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As Diana slipped back into the cabin, a tiny cloud of snowflakes accompanied her into the small building. She brushed the snow off her suit jacket and then shook the large flakes from her hair. Stomping her feet, more fell off her new Frye flats. She clicked off the flashlight they had found, setting it on the entryway side table.
Glancing around the dimly lit room, she was pleasantly surprised to see what Neal had accomplished while she had been checking to see if Simmons and his men were still following them. Between the weather and nightfall, it seemed they had managed to elude their captures, at least for now.
The small cottage was aglow, a fire burning brightly in the fireplace, and there was the aroma of coffee brewing. A pair of faded jeans, an old flannel shirt, a pair of wool socks, and a belt were strewn over a kitchenette chair. She shivered as she realized just how cold she was.
Neal peeked his head over the couch. “I found some old clothes in the closet – you probably want to change out of your wet stuff before you catch cold.”
“Thanks, Neal.” She grabbed the clothes and looked around for someplace to change.
“I promise not to look if you want to change there by the door. Scout’s honor.” Neal smiled at her before ducking his head back behind the sofa.
“Except you were never a Boy Scout, Caffrey.” She grabbed the flashlight and clothes and headed down the small hallway to the bedroom.
She was happy to get out of her wet clothes and quickly slipped into the oversized items that Neal had found. She tied up the flannel shirt and tightened the belt to keep the jeans from falling off. Feeling warmer, she headed back out to the main living area.
As she entered the room, she stood and watched Neal. He had dragged in the old mattress from the bedroom and placed it in front of the fireplace. He had just finished bandaging Peter’s wound, and was busy tucking blankets around him in an effort to keep Peter warm. Neal laid his hand on Peter’s forehead and shook his head.
“How’s he doing?” Diana was worried. Peter had been shot and had been bleeding heavily when they’d made their escape through the woods. The blizzard kept the bad guys from chasing them too far, but Peter had been stumbling, getting weaker by the minute.
Neal looked up at her. “Not good, but at least the bleeding has stopped. He’s running a fever and was complaining about being cold. I got him stripped out of his wet clothes and bundled him up in the blankets.”
Diana laid a hand on Neal’s shoulder. “He’s tough, he’ll be okay. Tomorrow I’m going to hike up the road and see if I can flag someone down.”
“Is that going to be safe?”
“It’ll have to be. I’m hoping to find a city truck out checking the road. I can have them call an ambulance and we can get Peter help.”
“What about Simmons?”
Diana snorted. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll be long gone. When I catch up to him, he’s going away for a very long time.”
Peter’s coughing got both their attention. He was still unconscious, but was starting to thrash about. Neal reached over and picked up a rag sitting on the coffee table, dipped the cloth into a small bowl of water, and wiped Peter’s face and neck in an attempt to cool him down.
She watched as Neal took care of her boss, amazed at their friendship. It was strange to see her boss being friends with a conman, but they were there for each other. When Neal first agreed to the anklet, she thought it was a bad idea, but now it was hard to imagine their unit without him being part of the team.
As she continued to survey the two men, she noticed that Neal was still wearing his suit. “Neal, why are you still wearing those wet clothes? You’re going to get sick.”
Neal shrugged. “There was only one set of clothes, I thought you should have them.”
Diana sighed. “Neal, I need you to stay healthy. Are there any more blankets? We can wrap one around you, toga style, it will help keep you warm.” Before Neal could answer she started opening drawers and rummaging through closets.
Neal removed himself from Peter’s side and joined her. “I looked but didn’t find any more.”
She took one of the blankets that was piled on top of Peter and tossed it at Neal. “Strip and wrap yourself up in this.”
He grinned at her. “Diana, I didn’t realize you had feelings for me.”
She mocked hitting him. But he disappeared down the dark hallway and came back wrapped in the old wool material.
Neal looked at her and whined, “It itches."
“Too bad, it’ll keep you warm.” She poured out two cups of coffee and handed him one.
They both took a sip and cringed. “Well, at least it’s warm,” Diana quipped.
When the coffee was gone, they settled in for the night. Neal curled up on the floor next to Peter, keeping his vigil, checking on the man’s wound and making sure he was comfortable. Diana flopped on a recliner, exhausted; she fell asleep almost immediately after closing her eyes.
Bright sunlight was streaming through the blinds when she woke up. She stretched and snuggled under the blanket. Then it dawned on her: she didn’t have a blanket when she sat down. Looking around she realized Neal was gone. He’d left the fire stoked and more of the weak coffee for her.
She paced the floor, trying to come up with a new plan. She wondered what had made Caffrey take off. Peter groaned and she went over to check on him. He was still unconscious, but he had a greyish pallor and she could see his wound was seeping red blood and some yellow fluid that indicted an infection was setting in. She laid her hand on his cheek; he was burning up, which was probably why Neal had taken off. She was positive Neal’s allegiance to Peter caused him to go look for help. She just hoped he would be able to do so.
The sound of a vehicle driving towards the cabin caused her to jump. She wished she had her gun; if Simmons’ men had found them, she wouldn’t be able to do anything. She peered out the window as an ambulance came to a stop and Caffrey jumped out. He ran to the door followed by two other men.
Within ten minutes, they were all loaded in the back of the vehicle and headed to the hospital. The paramedics had stabilized Peter and told her a quick assessment of her boss. He needed surgery and some good antibiotics, but should be good as new.
Diana reached over and wrapped an arm around Neal. “Thanks, Neal, you did good, but don’t ever do that again.”
He beamed. “Anytime.”
She sat back and rested against the wall of the ambulance. They were currently safe, and tomorrow she would chase down Simmons and be sure he would spend lots of time behind bars.