Yuletide Defender Read Online Free PDF Page A

familiar with new areas of the city.
    She stepped from the car and started toward the meetingplace two blocks away. In the glow from a streetlight, she glanced at her watch. Eleven forty-five—fifteen minutes until showtime. She’d have to hurry if she was going to find a vantage point for watching. She pulled her coat tighter and hurried through the night.
    Rounding the corner at Walters and Branson, she looked around for a hiding place. The stores still in business on the street were deserted, having closed hours ago and pulled iron gates across their fronts. Others sat like ghosts in the darkness with their doors and windows covered with boards.
    Pondering which side would afford the best view, she crossed the street and walked several feet to a narrow alley that ran between two of the deserted stores. She flattened herself in the shadows against the brick exterior of one of the buildings and hoped that she was hidden from sight.
    Her heart beat in her ears with a deafening thud. She pressed her hands to her chest and breathed deeply. No matter what happened, she had to keep control of her senses and observe every detail accurately.
    The thumping in her chest slowed and she relaxed. Careful not to make a sound, she scrunched against the wall and waited.
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    From his position at the second-floor window of an abandoned building, he watched her slip into the alley across the street. “Well, Rachel Long. What are you doing here? If you’re looking for a story, maybe I can oblige.”
    He had to hand it to her—she had spunk. Not many women would put themselves in danger by coming into this neighborhood at night, not even for the promise of a sensational story.
    He picked up the sniper rifle lying beside him and stroked the weapon. Never had he seen a better barrel contour than this masterpiece exhibited.
    He raised the rifle to his shoulder and peered through thescope. Rachel’s image came into his sights. It would be so simple. The paper might offer a reward for information leading to the arrest of the gang member who killed a crusading reporter.
    His index finger hovered over the trigger. So simple.
    The roar of an engine shattered his focus. He watched as a black sedan with tinted windows pulled to a stop, just over ten feet from Rachel.
    He frowned as he studied the vehicle. He knew the owner, Terrence Cooper, well. Tonight was shaping up to be a fun-filled outing. Terrence might not think so if he knew what was about to happen.
    Within moments, another car drove up and parked behind the sedan. A man jumped out and hurried toward Terrence’s car. Even in the shadows he recognized Tom Carr.
    A movement from the alley caught his attention and he swung the rifle to his shoulder. Evidently Rachel wanted a better view. He grasped the rifle tighter. The stock felt cool against his cheek and sent a thrill coursing through his body.
    He peered through the scope at Rachel’s magnified figure and then focused on the man on the sidewalk. Terrence, who had an envelope in his hand, emerged from the car and appeared in the scope’s crosshairs. Three people who had no idea of the danger around them. He wavered back and forth. Who should be first? Tom reached for the envelope and stuffed it in his coat pocket.
    There really was no choice. It was time for retribution. He held his breath and pulled the trigger.

THREE
    T he sharp crack of a rifle ricocheted off the brick buildings. Rachel slammed backward into the recesses of the alley. With the second shot, she fell to her knees and covered her head with her arms. Panting for breath, she waited for another report. When a third didn’t follow, she pushed to her feet and inched toward the sidewalk.
    The black sedan, its motor idling and its windshield shattered, hadn’t moved. Beside it, a man with blood pouring from his head lay on the sidewalk. Another man sprawled next to him.
    Afraid to expose her position, Rachel debated on whether or not