Sweet Fortune

shoulder. “Alex, are you in there? Is everything all right?”
    A low groan from off to the right inside the hall was the only answer.
    “ Alex .” Jessie panicked now, shoving furiously at Hatch. “Get out of my way, Hatch. He's hurt.”
    “Damn.” Hatch moved slowly into the darkened interior as his eyes adjusted to the deep gloom. “I should have gone back for the flashlight.”
    “There's a light switch just inside his office door. I'll get it.”
    Quick as a cat, she darted around him the instant he ceased blocking the doorway. “Jessie, come back here.”
    But she was already racing for the door of the office, which was just barely visible in the shadows. A flash of anger and alarm galvanized Hatch. Jessie was not just impulsive, she clearly lacked even an iota of common sense.
    He moved forward to jerk her back, but he did not have to bother halting her mad dash for the dark office. Before he could grab her, she gasped, yelped, and promptly tripped over a man's prone form lying in the middle of the hall.
    “ Alex .”
    The man on the floor groaned again and struggled to sit up. “Jessie? Is that you?”
    Hatch watched as Jessie crouched beside Alex. Then he frowned as he tried to discern the outlines of whatever was housed in the darkness of the office beyond the doorway. There was no sound from within the room, but the hair on the back of his neck was stirring.
    “Dear heaven.” Jessie was fussing over the figure on the floor. “What on earth happened? Alex, you mustn't move until we see how badly you're injured.”
    “I'm okay, I think. Just got banged on the head. Didn't completely lose consciousness. Hurts like hell, though. Who did you bring with you?”
    “The name's Hatchard.” The sense of uneasiness grew. Restlessly Hatch stepped around Alex's feet and moved into the doorway of the office.
    “The light switch is on the right,” Jessie said.
    The rush of thudding footsteps, however, came from the left. A body hurtled forward toward the door. Hatch had a fleeting impression of a slight, wiry form covered from head to toe in black. Something metallic glinted in the upraised fist.
    “Shit.” It had been years since Hatch had last confronted a man who was wielding a knife. He still remembered the occasion with great clarity. The memorable event had taken place, as such events often do, in the alley behind a tavern that catered to truckers and cowboys.
    He'd thought those days of barroom brawls and dirty alley fights were behind him. Hell, he was supposed to be white-collar now, he reminded himself. He had the silk ties and handmade shirts to prove it.
    After all the years that had passed since his last brawl, Hatch was vaguely surprised to find that his reactions were automatic. He feinted to the side and lashed out with his foot, catching his assailant on the leg as he went past. The blow was off-center but it was powerful enough to destroy the man's balance.
    The knife glinted evilly as the attacker whipped around, struggling to regain his feet.
    “Outta my way, you fucking bastard.” The voice was high-pitched and raw with desperation. It was also muffled by the black cloth of a stocking mask. “Get outta my way. I'll cut your fucking throat for you .”
    “Oh, my God, Hatch .” Jessie's horrified shriek filled the darkness.
    Hatch followed up on the small advantage he had created by getting his attacker off-balance. He snapped out another kick and slashed at the knife arm with the edge of his hand. The blade fell from numbed gloved fingers and clattered to the floor.
    There was a sharp, shrill gasp and another vicious curse. Then the assailant turned and fled through the hall, nearly colliding with Jessie. The running man leapt over Alex's prone form and vanished out the door into the night.
    “Hatch, are you all right?”
    “I'm okay, Jessie.” A primitive surge of anger flared in Hatch as he realized his quarry was escaping. He ran out into the hall and got as far as the outer door before he realized it was hopeless.
    Frustrated, he stood on the front step of the building, restlessly searching the shadows of the dark street. There was no sign of anyone, no sound of running footsteps. Nothing.
    The light in Alex's office snapped on behind Hatch. Reluctantly he turned to see that Jessie was on her feet, staring at him with eyes made huge by concern.
    “Are you sure you're all right?”
    “Yes.”
    “There's a knife in here.”
    “He didn't get a chance to use it. I'm