The Archer [Book 13 of the Hawkman Series] by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

the main street, and continued toward the freeway ramp. He exhaled in relief when no one pulled in behind him. Once on I-5, he kicked up his speed and headed for Copco Lake. The overcast sky hid the moon, so the highway appeared black as pitch. Glancing into the side mirror, Hawkman could see the faint silhouette of a pickup, with no lights, gaining on him fast. He shoved his foot on the accelerator, causing his 4X4 to leap ahead.
    Reaching across his chest with his right hand, he loosened his shirt buttons and flipped up the Velcro flap on his shoulder holster that held his weapon. Leery of what to expect, he braced himself for some sort of impact as the vehicle gained on him.
    Suddenly, a cracking sound vibrated the hull of his SUV. Peering into the rearview mirror, he could see the back window had shattered. It hadn't fallen out, but one more arrow piercing the surface would send glass flying onto the freeway in a million pieces. He watched the pickup behind him veer off onto a ramp and disappear into the darkness. They'd never gotten close enough for him to identify the make or color of the truck.
    In the distance, through the side mirrors, he noticed the headlights of a vehicle pull back upon the freeway going the opposite direction. They'd had their fun and were now heading back to town. These were dangerous people and he worried about Laura. What if they forced her out of her car and into theirs. Then he couldn't track her whereabouts. He might have to rethink the tracking system and have her put one on her body too, a thought he'd better take seriously.
    Hawkman didn't like driving with a broken back window that obscured his vision of the road. He'd have to get it replaced first thing in the morning. His tension relaxed when he rolled across the bridge spanning Copco Lake. Nothing made him smile like the sight of bright lights shining from his home. He pulled into the garage, got out and examined the broken rear window by the glow of the garage door light. The arrow has fallen out and probably lay crushed on the freeway by people driving over it. To assure the glass would hold together for the trip into town for repair, he put several strips of duct tape across the hole, then hurried into the house out of the cold weather.
    "Man, it's freezing out there,” he said, plopping his briefcase on the counter and rubbing his hands as he moved in front of the fireplace. Jennifer had placed a huge log on the grate and the flames licked up the sides, sending waves of heat into the room.
    She sat on the hearth with Miss Marple at her side. “Thought you might enjoy a warm fire when you arrived. The cold front hit really fast. The temperature dipped twenty degrees within an hour.” She shrugged. “Anyway it sure felt like it."
    Hawkman reached down and gave her a kiss. “Thanks for making the house so warm and cozy. I hope you realize how much I appreciate you."
    She smiled. “It goes both ways."
    He reached down and stroked Miss Marple's back, causing her to arch. “Has she been a good girl today?"
    Jennifer made a face. “No. She pulled a stunt she hasn't done since she was a kitten."
    Hawkman eased himself down on the hearth. “I'm afraid to ask what she did."
    "She got into the bathroom and unrolled the toilet paper. Thank goodness it was down to a small bit, so it didn't make a horrible mess."
    He chuckled. “What in the world brought that on?"
    "She wanted attention. I worked on my book most of the day and didn't give her much, so she decided to find something that would set me off."
    Hawkman picked up the cat and looked into her face. “Shame on you."
    "Enough about the spoiled pet. How'd your day go?"
    He placed the feline on the floor, where she stretched and yawned, then jumped back up on the hearth between the two. “Not too productive. Ended up getting the back window of the SUV shattered."
    Jennifer yanked her head around. “What! How?"
    He told her about the incident as she stared at him wide eyed.
    "I