimes the pain in our lives can take away our mental acuity.” His voice was soothing. Calm. “You’ve been drinking a lot. Trying to banish those demons from your time on the police force.”
Mal nodded. “That would be the truth.”
Isaac stood and moved to a cabinet in the wall, opening a slot to reveal a full bar. He poured two very generous glasses of Scotch and returned to hand one to Malcolm. “Alcohol isn’t the problem. It’s why we drink that matters.”
So drugs plus booze. The hard sell was happening. Even so, Mal took a deep drink of the expensive elixir. It was like coming home.
The door opened, and three men strode inside. They wore the customary light-colored linen clothing, but two of them had guns strapped to their thighs.
Mal felt like he should tense, but his body was too relaxed. “Why are they armed?”
Isaac sighed, his brown eyes sorrowful. “We have to protect our family. There are people out there who threaten us and our way of life. Can you imagine that?”
Mal took another drink. “From the outside, you look like a cult.”
Isaac’s dark eyebrow arched, and his lips curved. “What do you think?”
Oh, definitely a cult. “It seems like a lot of people just trying to live, if you ask me,” Mal said, sipping more of his drink. “I wasn’t sure at first because of all the light clothing and everyone seeming so happy.”
“Being happy is wrong?” Isaac asked.
“Just unusual,” Mal said honestly.
“What changed your mind?” Isaac took a sip of his drink.
Mal partially turned to eye the guys with the guns. “The self-defense classes and the guns. Neither of those go with cults. People here are encouraged to take care of themselves, even if it means engaging in violence. That’s not like a cult.” He shrugged. “As far as I know.”
Isaac studied him, his gaze shrewd. “Is that all?”
Mal met his gaze directly and then shrugged again. “I don’t know. Part of me just doesn’t give a shit anymore anyway. You know?”
“I truly do.” Isaac nodded to the closest armed man. The guy was about six feet tall, bald, and scarred. “Leroy was a soldier for years and nearly got blown up. When he came to the family, he wanted to die.”
Leroy nodded, not much expression in his dark eyes. “That’s true. The family saved me.”
Isaac smiled as if in approval. “Do you men need me?”
“No,” Leroy said. “Just wanted to report in that we’ve scouted the entire acreage, and the fences are going up nicely. We should be better protected soon.”
“Good. Let’s meet in a couple of hours,” Isaac said. “Before you go, Malcolm, please meet Eagle and George. These men help me protect the family.”
Mal nodded as the other two did the same. Eagle and George? Who came up with the names around here? Something told him that Leroy and George had gotten to keep their original names. What kind of pain and baggage had come with them? Why didn’t Leroy or George get new names and fresh beginnings? It seemed Isaac knew exactly how to push buttons with each member.
The men left.
Mal rubbed his eyes.
“You look tired. Would you like to stay the night tonight?” Isaac asked. “I know April would enjoy your company.”
