Following nearly invisible clues, he’d made his way another mile into the trees.
Triumph had coursed through his veins when he’d spotted the dilapidated wood structure covered with vines and hemmed in with overgrowth of scrub bushes and weeds where once clear ground had surrounded it.
As he’d listened from the tree line, and heard Harley Ann’s shout, relief flooded him. For that one moment he’d allowed himself to be just a regular guy feeling relieved he’d found his girl.
Now, he put those feelings back in their box as he concentrated on the best way to get in there and take this asshole out.
A shrill scream followed by a stream of foul language spurred him forward. In a crouch, he crossed the clearing and put his back against the house next to the window. Carefully, so very carefully, he eased around just enough to get a look inside with one eye. The sight both relieved and enraged him.
Harley Ann, very much alive and cursing like a sailor, sat tied to a wooden chair and struggled as David Green chopped off her beautiful auburn hair close to her scalp with a Bowie knife. The silken strands wafted to the floor and glowed like flames in a streak of sunlight shining into the room.
Green laughed.
He suppressed the urge to race inside, grab the knife and stick it into the bastard’s heart. Training held him steady. Any sudden move on his part could lead to that knife being buried in Harley Ann’s body.
He surveyed the room to determine what, if any, additional danger lurked inside. A ragged navy blue sleeping bag lay crumpled in one corner with a dirty pillow scrunched halfway under it. A rickety, gray wooden table stood against the opposite wall with crumpled up gas station food and candy wrappers lying on it and on the floor nearby. Empty water bottles lay haphazardly in one corner as though they’d been dropped on the floor and rolled away. Or maybe thrown by an angry hand. Green must’ve been here for a while.
A closed door probably led into the main room of the house. No other furniture. No closet.
No sign of a gun.
Unless one was hidden under the sleeping back. He could clearly see that there was nothing tucked into Green’s waistband beneath a thin t-shirt. However, he might have one concealed in an ankle holster.
Jesse reached back and touched the Glock he’d tucked into his waistband when he’d gotten the word from Piper that he needed to rush over to Miss Edna’s because Harley Ann was missing. He was ranked as a sniper and knew that he could take Green out from here with a single shot through the glass window.
That wouldn’t satisfy his rage though. His training had brought him here. Now it was personal. And nothing short of a face-to-face confrontation would satisfy him.
As he shifted his weight, a bird flew up screeching. He saw Green begin to turn as he ducked away from the window and tucked himself firmly against the side of the house. A killdeer dragged its wind across the rough ground. The bird’s way of luring danger away from its nest.
He cursed silently as he counted off the seconds. Waiting, hoping, that the noise would draw Green outside to investigate what had set the bird off. That would be his best chance to take the man down while keeping Harley Ann out of the line of action.
Making his decision, he very lightly rapped on the wood next to the window. Not enough to reveal himself, but, hopefully enough to get Green to come out and investigate.
Unexpectedly, the window began to go up. He hadn’t counted on that. But, it could be a big break for him if Green stuck his head out to look around.
Holding his breath, tensing his muscles, he waited as the old window slowly went up.
Green’s head came out and Jesse leapt forward grabbing him in a neck lock and dragging him out onto the ground.
He had the advantage of surprise, but Green had learned some dirty fighting tricks somewhere along the way. Probably his stint in prison.
As Jesse took him down, Green scissored his legs and twisted his upper body throwing Jesse off balance.
They crashed to the ground together in a tangle of limbs.
Jesse felt his gun pop loose from his waistband as his back made hard contact with the ground. His left hand held Green’s right wrist in a death grip as he strained to keep the Bowie knife from flashing downward into his body.
His left hand scrabbled across the ground, grasping at empty air, trying to locate his gun. He didn’t dare take his eyes off his enemy.
Their combined grunting and heavy breathing filled the clearing with sound. Agitated birds took flight from the trees and scuttling sounds in the underbrush indicated smaller animals fleeing the area.
Jesse saw sweat beading up on the Green’s face and felt it beginning to pool behind his own back.
“Give it up you sonofabitch!” He gritted through his teeth.
“You give it up.” Green spit back at him. “You’re the one with his back to the ground. As soon as your arm gets tired this here knife is gonna be in your chest.”
Sweat from Green’s face dripped into Jesse’s eyes, burning like fire. He didn’t dare blink to try to wash it away. You didn’t take your eyes off a snake that was just waiting to strike. More sweat slicked Green’s wrist where he had a tight grip as the continued their struggle.
