LITMIR.BIZ

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if she’d stayed put. Not exactly the obedient type. Pushing open the door, he saw a big guy leaning over her, her hands batting weakly at the pillow he held over her face and then falling limp on the sheet.

      With a roar, James leaped on the guy. They went down, taking a nearby pitcher of water with them. The man was big, maybe fifty, bald headed and muscular with skin whiter than any desert resident had a right to. The guy surged to his feet, throwing James back a pace.

      James tried to get a read on Madison, but the stranger was diving for the door now. James reached for his gun, but before he got it clear of the holster, his opponent tossed a rolling table at him. James threw up a hand to deflect it, sending it crashing into the end of the bed.

      There was still no movement from Madison. Had he been too late?

      The guy barreled through the door, and James heard a shout as he must have run into someone. Maybe it had slowed him down enough. James got on his radio and alerted Shane with a description as he raced to the doorway. “Heading west toward the stairwell. Stop him.”

      “Copy that,” Shane said. James heard the chatter of radio traffic as he turned his attention to Madison.

      What he would have given to be able to run the stranger down, but he didn’t dare delay. Fear thickened his throat as he ran back to Madison and shoved the pillow aside. He patted her cheeks. “Madison, wake up.”

      She did not make a sound; her eyes were closed. Her pale skin might have been carved of pure marble. He yelled for a nurse and tried to find a pulse in her wrist, but there was so much adrenaline firing through his veins, he was not sure whether he was feeling his own hammering pulse or her heartbeat. Was she breathing? “Come on,” he said, giving her a shake. “You’re gonna wake up, do you hear me?”

      Suddenly she gasped for breath and came to, pounding her fists at him.

      “Get off me,” she screamed in between violent coughs. “Get away.”

      “It’s me,” he said, clutching her forearms, thrilled to know she was well enough to take a whack at him. “It’s James. Madison, look at me.”

      Her wide-open eyes were wild for another moment. Slowly she began to focus, coughing hard and sucking in huge lungfuls of air.

      “It’s me,” he repeated. “The guy is gone.”

      She blinked. “He tried to kill me for the second time today.”

      He held on, thinking she might burst into hysterical tears. What should he do in that case? Hold her comfortingly? Restrain her? Get a nurse who knew what to do? He figured it might be similar to dealing with a spooked horse: hold on and keep calm. He squeezed her forearms, letting her know he was still there and she was safe.

      Instead of hysteria, something that looked a lot like red-hot anger flooded across her face, staining her cheeks pink. She wrenched out of his reach, picked up the pillow and hurled it him. “This is not acceptable,” she hollered.

      He couldn’t help it. He smiled, profound relief pulsing through him. “I completely agree, ma’am.”

      “Then why don’t you do something? This is your town, isn’t it? What’s the matter with the police here?”

      The nurse ran in, looking from Madison to James and back again as Madison continued yelling in between coughs.

      “I think she’s okay,” James said, “but you’d better check her over. She was nearly smothered a few minutes ago.”

      “And that’s completely unacceptable,” Madison snapped. “Why don’t you arrest the bad guys before they try to smother people? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Isn’t that why you have a badge?”

      The nurse raised an amused eyebrow. “Seems as though Ms. Coles is going to be fine.”

      He smiled, stepping out into the hallway before the pillow hit the door. Shane got him on the radio.

      “We lost him. Bucks saw him exit the building and run into the woods.”

      “I’ll get Hawk on it. Send Marlton to watch Madison’s room in case this guy’s got a partner.”

      He retrieved the pillow the guy had used to try to smother Madison and raced to the lobby for Hawk. As they headed for the woods, he knew Madison was right. The crimes were popping up in Desert Valley like groundhogs. Now the bridal-salon attacker on the loose was attempting to strangle a woman in a busy hospital? He clipped the leash to Hawk’s collar and let him get a good scent from the pillow.

      “Find,” he said. Hawk took off, jerking James along with him, Shane and Bucks following.

      Madison’s words echoed back at him.

      “Why don’t you arrest the bad guys...?”

      This time, he thought, he would. They careened through the underbrush. James slapped branches out of his way. He knew his partners were right behind him, but he was too busy protecting his face to take note of their exact location. Fury rose hot inside his chest along with the adrenaline. The tension on the long leash increased as Hawk surged forward. They were close now. The screen of bushes was so thick, he had to watch his step to avoid tripping. Hawk had no such problem. The dog was a canine bulldozer, plowing his way along, stopping every few moments to redirect. When he quivered in a way that meant, I’ve got it, James’s body went rigid, nerves electrified. The guy was close. Very close.

      With a jubilant yank, Hawk surged toward a gap between two enormous pine trunks. James used all his strength to pull the dog to a halt. There was no use giving Hawk a verbal command. When he was on a hunt, that was all he could focus on.

      James hauled on the leash and stopped the dog, drawing his weapon. Hawk barked and bayed at being thwarted. Shane and Bucks took positions on either side of him.

      “Police! Hands up,” James shouted.

      No answer but Hawk’s incessant barking.

      He slowly counted to three and rushed into the clearing just past the trees. A motorbike roared to life and their mark made his escape, blazing through the forest. There was no opportunity to get off a shot with so many trees in the way. James ran after the vehicle and was quickly outpaced. Hawk could probably track the motorbike, but there was no use as James heard it roar up to the main road. The scent would be lost quickly because the day was hot with little breeze. He felt like letting out his frustration in a roar louder than Hawk’s howling. Biting back the rage, he released Hawk to continue his sniffing, which led the dog to a damp baseball cap lying on the carpet of leaves.

      Hawk was about to scoop up his prize when James stopped him. “Leave it, Hawk. That’s evidence. Sorry.”

      Bucks stepped up and took a picture, snared the hat with a pen. He was sweating, red-faced. He told Hawk, “Almost got him, boy. Next time.”

      James fumed. Almost didn’t cut it. By this time, Chief Jones had arrived, and they briefed him. At seventy years old, Earl Jones was an imposing man with a large gut and a thick head of gray hair. His expression was fixed in the bland smile he always wore. The chief tended to cultivate that smile while he avoided conflict with his staff, particularly with his stepson, Ken Bucks. He got out an evidence bag and they secured the baseball cap.

      “It’s the same guy from the bridal salon,” James said. “He wants Madison Coles dead.”

      “Why?” Jones asked. “She’s a stranger in town.”

      “Maybe he thinks she can ID him from the attack at the salon.”

      “Why attack her in the first place?” Shane mused. At the edge of the clearing, Bella barked, eager to join in. “Place had no cash. Robbery wasn’t the motive.”

      “Someone who doesn’t like reporters? Plenty of people got it in for reporters.” Jones’s tone was light, but James wondered if it was a dig at him.

      “Until we investigate,” James said, “she’s not safe here.”

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