Page 36 of Hawk and the Cougar

“I have. Now you talk to your boss.” She hung up.

Karen sat down in the chair across from Liz’s desk. “Are they going to pay?”

Liz leaned back in her chair. “Hard to say. The interest they’ll make by withholding payment is enough to induce even good old honest Abe Lincoln to give thought to holding out. What have you got?” She nodded toward the pink slips of paper in Karen’s hand while reaching for the quarterly production report she’d been poring over when Ben called.

“Two messages from Suzy Chang and one from Professor Hawkins,” Karen replied.

Liz’s head jerked up before she could halt the action.

Karen’s brows rose. “That must have been some night in the mountains.”

Liz’s heart raced. Why would he be calling when she was meeting him and Emma in two hours at the university? She blew out a breath she hoped said last night was an experience I don’t care to repeat, and said, “A person doesn’t get shot at every day.”

“No. And they don’t get stuck in the mountains with a man like Professor Hawkins every day, either. I saw his picture in the paper.” Karen waggled her eyebrows. “The man is drop-dead gorgeous.”

“It was life or death, Karen. Gorgeous had nothing to do with it. Not to mention the man’s twelve years younger than me.”

Karen’s gaze sharpened, and Liz realized her mistake when her assistant said, “You noticed that, did you?”

Liz shrugged. “It would be hard not to notice a man like him.” When in doubt, fall back on the truth. “But that doesn’t change the fact we were running for our lives.”

Karen’s expression sobered. “Hard to believe all this is over some land.”

“Land that’s worth enough money to make our dispute with GFW look like couch change.”

At least Hawk’s goal had been accomplished. Artifacts supporting his theories that the site was Paleo-Indian had been discovered on the north-east section of the land, butting up to and reaching into Reid’s land, which explained Reid’s desperation to get to Hawk. Liz glanced at the clock. Six-thirty. Injunctions would already have been filed to stop all building until experts were brought in to assess the find. Hawk would be one of those experts.

“I still can’t believe the police can’t arrest the guys who shot at you,” Karen said.

Liz had been just as surprised. But Hawk had known the police wouldn’t be able to connect Reid to the two men they identified—a fact that wasn’t going to stop Hawk from dealing with Reid, despite Liz’s attempts to dissuade him. According to him, the only good thing that had come out of their attack was the fact that, since the case was now high profile, Harry Jones—also known as The Beanstalk—and his partner Jack Phillips wouldn’t be able to get near Liz again.

That didn’t mean someone else wouldn’t try, which was why an unmarked police car sat outside and why Liz had agreed to work from home today. That and Hawk’s threat to follow her to the plant and stick by her side all day if she didn’t stay home. The question in Em’s eyes when Liz had explained what happened had been bad enough. She didn’t want to confirm her daughter’s suspicions by having her professor follow her mother around all day. Liz had to admit, working from home in jeans and a T-shirt was a welcome respite from dressing for work. She needed the break after the last couple days.

“You’ve got that call,” Karen said.

Liz nodded. “You go ahead and take off.”

“You sure?”

Liz nodded. “Yep.”

“Same place, same time tomorrow,” Karen asked.

Liz laughed. “Yeah. I think Emma would have a fit if I left the house just yet.” But it wasn’t Emma she was worried about.

Half an hour later, Liz flipped off the bedroom light and stepped into the hallway. A hulking figure stood at the far end, silhouetted against the soft light behind him in the foyer. Not The Beanstalk but a stranger inside her house. She whirled back into the room, slamming the door shut.

Liz turned the tiny lock then raced to the window on the far wall. She wound the handle and the window began to roll outward. A crash against the door caused her to jump. Her heart thudded. Where were the police? The door banged with the man’s weight against the wood. Liz fought panic. He’d be inside and upon her before she could open the window and climb outside. She released the window handle, grabbed the cordless from the nightstand, and jabbed nine-one-one.

One ring, then a voice said, “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”

“Someone—” The door creaked again and splintered.

Liz dropped the phone and grabbed the crystal lamp on the nightstand. She ripped the shade from the lamp and raced to the wall beside the door. Hands shaking, she raised the lamp as the door gave way beneath the gorilla’s weight.

He propelled two steps into the room, and she swung the lamp with all her strength. The thick crystal slammed into the side of his neck with a sickening crack. She swung the lamp again. His arm shot up, and he wrenched it from her grip. Iron fingers seized her wrist, and the back of his hand made hard contact against her cheek.

Her head jerked sideways, and pain shot through her cheek. He dragged her forward. She stumbled. The goon yanked her upright as they crossed from the bedroom into the hallway. Spots raced across her vision. Liz fought nausea and kicked his leg.