Call It Destiny

broken panes of the front window, unaware of her frozen state. Heather was chilled with fear. If she had seen someone moving past the other window and that someone was Joe she was probably already as good as dead. Drug deals such as the one Rick apparently had going tonight all too often left the bodies of witnesses and former „partners“ in their wake.
    And then quite suddenly a loud crash echoed through the room. It was followed by the sound of splintering glass and disorienting splashes of light and shadow as the battery-operated lamp went spinning to the floor to land behind the kitchen counter.
    Heather cried out as the dark form of a man came hurtling through the side window. In the shadows it was impossible to see his face. Rick spun around, clawing for the gun in his belt.
    Before he could get the weapon clear, the intruder had thrown himself against him. Both men fell to the wooden floor with a jolting thud.

8

    The glaring light of the battery lamp glowed bravely from its overturned position, but the only object in the room clearly illuminated by it was Heather’s stricken face. The far end of the room near the door was in almost total darkness as the two men on the floor fought savagely.
    It took an instant for Heather to break the bonds of her own shock and then she was galvanized into action. Whatever chance she was going to have was here and now. The man who had come in through the window in such a dramatic fashion must be the mysterious Joe. He’d probably arrived in such a manner in an effort to rid himself of a no longer useful partner, Heather decided.
    Dropping the bowl and the pan of soup she started to run for the door. Instinct made her hesitate, turn back and yank open one of the kitchen drawers she had searched earlier. She thought she had seen a flashlight inside.
    It was there, although heaven only knew if it had any working batteries in it. There was no time to experiment. Whirling again she dashed for the door.
    The fierce struggle on the floor spilled over into her path, forcing her to detour around the dark heaving shapes of the men. It seemed to her the battle was being fought in an unnatural silence.
    No cries or shouts or screams of protest or anger sounded in the small heavily shadowed room, only sickening thuds and blows and muffled gasps. Somehow the very lack of human yelling only served to emphasize the viciousness of the conflict.
    Heather frantically danced around the unpredictable flow of battle, dodging first a foot and then an arm that was flung into her path. Breathing heavily, her pulse pounding, she grabbed the door handle and yanked.
    Outside the rain was coming down as violently as the fight behind her was raging. The storm had turned into a nightmare of roaring water and darkness. Driving would be almost impossible now, even if she could get the Mercedes around the jeep that Rick had parked behind it.
    Fumbling with the flashlight, Heather was relieved to find it still produced a weak beam. It must have been a light that Rick had left behind during one of his periodic „business“ trips up to the cabin, she reasoned.
    She was standing on the porch poised for flight, trying to find the Mercedes keys in her pocket when, with muffled groans, the two men locked in savage combat burst through the doorway.
    Heather’s startled scream was broken off abruptly as she dashed out of the way. Her pale flashlight beam swung jaggedly across the two figures as they tumbled past her and down the short flight of steps into the mud. The driving rain pummeled both as they were seemingly half absorbed by the elements.
    It was as the beam of light darted haphazardly across a booted foot that Heather caught her breath. She recognized the low-cut desert boot even as it nearly tripped her.
    „Jake!“
    He didn’t answer, of course. He probably didn’t even hear her. Jake had his hands full from what Heather could see, as he tried to avoid being the one on the bottom while the two men struggled for supremacy in the mud.
    „Oh, my God, Jake!“
    He had come for her. He had gotten her message; understood that she needed him and he had returned to rescue her.
    That thought pounded through Heather’s head, nearly swamping the more practical considerations of the moment. The man she loved had returned to her side when she needed him.
    The mud at the bottom of the steps seemed to be absorbing some of the violence. The blows the two men delivered required more and more effort. They were