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Pulse quickening, she peered that direction in the murky light.
Two forms were visible through the branches. A gray-haired woman in casual attire, holding tight to what could be a purse, and another taller person, who was pulling on it.
A mugging?
At this hour?
As Lindsey tried to digest that, she groped for her pepper gel and started forward, nerve endings tingling. A confrontation with a mugger hadn’t been on her morning agenda, but—
She gasped as the attacker shoved the woman to the ground. Pulled out a knife. Raised it above his head and—
Lindsey stumbled. Slammed her eyelids shut as bile rose in her throat.
The woman had been stabbed!
Struggling to breathe, hands shaking, she opened her eyes and fumbled for her phone.
Dropped it.
Choking back a sob, she bent to pick it up, glancing toward the man as he raised his hand again.
“No! Stop!” The anguished plea was out before she thought through the ramifications.
The attacker swung toward her. Hesitated. Brought the knife down once more on the figure that now lay unmoving on the ground.
Then he pivoted and sprinted her direction.
Sweet mercy!
Heart thumping, Lindsey squeezed the cell and began to run away as fast as her shaky legs allowed. Cold air hurtled past, but the chill on her cheeks was nothing compared to the icy fear coursing through her veins.
Please, Lord, let me get out of this alive!
That desperate entreaty came from the depths of her soul as she risked a quick peek over her shoulder.
The person with the knife was gaining on her.
Blood pounding in her ears, she increased her speed, using every muscle she’d developed over a summer of rowing as she searched her surroundings for anyone who might be able to help.
But as usual on cold Sunday mornings, she had the park to herself.
Except for the person chasing her, who wasn’t likely to show any mercy to an innocent runner if they’d been willing to stab a defenseless older woman for her purse ... or whatever she’d been carrying.
So unless she outran the attacker, or a County park ranger happened to cruise through on a security patrol, she could very well end up a statistic.
Like the woman bleeding on the ground among the pine trees.
JACK TOOK THE TURNonto Lindsey’s street on two wheels, tires squealing.
Too fast. Too dangerous. Not his usual style.
Gripping the wheel, he eased back on the gas pedal as her condo came into sight, several local police cruisers parked in front.
There was no reason for haste. She was safe inside, surrounded by law enforcement officers and vehicles. He’d heard her voice. The panic constricting his windpipe was illogical.
But until he saw her and was able to make sense of the message she’d left him after calling 911, logic was elusive.
He parked behind one of the cruisers, strode toward her unit, and displayed his creds to the officer standing outside her door.
