Night Hawk by Beverly Jenkins Page A

one way in and out.”
    â€œScared I might run off again?”
    He stood over her, arms folded, silent.
    â€œIt’s nice to know I’ve gained your respect, so let me lead the way. Wouldn’t want you to lose me on the walk down the hallway.”
    She swore he smiled, but as always it was gone so fast she wasn’t sure. When he stepped aside she led him out.
    A fter his inspection of the facilities, Ian walked back into the room and stood in front of the window. He couldn’t believe her sassiness. She was obviously unaware of his outstanding reputation or how legendary he was. To her he was merely someone she’d outwitted, which apparently earned her the right to crow. Maggie Freeman was neither mild nor meek, and the longer he was around her the more his curiosity about her rose. What kinds of things had she done since the death of her parents? How had she survived? Her singing last night still resonated. Who was she really?
    He heard a commotion out in the hallway. A man was yelling at someone heatedly. A female yelled right back. Realizing the voice belonged to Maggie, he hurried from the room.
    He stopped at the sight of her arguing nose to nose with a short Black man in a checkered suit. She was grabbed by her arm and before Ian could bellow challenge, the stranger hauled off and struck her across the face with the back of his hand. She went flying and Ian did, too.
    In the next breath he’d grabbed the little man by his fancy starched collar, raised him up, and slammed him against the wall so forcefully the plaster split. The man whimpered in shock, and his eyes widened to find himself within an eyelash of Ian’s glacial fury. “You okay, Maggie?”
    â€œNo. Damn that hurt.” She had her hand against her jaw as she struggled to her feet.
    Ian locked eyes with his prey, he growled, “Who is this?”
    She gingerly worked her jaw as if to make sure it was in one piece. “Carson Epps. Kill him, please.”
    â€œNo!” Epps cried out in terror.
    â€œBetter yet,” she added, eyes blazing, “just hold him there a moment.” Hand still cradling her jaw she walked over. “Can you move to your left, just a bit, Marshal?”
    Confusion on his face, Ian moved the lower portion of his body a step to the left but kept the squirming Epps pinned.
    Suddenly she pointed at the ceiling. “Oh my goodness! Look at that!”
    When both men looked to see, Maggie punched Epps hard in the groin. His mouth opened in a silent scream and his eyes bulged.
    Ian was so stunned and surprised, he turned Epps loose, not caring that the man slid to the floor, where he immediately curled up and began rolling back and forth. Studying the lightning in her eyes, Ian folded his arms and didn’t know what to make of her, or what to say. Instead he gently moved her hand aside so he could assess her injury. The jaw and eye were already swelling. “You need a steak.”
    Epps was rocking back and forth. He seemed to have regained his voice because he was moaning softly in rhythm with his writhing.
    By then, Wilma and some of her male patrons had come to investigate all the commotion.
    Utterly fascinated by the small woman before him, Ian glanced away for a moment. “The lady needs a steak for her eye.”
    Wilma surveyed Maggie, then took in the man rolling on the floor. “What happened to him?”
    Still contemplating the hellion that was Maggie Freeman, Ian replied uncaringly, “He fell. He’ll live. About that steak?”
    She appeared genuinely confused by the scene, but when Ian showed her another silver dollar, she snatched it from his fingers. “I’ll see to that steak.” Still eyeing Epps curiously, she hurried off, and the men followed.
    Ian finally tore his attention away from Maggie and walked over to where Epps lay on the floor still in the throes of distress. Ian hunkered down beside him and Epps let out a moan of