Trial By Fury

The park seemed a lonely, desolate place for a new widow. The idea of suicide fleetingly crossed my mind. I wondered if Joa

Wearing a huge sweater, she stood on the rock breakwater, profiled against the gray of both the fog and water behind her. A light breeze blowing off the lake pressed the sweater's soft material around the bulge in her middle, accentuating her pregnant figure. Unaware of my approach, she peered down from her perch at something in the water below her, something I couldn't see. When I finally got close enough to look below the breakwater, I found she was watching a flock of hungry ducks out bumming for handouts.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked.

Without warning, she whirled and sprang at me, clenching both fists as she did so. She moved so fast I was surprised she didn't lose her footing on the slippery, wet grass. Just in time I realized she was bringing a haymaker up from her knees, putting the full force of her body behind it. If she had landed that blow, it would have sent me flying.

My reflexes may not be what they used to be, but they were still good enough to save my bacon. I dodged back, away from her doubled fist, which whizzed past my face within an inch of my nose. She came scrambling after me, her face a mask of hard, cold fury.

I had seen a similar version of that look once, that night in the Dog House after we left the medical examiner's office. That look was mild compared to this. Right then, Joa

"It's about time you got here, you son of a bitch!"

I had expected our encounter to begin on a somewhat more cordial note. After all, I wasn't even late. I stepped back again, just to be on the safe side, staying well out of reach.

"What the hell's going on, Joa

Her right hand shot toward the pocket of the voluminous sweater. My first thought was that she was going for a gun.

Once burned, twice shy. The last time I got burned by a lady with a gun, I came within inches of checking out for good.

With adrenaline pumping from every pore, I bounded forward and grabbed her wrists, pi

She was still pulling against me with all her might when I let go of her wrists. She fell away from me toward the breakwater and would have fallen backward into the lake if I hadn't caught her. We fell to the ground together in a tumbled heap.

The fall knocked the wind out of her. For a moment she was silent, her dark eyes staring up at me in mute rage. When she caught her breath, she screamed. "Get away from me, you bastard. Get away!"

"Are you all right? Are you hurt?" I tried to break through her anger, but she didn't hear me. She kept right on screaming.

Suddenly, I was lifted off the ground. Someone grabbed me by the back of my shirt the way a mother dog grabs a puppy to carry it. Except puppies don't wear ties with knots that block their windpipes. I dangled in midair, coughing and choking.

From behind me, I heard someone say, "Hey, lady. This guy botherin' you?"

Joa

"I'm a police officer," I sputtered. I reached for my ID, but my pocket was empty. The leather case had evidently fallen out in the course of the struggle.

"Yeah, and I'm Sylvester Stallone," he returned. Joa

I crawled around on my hands and knees in the grass, searching for my ID. Finally, I located it, resting against a rock, just below where Joa

I tried to show him my ID, but he brushed me aside. "Get away from her before I call the cops."

"Goddamn it, I am a cop. Detective J. P. Beaumont, Seattle P.D. Homicide."

"No shit? Since when do cops go around beating up pregnant ladies in parks?"

I wouldn't have convinced him, not in a million years, but right then Joa

The man bent down and looked her full in the face. "You sure, now? I can throw his ass in the water if you want. You say the word and I'll drown this sucker."

"No. Really. It's all right."

He stepped away then, reluctantly, looking from one of us to the other as if trying to figure out what was really going on. "Okay, then, if you say so." Without another word, he turned on his heel and jogged away from us, ru

Warily, I approached Joa

Once again, she reached into the pocket. When her hand emerged, she was holding the newspaper. She was under control now, but her eyes still struck sparks of fury as she slapped the newspaper into my outstretched hand.

"I thought you said you'd keep it quiet."

"Keep what quiet?"

"About what happened. I thought I could trust you, but you took it straight to the newspaper."

"Joa

"The picture."

"My God, is the picture in here?" Dismayed, I unrolled the newspaper.

"It just as well could be," Joa

I sca

"Sex Plus Race Equals Murder."

I sca

I took Joa

"Where are you going?" she asked as she half-trotted to keep up with me.

"To find Maxwell Cole," I told her. "If I don't kill him first, you can have a crack at him."