Chapter Twenty-Four
Three days at the cabin and Isaac had almost convinced himself they could stay forever.
Almost.
The morning routine had settled into something dangerously close to normal—Fallon at the kitchen table with his laptop, working through whatever Cassandra had sent overnight, Isaac cooking eggs neither of them were particularly hungry for.
Her wrist was improving. The compression wrap came off for longer stretches now, and she could close her hand into something that resembled a fist if she didn’t think about it too hard.
But the information from Cassandra’s last call sat between them like a third presence in the room. Former targets had organized and pooled their resources, and the money was flowing through channels that suggested they’d hired a professional to find Fallon and Cassandra. The search was narrowing by the day. They were safe for now, but the clock was ticking underneath every quiet morning.
His resignation made it worse. He’d told Fallon about the email two days ago, and she’d gone quiet in a way that was worse than anger. The idea that he’d given up his career becauseof her—because of the choices she’d made, the life she’d built, the danger she’d pulled him into—sat badly with her. She’d told him as much. They’d moved past the argument, but not past the bruise underneath it. Things between them were good. That particular wound just hadn’t closed yet.
Isaac quietly set down the spatula and grabbed the Glock on the side table on his way to the door. Fallon’s head came up from the laptop screen as he walked by, eyes tracking his movement. He walked to the window and checked outside—nobody should be here.
Ian DeRose was standing on the porch.
Isaac set down the weapon and opened the door.
Jeans, a canvas jacket, sunglasses pushed up on his head. Arms loose at his sides, weight centered, the unhurried stillness of a man who had never once in his life arrived anywhere by accident. He could have been a neighbor stopping by to borrow a drill.
“Morning,” Ian said.
“Morning.”
Isaac should’ve been more surprised to see his boss—former boss—here. This was Ian. The man had a talent for knowing things he shouldn’t know and showing up where no one expected him. Plus, the cabin was Isaac’s family property, traceable if someone knew where to look. Finding this place would have taken him about ten minutes.
“You going to invite me in,” Ian said, “or do I need to stand out here and admire the lake?”
Isaac stepped back. Ian walked in, his gaze sweeping the room—exits, sight lines, the full picture taken in before he’d crossed the threshold. His eyes found Fallon standing near the kitchen table.
“Ian, this is Fallon Hemingway. Fallon, Ian DeRose. Zodiac’s founder.”
Fallon straightened. Shoulders squared, chin up, her entire frame tightening into the particular alertness of a woman assessing whether the person in front of her was a threat.
Ian extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Fallon.”
She shook it. Her grip was her left hand—the right wrist still wasn’t ready for that—but Ian didn’t comment.
“Likewise.”
Ian seemed to have zero surprise at finding a woman in Isaac’s cabin. If Isaac didn’t know better he would’ve said Ian had been expecting to find her here.
Fallon looked between the two of them. Whatever she read in the silence told her what she needed to know.
“I’ll give you two some space to talk privately.” She picked up her coffee and Isaac’s laptop and walked toward the study. The door closed behind her.
Ian sat down at the kitchen table. Isaac turned off the stove and sat across from him.
“I’m not accepting your resignation,” Ian said.
That wasn’t at all what Isaac had been expecting. If anything, he would’ve thought Ian was here to give him a talking down. “You should.”
“Good thing I don’t give a shit about your opinion on this particular matter.”
“Ian, I walked away from an active client detail. Left my team in the middle of the Endicott assignment. Used Zodiac resources—Peter’s time, the safehouse network—for personal reasons.” Isaac leaned forward. “That’s not a gray area. That’s a compromise no security firm should absorb, and you know it.”
“I do know it. And I’m still not accepting the resignation.”
