ONE

      Hawk Jacobson parked his SUV and moved silently through the dark, cold December night, automatically raking his gaze over the area searching for a possible threat. As a private investigator, he didn’t have set hours, and tonight he was returning home later than usual.

      After entering his house, he didn’t bother turning his lights on as he made his way through the interior. Hawk paused near the side window, the one overlooking Jillian’s home. Dark windows outlined by bright Christmas lights indicated his neighbor, Jillian Wade, and her young daughter, Lizzy, had retired for the night.

      Just as he was about to step back from the window, he saw two men, dressed in black from head to toe, ski masks covering their faces and guns held at the ready in their hands, moving silently through the night and heading straight for Jillian’s house. No! Hawk sprang into action. Armed with a knife and a gun, yet hoping not to use either, he silently let himself out of his house. Picking the second man who was still standing on the driveway as his target, he stealthily approached from behind. With surprise on his side, he took him down, hitting him in the back of the head and rendering him unconscious. With one hostile out of commission, he went searching for the other.

      The front door of Jillian’s house was ajar, and he hated knowing the guy had breached her personal space. Years of military training enabled Hawk to move silently down the hall. The gunman was hovering between the two bedroom doorways, as if unsure which one to try first. Indecision was his enemy. Hawk grabbed him from behind, covered the guy’s mouth and took him roughly to the ground and held his gun at his temple.

      “Who sent you?” Hawk asked in a harsh whisper. “Why are you here?”

      The man’s eyes, which Hawk could see from the round openings of the ski mask, showed no emotion. The hostile didn’t make a sound, apparently too well-trained to talk. Hawk was about to knock the guy unconscious when a slight movement caught his eye. The door to the second bedroom was open a crack and he saw Lizzy’s frightened face peering out at him.

      He froze, wishing more than anything that the little girl didn’t look so terrified. Was she afraid of the gun? Probably, but he couldn’t risk hiding it from her. “It’s okay,” he called softly. “It’s me. Hawk.”

      She quickly closed the door. With a frustrated sigh, Hawk pressed on the man’s twin carotid arteries to put him to sleep, making sure he was unconscious but not dead. He took a moment to lift the ski mask, but the man’s face wasn’t familiar. Hawk didn’t recognize him. Leaving him be, Hawk rose to his feet and lightly rapped on Jillian’s door. “Jillian? It’s Hawk. I’m coming in.”

      “Hawk?” Jillian’s voice was sleepy. “What are you