of his police car. The sedan smacked the bumper, sending James to his knees and upsetting his aim before the driver put the vehicle into Drive and shot away down the road. James scrambled off of his cruiser, Hawk barking madly in the backseat.
The deliveryman sat on the sidewalk, dazed. James longed to continue the chase, but he could not leave the man there without help. He radioed his position and ran to the victim.
The deliveryman stood on his own, brushing debris from his hair. “What in the world just happened?”
James did a quick medical assessment, and the man assured him he was uninjured. He got back behind the wheel, hastily checked on Hawk and drove a few hundred yards but realized he’d lost the guy. His radio chattered.
Not just a break-in at the salon. Someone had been attacked. Frances, the quiet single-mom shop owner? He fought the sick feeling in his gut as he wrenched the car around and hurtled to the salon. He was the first officer to arrive on scene. He hastily secured Hawk to a pole outside, shaded by a crooked awning. “Sorry, Hawk, but you’re not suited for this type of situation, Gotta secure things first.” Hand on his gun, he raced to the back door, which stood ajar.
Listening, he picked up on soft crying. That made him move even faster, pushing through the back hallway and emerging against a rack of hanging dresses. Frances knelt on the floor, tears streaming down her face.
Frances gasped. “I think she’s dead.”
A woman lay on the floor, facedown, spectacular red hair fanned out around her, in a puddle of blood. His heart thunked as he recognized Madison Coles.
Nerves pounding, he radioed for an ambulance and was alerted that one was already on the way, dispatched from the neighboring county. As gently as he could manage, he lifted the hair away from her cheek and slid his fingers along her neck to check for a pulse. The gentle flicker of a heartbeat sent a wave of relief through him. Not daring to move her, he stayed there, monitoring her pulse, waiting for help to arrive.
“She’s alive,” he told Frances. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. She knocked on the front door, but I told her we were closed. I must have left the back door unlocked. When I went to look for some invoices in the back, she was lying here, like that.”
James saw a small but solid plaster bust that must have been used to display bridal headpieces lying on the floor next to Madison. Blood stained the bottom edge. It would make a lousy scent article for Hawk, he thought automatically, since it had no doubt been handled by multiple people.
“So you didn’t see the attacker?”
She shook her head.
He put a hand on Madison’s back to reassure himself that she was still breathing. Fury boiled in his blood. Who would do this? “Did you hear anything? Voices? Talking? A car outside?”
“No,” Frances said. “Nothing.”
He pressed for more detail, but she was unable to provide anything. She was probably in shock. “Was there anything stolen?”
“No. The cash register was untouched.”
“And you didn’t notice anyone come in? What were you doing?”
“Paying some bills in the office.”
“What about noise? You must have heard the back door open.”
“I was playing music.”
He heard no music. Surely she would have seen something. But why would she lie? No, it had to be the shock. He did his best to make Madison comfortable until sirens announced the arrival of more cops.
He heard a soft moan and bent close, mouth to her ear. “It’s okay. We’re getting you to a hospital.” He brushed aside the silky hair that had fallen over her cheek, amazed at the heavy weight of it. Her skin was fair, like porcelain, slightly freckled, her lashes the same rusty hue as her hair. She moved a hand as if to brace herself on the tiled floor. Her slender wrist seemed impossibly fragile.
“Stay still,” he said.
“He...” she whispered, then stopped.
“Who was it? Did you see him?”
Her lips moved again, but no sound came out. He did not want to press as her face was deadly pale. Lord, keep her breathing. Such a violent blow might easily have caused irreparable damage or death. “Stay with me, Madison. Okay? You’re going to make it through this.”
The cops barreled in: Bucks and Shane Weston, his friend and roommate in the condo they shared with other K-9 officers.
Shane had left his German shepherd, Bella, outside with Hawk until he could assess the situation. The more bodies nosing around the crime scene, the harder to read the evidence. James brought them up to speed. When, at long last, the county ambulance arrived, James stood back to let the paramedics work. They stabilized Madison’s spine and checked her vitals as they loaded her onto a stretcher. Her small frame was swallowed up by the contraption. When they wheeled her to the ambulance, he walked alongside.
She opened her eyes, flicking a frightened glance at him, like the baby owl that had fallen out of the nest years ago on his family ranch. Lost, confused, a fallen creature meant to fly. His gut clenched.
“We’re getting you to the hospital. You’re going to be okay.” He could not resist cupping her hand in his.
Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something. He drew close, noting the glimmer of tears on her lashes. “I’m sorry this happened,” he whispered. “We’ll find whoever did this. I promise.”
He had the mad desire to wipe away the single tear that trickled along her cheek, losing itself in her tangle of hair. Instead he gave her hand a gentle squeeze just before they lifted her into the back. Her long fingers were fragile and cold. Then the doors closed and the ambulance rolled away.
Red-hot anger poured through him. Who had done this? In his town?
The thought surprised him. Desert Valley was a place he’d been temporarily assigned, a town he had no intention of staying in, and he’d met this woman only a few hours before.
“You were running down a black sedan?” Shane asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Yeah,” James tried to snap back into objective cop mode. “The guy who did this, I’m thinking.”
Shane nodded, scrubbing a hand through his close-cropped black hair. “Whitney’s on it.”
James felt a flicker of relief. Officer Whitney Godwin was sharp and determined. He had new admiration for the young mother since she recently cracked a drug ring.
“Did you get a look at him?” Shane asked. Bella was alert, sharp eyes watching the ambulance as it headed with Madison to Canyon County Medical Center twenty miles west of town. A severe head injury would be beyond what the local clinic could handle. James put it out of his mind.
“No, didn’t see the guy’s face.”
Shane thrust his chin toward the bridal-shop owner, who was also being checked by the medics. “Frances give you a description?”
