Winter Hawk's Legend. Aimee Thurlo

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Название Winter Hawk's Legend
Автор произведения Aimee Thurlo
Жанр Ужасы и Мистика
Серия Mills & Boon Intrigue
Издательство Ужасы и Мистика
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472036445



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lead for you,” Daniel said, then told her about the incident with Keeswood earlier that day.

      “Clyde Keeswood’s basically a loudmouth,” Holly said, shaking her head. “He wants attention and makes noise to get it, but he’s not really violent. He knew I’d see the chair coming and dodge. Had he really meant to hurt me, he would have rushed the podium.”

      “It’s still possible that tonight’s incident was in retaliation for what happened earlier,” the officer said, placing her notebook back into her pocket. “We’ll talk to Mr. Keeswood and get in touch with you if we need to do a follow-up. In the meantime, you might want to avoid going for walks alone at night,” she said. Giving Daniel a quick nod and smile, Officer White got into her patrol car and drove off.

      “Why don’t we go have something to eat and try to sort this out? Are you up to it?” he asked, noticing how she had her arms folded, almost as if hugging herself.

      She nodded, then walked with him up the street. “Do you really think this had something to do with my work for the tribe?”

      “What happened tonight could have a dozen explanations, including a stalker, but let it go for now,” he said, his voice steady. “Once you eat something and have a little time to relax, you may find that you’re able to remember more, little details you might have blocked out because you were too busy staying alive.”

      “All right. I’ll try. I want this man caught and put behind bars. He’s…crazy.”

      “Maybe,” Daniel muttered under his breath as he walked beside her down the sidewalk.

      DANIEL ORDERED a green chile cheeseburger with the works. She decided on a grilled cheese sandwich. She wasn’t at all hungry and her throat was a little sore, but from the looks of it, Daniel had worked up quite an appetite after tonight’s run.

      Holly picked at her sandwich and sipped the warm, soothing chamomile-and-peppermint-flavored tea, one of her favorites. Logic told her that it was over and she had nothing else to fear, but she still couldn’t quite make herself relax.

      “You saved my life tonight and I haven’t even thanked you yet,” she said, warming her hands on the ceramic mug she was holding.

      He smiled. “It’s not necessary, but I’d like you to answer one question for me. You were unarmed, yet you still raced after the man who tried to strangle you. What were you planning to do if you caught him?”

      “I can’t fight, but I might have been able to distract him while you did the rough stuff,” she said, then paused before continuing, “There are many ways to win a fight, Daniel. Sometimes it’s a matter of buying someone else a few seconds to act.”

      “You’re right,” he said. “Diversions can be crucial in some situations.”

      “Earlier today, you offered to give me some pointers on how to spot trouble. I’m ready to listen. The guy walked right up to me and I never thought a thing about it until he grabbed me by the shoulders. By then it was too late.”

      He nodded. “All right. For starters, when you’re giving a talk, watch individuals, not just the overall group. Look for behavior that doesn’t fit in with the others present. Search for small telltale signs, not just confrontational stares. For example, people who are lying or have an agenda tend to touch their face a lot. If you’re close enough, watch for downward gazes, too, or looking off to the right. Attitude and posturing are the keys. Guys looking for trouble often telegraph their intentions,” he said. “The single most important thing is this—if you think there’s going to be trouble, get backup fast.”

      “No problem there. I’m not a fighter by nature,” she said quietly.

      “You’re still scared, aren’t you?” he asked softly. “You don’t have to be. He’s gone. He got a lot more than he bargained for tonight.”

      “Yes, but will he come back and try again? Not knowing is the worst part of this.” She wished she could have said something tough and brave sounding instead, but the truth was that she was terrified. “I wish you’d have just brought out your gun and held him until the police came, instead of fighting him face-to-face.”

      “It’s locked up in my SUV. I rarely carry it off the job. Besides, I never draw my weapon unless I’m going to use it and that wasn’t an option tonight. I never had a clear line of fire.” He took a deep breath. “Guns aren’t always the best solution, either. A show of deadly force often provokes a lethal response from your opponent, and stray bullets don’t discriminate. When I draw my weapon, it’s because I have no other choice, and the person who forced that response is likely to end up dead.”

      The total lack of emotion in his voice chilled her to the bone. Yet the way his hand had curled into a hard fist revealed another story. Beyond his acceptance of the inevitability of violence was an acute awareness of the cost it exacted.

      “My job is very different from yours,” she said with a soft sigh. “It’s about logic, and reason, and the ability to communicate effectively. The incident with the chair this morning isn’t the norm at all. Mind you, cranks and protesters will shout all kinds of things, but until today, I’ve never had that escalate into an actual physical attack.”

      “The problem is that the Diné have been lied to for centuries, and the tribe is still paying the price for believing outsiders—illnesses and death from unsafe mining operations, contaminated water and ground poisoned by uranium.”

      “But this is the tribe’s own process. No one’s lying to anyone.”

      “You see tribal government working on behalf of its people, but Diné activists see Anglo corporations coming to talk to our leaders and selling them a bill of goods. You’re going to keep having problems,” Daniel said. “The protesters are going on the offensive, so you need to stay alert whenever you’re in public.”

      “And know when to duck?”

      He chuckled. “Yeah, that, too.”

      As they talked, Holly found herself relaxing and enjoying Daniel’s company. After they finished dessert, she once again tried to review the details of what had happened earlier. Though she worked hard to look at the events objectively, no new answers came to her.

      “What happened to me tonight…it must have been random. In my business I don’t make these types of enemies. I’m a spokesperson, that’s all, not someone who implements policy. The man who came at me must have had his own agenda.”

      “You might be right,” he said, but his tone said he was unconvinced.

      “It’s getting late,” she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I don’t want to walk back home alone. Would you give me a ride?”

      “Be glad to.”

      They left the coffee shop and rode back in his SUV. The interior was spotless and smelled of leather and lime aftershave. She sat back, glad for the company, particularly now. There was something very reassuring about Daniel’s presence.

      When they pulled up in front of her home a short time later, she saw him studying her front porch, watching the white swing that swayed gently in the cool breeze.

      “I’d invite you in, but I need to try and get some sleep. I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow,” she said.

      “My guess is that you still have too much adrenaline pumping through your system. I know—I’ve been there. What’s your way of relaxing? Music, exercise or something else?”

      It was the way he’d emphasized those last two words that immediately sparked her imagination. She could have sworn she’d heard a very tempting invitation there.

      Holly pushed the thought aside. She wasn’t thinking clearly, that’s all. The man had asked her a simple question.

      “I’m going to go inside, put on my fuzzy slippers and break open the box of chocolate truffles I’ve been saving for my next celebration.”