Aimee Thurlo - Winter Hawk's Legend

Daniel turned into the alley and parked his SUV in the rear lot of Simple Pleasures. The coffee shop—a former home—was off the street and had a big front porch with dining tables underneath for warmer weather and sunny days.

He pressed the key button remote to lock the car and wondered if he was early or late. When he was off the clock he preferred to go on Indian time, but he had a feeling that Holly was the kind of woman who appreciated promptness. It was certainly a plus in her type of business.

As Daniel strode down the narrow sidewalk toward the coffee shop’s rear entrance, he heard what sounded like a scream cut short. It had come from across the street, toward the front of the building. Instinctively he cut around the coffee shop and sprinted toward the sound.

Dimly illuminated by the streetlight were two people lying on the grass between the sidewalk and the street curb, fighting. Reaching into his jacket pocket as he ran, Daniel brought out a small flashlight and switched it on.

A guy wearing a blue bandanna over his face, like a cheap rustler from an old cowboy movie, had a cord wrapped around a woman’s neck. As the would-be killer turned his head to look, the glare of Daniel’s beam blinded him for a heartbeat.

The suspect instinctively threw his arm up to shield his eyes, revealing Holly’s face in the grass.

“Holly, roll!” he yelled, closing the gap between them.

Holly twisted away, breaking his grip. Her assailant immediately jumped to his feet and swung around, crouched and ready to counter Daniel’s expected tackle.

Daniel led instead with a flying kick, catching the man full force in the chest. The impact knocked his opponent off the grass and across the narrow sidewalk, slamming his back into the low stone wall that bordered the lawn of the residence behind him. Daniel glanced at Holly, who was now on her knees, coughing.

“I’m okay,” she croaked, gasping for air.

Daniel focused once again on his enemy, who’d risen to his feet and was now in a fighting stance, right leg and arm slightly forward—his strong side.

“Come on,” the man whispered harshly, motioning confidently with his gloves. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

His attacker clearly had some training, but Daniel knew the initiative belonged to him now. He assumed an attack position, hands up and open, ready to advance or kick, or block with his forearms. The guy was bigger than he was, but that had never been much of a problem.

The man advanced, throwing a left jab to set up a right. Daniel slipped to the side, countering with a left punch to the man’s ribs as the incoming jab barely brushed his cheek. The man gasped and rocked back, stunned by the blow.

Suddenly they were both illuminated by the headlights of an approaching car. The glare caught Daniel by surprise and he was forced to step back, arms up. Yet no blow came—his attacker knew it was time to run.

Holly’s assailant shot down the sidewalk, leaped the low retaining wall, then raced across a front lawn toward a side street.

“I’m going after him. Stay here,” Daniel said, leaping over the low wall.

Confident he could keep the man in sight and eventually catch up to him, Daniel raced across the grass. As he started to narrow the gap, the man faked left toward the street, then cut right, heading down the side of the house toward a three-foot-high wall that enclosed the backyard. He jumped it cleanly, never breaking his stride.

Daniel followed seconds behind, but lost a step as he hurdled the wall and nearly collided with an outdoor grill. By then, his opponent was already nearing the opposite wall. Again, the man, wearing some kind of jogging sweats, hurdled the wall like a track star and actually gained ground.

Daniel reached the wall four seconds later and leaped over, only vaguely aware of the sound of a television program somewhere to his right.

As soon as he cleared the wall, he saw the back of the running man dodging some barren rosebushes as he sprinted toward another low wall on the far side of the next property.

Daniel knew he was gaining ground, but, focusing on his target, he nearly crashed into a rose trellis. He swerved at the last second, barely missing the plant. When he looked up, all he could see was the upper half of his target, fading away in the dark. The guy was a natural hurdler and soon went over the cinder block wall like an equestrian—minus the horse.

“Damn!” Daniel heard a female voice say from somewhere behind him and recognized Holly’s voice. She’d followed. Why the hell were women so difficult? They always seemed to do the opposite of what a man expected.

He pushed back the distraction. At least she’d recovered quickly enough to race after them, so he didn’t need to worry about her right now. He kept his gaze forward, and this time leaped just high enough to touch the wall with his right foot as he went over. It was easier now that he had his rhythm back, but he wasn’t gaining enough to bring down the suspect.

The next yard had the back porch light on, and he could see his target clearly. Almost as if sensing that he wouldn’t be able to outrun Daniel for long, the guy veered to his right, slipping on the cold grass and almost falling flat. Recovering quickly, he ducked around the side of the house toward the street and disappeared.

Daniel slowed down, suspecting a corner ambush, then caught a flash of something moving to his left, low to the ground. Spinning around, he saw a huge dog—or at least two rows of gleaming white teeth against a dark shape.

As the dog growled, Daniel jumped up onto the three foot wall. Forced to watch his feet, he ran along the narrow top. As soon as he reached the yard’s wooden gate, he jumped high over the top, praying he wasn’t leaping blind onto a stack of firewood.

Luck was with him. Daniel landed with a crunch on light gravel just as the dog slammed into the other side of the gate with an awesome thud.

Daniel glanced around quickly, but the driveway before him was empty. Then he heard the sound of squealing tires. As he turned his head back toward the boulevard, he saw taillights racing away. He’d lost him. It was over—for now.

He was walking back up the street in the direction of the coffee shop when he heard footsteps approaching to his right. “He’s getting away,” Holly called out, running across the lawn toward him. “I tried to catch up, but those danged walls kept slowing me down.”

“I thought I told you to stay put.”

Holly bristled. “And do what? Stand there gagging in the dark, hoping he wouldn’t circle the block and come back for round two? I felt safer chasing him.”

“Did you get the license plate, by any chance?”

“No, did you?” she answered.

He shook his head, dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed the police.

LESS THAN THREE minutes later, an officer drove up. The attractive blond officer recognized Daniel and smiled at him as she took out a small notebook. “You stirring up trouble on my beat again, Hawk?”

He gave her a grim smile. “It’s good to see you, Penny,” he said, then updated her, giving as much of a description as possible of their attacker.

“That’s not much to go on. He’s going to be changing his clothes right away, and his approximate height and build aren’t going to give us much of a lead.” Still taking notes, she glanced at Holly. “Did he speak to you at all, Ms. Gates?”

Holly shook her head. “No, he never said a word, Officer White,” she said, noting the officer’s name tag. “Somehow that made it even worse. He wanted me dead, but he had nothing to say to me?” Her voice broke at the last word and she swallowed hard.

“Have you had problems with anyone lately, an old boyfriend, maybe, or an ex-husband? A neighbor?”