Cady startled awake, hands coming up to ward off whatever attack must be headed her way before she realized Ethan’s anger was directed at the TV. “Seriously?” she groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Tell me you’re not freaking out over a baseball game.”
“Take a look at this,” he pointed, grim faced, and Cady scooted out of the bed in time to see a police sketch that looked suspiciously like Ethan’s face up on the grainy screen.
“What the… what’s going on?”
“He killed another one. Only this time, a witness came up with this,” he pointed again, hand clenching into a fist that slammed against the fragile arm of the loveseat, hard enough to crack the frame.
“Whoa, calm down, it’ll be okay.”
“Yeah? He’s effectively tied my hands behind my back. He can’t find us so he’s got the cops doing his dirty work. Son of a bitch!”
“Hey…” Cady bent to wrap her arms around his shoulders, laying her head atop his. “We’ll figure this out. Right now all they have is a guy that looks sorta like you. In a city this size, it could be anyone.” She held him tight until she felt some of the tension drain from his body. “Let’s focus on something more immediate. Do you have any money?”
Ethan craned his head up to look at her. “Yes, why?”
“Because I’m starving and the smell of those donuts downstairs is driving me nuts. How about you take a nice hot shower and I’ll go down and get us some breakfast?”
“By yourself?”
“Hey, I’m not the fugitive,” she shrugged, letting go of him to slip on her shoes.