Valerie Hansen - Face of Danger

“Look. Forget the coffee and just come here,” Cade said as he unzipped his leather bomber jacket and draped it over the back of an empty chair. He was not a patient man, especially in cases where he didn’t have enough hard facts to be certain he could avert further problems.

“Okay.” Paige sat and folded her hands in her lap while Cade circled to the opposite side of the small kitchen table. “Everything seemed fine when I got home. When Angela—that’s my roommate—left. Max was outside in the yard.”

Cade had taken out a pad and pen to jot notes as she cited the prowler’s approximate age, height and weight.

It was when she began to relate the rest of her story that he leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table and closely studied her. In view of the fact that nothing disastrous had occurred, he was wondering why she hadn’t regained a little more of her composure during the fifteen or twenty minutes it had taken him to reach her.

“When I called Max and he didn’t come, I went outside to look for him,” Paige said. “That’s when I spotted a strange man in the bushes.”

“And you ran.”

Her green eyes misted and widened. “No! He caught me.” Extending her left arm and resting it on the table, she displayed the beginnings of a wide band of bruising near her wrist.

Cade was astounded. No wonder she was still so upset. Without thinking, he reached out and traced the injury lightly, gently, with one finger. “I’m sorry I was so short with you. I had no idea he’d actually made contact.”

To his surprise, the corners of Paige’s mouth started to twitch. Was she thinking of smiling? Now? After all the shaking she’d been doing?

“He made contact all right,” she said with a nod. “And he had a good, strong hold on me. His hands were enormous. You can see that from the marks he left.”

“So, how did you get loose?” Cade glanced down to recheck his notes. “If he was as big and strong as you say, he should have been able to easily overpower you.”

The smile was now unmistakable. “I know. He shouldn’t have started to laugh at me. That made me so mad I went a little crazy. That was what saved me.”

“Really? What happened?”

“I’m not sure. All I remember is being absolutely furious and then cutting loose with more force and strength than I’d ever imagined I had. First I kicked him in the patella—the kneecap. Then, when he bent over to grab his leg, I straight-armed his face. Caught him right under the nose with an upward thrust from the heel of my hand.”

“Ouch. Did you break his nose?”

“If the cracking sound was any indication, I sure did.” She sobered. “I know I shouldn’t be happy about inflicting pain on anyone but this guy deserved everything he got. And more.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Nothing I care to repeat, thank you.”

Cade had to chuckle. “I don’t mean when you busted his nose. I mean before that. When he first grabbed you. Think. Anything? Anything at all?”

She paused and closed her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line. Finally, she looked at him, shook her head and said, “I can’t recall a thing. Not even a threat. I wish I could.”

“Okay. Tomorrow we’ll…” He broke off, grinning.

“What?”

Stressing the humorous aspect of his random thoughts, mostly for Paige’s sake, he admitted, “I was just making plans to take you to see a sketch artist. Then, I remembered that you are one.”

To his relief her smile returned. “That’s actually how I got my start with the Rangers. I can start drawing the man I saw in the bushes right away, so I won’t take any time away from work on the skull. If I hadn’t left my laptop at work I could use it, too.”

She pushed back her chair and got to her feet. “First I’ll make us both some strong coffee, then I’ll go dig out my artist’s materials.”

“I’ll make the coffee, if you want, as soon as I get my evidence kit out of the truck. I intend to have a good look around your yard and see what I can pick up before we notify the local sheriff.”

“And tell him what? That I was dumb enough to go outside and confront a prowler?”

“I wouldn’t put it quite that way.”

“Doesn’t matter. There’s more to this attack than just some lowlife hiding in my bushes.” Paige was scowling. “You see it, too. I know you do. Or you wouldn’t have asked me if the man made any specific threats.”

It was only fair to level with her. Cade nodded as he took a few steps toward the living room. “Yes. I think it’s likely that all the peculiar things that have been happening to you, and to me, are related to the Pike case. That’s the most logical theory. I hope I’m wrong.”

“I hope you are, too, but I’d had the same idea.” She managed a smile that he could tell was partly forced. “Hurry back, okay?”

“Will do. I think you’d better follow me to the front door and lock it after me so nobody can sneak in. I won’t be out there long.”

The smile she’d displayed before became softer, as if muted by new tenderness. “Max and I will miss you.”

“I’ll only be gone for a minute or two.”

The smile widened. Her eyes twinkled. “We’ll still miss you.” She reached for her dog and began to scratch behind its ears. “Won’t we, Max?”

The kitchen table became Paige’s drawing board, the Ranger hovering in the background, her catalyst. Taking information from another person and putting a suspect’s face on paper or inputting data into a computer program was a lot easier when she wasn’t the victim, she realized belatedly. Nothing about this sketch seemed quite right. She kept wanting to imbue the assailant’s face with the evil she’d sensed rather than sticking to his basic features.

Cade handed her a fresh mug of the coffee they’d been sharing. They were already on their second pot. She glanced up at him and lifted her eyebrows. “Do you live on that stuff?”

“I’ve been known to, especially when I have night duty.”

“Is that what this is? Are you on duty?”

“Might as well think of it that way,” he said amiably. “Just because I didn’t find any clues in the yard tonight doesn’t mean he won’t come back and try again.”

“I sure hope not.” She laid aside her drawing pencil. “I still don’t get it. Why me? I’m harmless.”

Pointing to the sketch she’d been laboring over, Cade said, “Not from where I stand. If I were a criminal, I sure wouldn’t want somebody with your talent and memory for faces drawing my picture.”

“Thanks.”

The notion of someday portraying Cade’s likeness struck her as a good one, although if and when she did decide to sketch him, she didn’t intend to let him know what she was up to. This Ranger’s portrait should be done the way she’d done Amy’s, she decided. With more than just features and color. It needed feeling. The sense of strength and uprightness she felt when she was with him. She didn’t intend to drape him in the Texas flag or add a superhero’s cape, but that was the overall impression she intended to convey.

“So, how much longer do you plan to keep working on that sketch?” Cade asked. He was leaning nonchalantly against the kitchen counter, his boots crossed at the ankles, as he took cautious sips from his own mug.

“I don’t know. Maybe all night, unless I can get it right before then. Why?”

“Because it seems sensible for at least one of us to grab some shuteye. Your couch looks pretty comfortable. Mind if I bunk there? I’m not wearing my spurs so it shouldn’t hurt a thing.” He held up one foot. “See?”

“Nothing except my reputation,” Paige countered.

“Suit yourself. One way or another, I’m staying.”