Marcus: The M Series, Book Three Read Online Free PDF

when your wife eats cookies, does she dunk them in the milk?”
    “Yes. Repeatedly.”
    “Stacy make a dunking move.”
    Hunt dips her hand up and down in the glass. It’s exactly what Mariah does, every time.
    “All right, Brown. Go,” Parker shouts at the back door.
    A large man in black creeps in and freezes at the open door, inside taped footprints.
    “This is where he stopped, Dr. Cannon. I believe she surprised him because she was sitting in the kitchen. We are trying to act out where he may have touched, looking for prints or other clues. So we attempt to recreate the scene. Go, Brown.”
    Brown swiftly crosses the kitchen and puts a rag on Hunt's face. Parker counts. When he gets to seven, Hunt goes limp.
    “No, that's not right. Mariah would have fought,” Joshua insists. “Remember after the twins were born, all the women took that course? Where they learned to scream and use odd weapons: feet, fingertips, nails... She wouldn't have just sat there as he attacked her.”
    Remembering, I nod. “That's right! They sent out a tester after the graduate and Mariah really did a number on him.”
    “Do you know where that class was, sir,” Hunt asks.
    “Um... Victory. Yeah, on Victory,” Joshua says.
    “Ryan, that's Dawson's place,” Hunt says. “He's here, in the garage.”
    “Send in Dawson,” Richards yells to Daniels.
    A moment later, a light-complected African-American man enters the kitchen. “You need me, Richards?”
    Richards points to Parker and I look intently at Dawson.
    “I've met you,” I murmur, thinking. “Yeah, you're the guy Mariah beat up in the clinic lot. She thought you were attacking her for real.”
    He nods, shaking my hand. “Devon Dawson. I remembered her when I saw the picture during the briefing. She was good, learned quickly. What do you need, Parker?”
    “Dawson, quickly show Stacy how you taught Mrs. Cannon to fight back. She was sitting, we think, when she was confronted,” Parker says.
    Dawson walks over to Hunt.
    “All right, Hunt, plant your feet firmly, knees apart. If he steps into you, circle him and squeeze your ankles tightly and throw the top of your body to your clear side, hard. Try like hell to keep your ankles locked behind him. If you do it right, you will fall to the floor, taking him with you. Then kick, aiming in the groin area, and scream. If he stays from between your knees, reach up with both arms, in between his, push out and come back in immediately and scratch at his eyes, as close as you can get. Or bring your fingertips together like this and peck sharply, like a woodpecker. Or use the heel of your hand and push up, hard as you can. We'll try one. When I shout, stop. Ready?”
    She nods and takes a deep breath. “Yes.”
    Dawson steps back, and pulls his sweater cap over his face; only his eyes show. He comes at Hunt and puts his hands on her, she brings her arms up and hits him in the face with the heel of her hand and he shouts. Stepping back, he removes his cap, and reveals a reddening mark under his cheek bone.
    “Done! Okay, she's got it.”
    “How tall are you, Dawson,” Richards asks.
    “Six, even.”
    “Shit… Brown, were you watching?”
    I turn to where Richards is looking and am surprised to see Brown is an older man, the color of chocolate. With his build and agility, I thought he was my age. He has to be more like my dad's age.
    “I was,” Brown nods.
    “Let's try both scenarios. Stay out of her knees first, Brown, all right?”
    “Got it.”
    Parker starts again. “Okay, Brown position one. You, too, Stacy. Stand back, everybody. All right… ready, Stacy?”
    She nods, resuming her faux dunking.
    “Go, Brown,” Parker yells.
    Again Brown comes in and freezes. He crosses the floor quickly and places the rag on Hunt’s face. This time Hunt fights back, and reaches at Brown's face but doesn't touch it. The rag falls from his hands as he struggles to gain control of her. Brown's sweat runs down and hits his jaw and