Chapter 19

Lucky her apartment door opened inward.

The two men inside had to stand a couple feet back as they swung the door open for the ambush.

Those feet would cost them the fight.

The front guy raised his gun, but Flash launched his whole body into him before he could fire, knocking him back.

The other thug scrambled to avoid being taken down with his buddy and rushed toward Jazz, lifting his Glock.

Jazz's knife had already left her hand. The blade pierced the guy's gun arm.

He dropped the Glock with a squeal and ducked through the doorway, skirting past Jazz.

"Flash, hier." She eyed the fleeing thug as he ran down the hallway. Flash would love a good sprint even more than she would.

Flash hurried to answer her call, his eyes filled with excitement as he looked up at her. Nothing like taking down the bad guys. "Flash, fass." She indicated the fleeing thug with her hand.

The K-9 tore up the hall, easily catching the thug and detaining him with teeth.

Movement out the corner of her eye caught her attention.

The man Flash had left on the floor of the apartment was getting up and stupidly reaching for his Glock a few feet away.

"Don't even think about it." She leveled her Sig at him.

Huh. Same guy she'd nailed with her knife outside the convenience store. Nice of Flash to have bitten his alternate arm instead of the shoulder she'd stabbed. And unless her memory was playing tricks on her, Flash's captive in the hallway was his partner from that night, too.

Now maybe she could get some answers. At least about who wanted her dead.

Keeping her gun trained on the guy who gave her a wide-eyed stare while holding his freshly wounded arm, Jazz pulled out her phone.

No sirens or people peeking out from the other apartments, so this fight must've been quiet enough not to wake the neighbors or prompt calls to the police. Looked like she'd have to bring them in herself to take the thugs off her hands.

She glanced at the time on her phone before dialing 911. Great. She still needed to find her old photos and take them to Uncle Pierce before she could possibly get ready for dinner.

But as she put the phone to her ear, she looked past the man on the floor and saw the rest of her apartment.

Her books were scattered all over the floor, her bookshelves broken, table upturned, sofa pillows tossed all over. Irritation flamed in her chest.

"Why in the world did you have to trash the place?" She glared at the thug on the floor. "Did you get bored waiting to kill me? Next time, I'll just give you my schedule. And if you damaged even one page of my Hawthorne Emerson boo—"

The 911 operator picked up, and Jazz filled her in on the situation—once the woman got over her shock that Jazz had a protection K-9 assist in the apprehension of the criminals.

But all the while, Jazz was scrambling to figure out what to do about dinner with Hawthorne. Thanks to the state of her apartment, it looked like she'd have to move the non-date to a restaurant. Hopefully a very romantic, date-like restaurant.

Sometimes this security business sure interfered with a girl's love life.

"Heard you're going to have dinner with my girl tonight."

Hawthorne paused under the Skyride cars overhead and turned toward the female voice behind him.

Nevaeh William's distinctive curly hair and the muscled rottweiler at her side made for a pair that was hard to miss as they walked his way.

He smiled. He could tell when he'd met her earlier that Nevaeh and Jazz must be good friends. Jazz had apparently told her about their plans. "That's right. She texted me a little while ago to switch it to a restaurant. She said her apartment's a mess, but I find that hard to believe. She seems very put together."

"Oh, it's a mess all right." Nevaeh stopped near Hawthorne.

"Really?" He couldn't tell from her peculiar tone if she was joking or holding back some secret.

"Yeah. She got a little…" the woman's big, dark eyes gleamed in the waning light of dusk, "surprised when she stopped by her apartment. She said a restaurant will be easier since she has to run some errands yet."

"Sounds perfect to me."

Nevaeh tilted her head slightly, her curls leaning to follow the motion as she stared at him. "Is this a date?"

Whoa. The woman didn't pull any punches. "Uh." He shifted away from some people who brushed past as he scrambled for the safest answer. An automatic no leaped to the tip of his tongue, but maybe that wasn't what Nevaeh wanted to hear. Still, he had to be honest. "No. I only want to find out more about Jazz."

"Right. For the heroine in your new book." Her lips held a line as disbelieving as her expression.

"Yes." He tried a smile. "Honest, that's really all it's about."

"You do this often?"

"Do what?"

"Feature real women in your books." One of her hands slid to her hip. "Take them to dinner and all that." The skepticism in her voice made his behavior sound akin to a serial killer setting up his next victim.

He lifted his hands, palms facing her. "Absolutely not. This is the first time I've ever met anyone I'd like to be the protagonist in a book. First time I've met anyone as impressive and amazing as Jazz."

"Hm." The short sound somehow escaped the woman's sealed lips. Her eyes stayed narrowed as she watched him.

At least Jazz had someone looking out for her. Hawthorne should include a character like that in his series. A close friend to have Jazz Lamont's back and be her confidant. Unless she'd be better off as a loner, having to face all her battles alone.

"Jazz said you switched shifts today to go to church." Nevaeh's unexpected statement jerked Hawthorne's attention from his mental plotting. "True?"

Wow, they must talk to each other a lot. And tell each other everything. "Yes."

"Why?"

"You mean, why did I go to church?"

"Sure." She held his gaze with a look that seemed to threaten some kind of consequence if he answered wrongly.

"Because I'm a Christian, and going to church to worship is a priority in my life."

Her eyes relaxed a fraction at the corners. "Good answer." Then she cracked a startling smile. "I'm a Christian, too."

"Oh. I'm glad to hear that." Did that mean Jazz was a believer? He hadn't expected that.

"Jazz isn't, though."

Too bad. Disappointment dropped into his stomach. She didn't have to be a Christian to be the model for his heroine. But it was sad for her that she didn't know the Lord. He should pray for her.

"Does that make a difference?" Nevaeh's smile gave way to a serious expression again.

"You mean in wanting to feature her in my books? No."

"I mean your interest in her."

"I'm not interested…romantically." For some frustrating reason, he tripped on the word. As if he didn't mean it or felt embarrassed about it.

Nevaeh's eyebrows lifted. Was she insulted or simply didn't believe him?

He kept going, hoping to convey sincerity and confidence. "Not that she isn't worthy of that, of course. I'm just not in the market for that kind of relationship with anyone. But if I were, she would be a great option."

He smothered a cringe. A great option? Not exactly a flattering thing to say about the woman's friend.

"Yeah. She's terrific. But you aren't sticking around here anyway, right? After the fair is over."

"Correct. I'm headed to Boise next."

"Boise?"

He nodded. "Thinking of setting a story there."

"Hey, security." A male voice drew their attention to a young guy hurrying toward them, darting around passing people. He wore a ride operator's yellow T-shirt. Looked like the operator Hawthorne had seen in the security footage of the east Skyride building. Which was near where Hawthorne and Nevaeh were standing.

"I found this by my control box in there." He thumbed toward the Skyride building as he held out a piece of paper with his other hand. "I thought I should probably turn it over to security."

Hawthorne glanced from the guy's tense features to the folded paper. He took it, opening the piece that was about half the size of a normal full sheet of paper.

His gaze fell on typed words.

The evil fair must be closed. Or more will die.

Hawthorne's gut clenched as he skimmed the rest of the page.

A familiar logo and words crossed the bottom. Best Life Community.

The police would definitely want to see this. Maybe Desmond Patch's ego had finally driven him far enough for him to be stopped.

Unless they were already too late. Another sabotage or murder could already be set in motion.