Twist of Fate by Jayne Ann Krentz

but if he were there with Hannah the two of them could ignore the others.
    He wanted to talk to her again, Gideon realized as he left the Market behind and crossed First Avenue. There was something appealing about talking to Hannah, even though she was more or less hostile toward him now. He’d like some more of her idealistic advice, even though he knew that he couldn’t act on it. He was too far gone down another road. In the past nine years he’d closed off too many of his options and he knew it.
    The morbid feeling grew as he walked another block toward the hotel. The morbid sensation turned grim and the grim mood turned aggressive and belligerent. Hands still thrust into his pockets, Gideon kept walking. There were others on the street. A few young prostitutes, male and female, watched him from the shelter of their doorways but something about him kept them from calling out. Gideon could smell the acrid scents of marijuana and cloves and urine as he passed the alleys. A couple of groups of cruising toughs sauntered past. They eyed him with the cold, voracious gaze of young piranhas but they didn’t get in his way.
    Gideon turned the corner at the next block, heading in the general direction of the expensive, luxurious, lonely hotel room that awaited him, and found himself on a much less active street. Here there were no prostitutes revealed in the streetlights, and the loose gangs of leather-jacketed teenagers weren’t prowling. Gideon kept walking.
    The man with the knife stepped out of the dark mouth of an alley next to a video rental shop that was closed for the night. Gideon felt the movement a second before he found the blade of the knife in front of him. The aggressive, belligerent feeling surged to the surface of his consciousness. Normally he got rid of the frustrated, angry sensations by swimming. But there were other ways to do it, ways he hadn’t used in a long time. He stared at the haggard face of the man holding the knife.
    â€œYou want something?” Gideon asked very politely.
    â€œYeah, dude. I want something. A lot of things. I’ll start with the wallet.” He made a quick, upwardly arcing motion with the blade and held out his other hand. There was a glittering wildness in his eyes. “Let’s have it.”
    â€œDon’t let the sportcoat fool you. You’re not the only one who’s had the advantage of a street education. You want the wallet? Come and take it.”
    The glittering eyes narrowed. “This ain’t no game, slick. I can cut you open ’fore you get a chance to yell.”
    â€œShow me.”
    â€œSon of a bitch. Give me the wallet!”
    Gideon said nothing. He waited with a sense of gathering excitement. This was what he needed tonight. But the need must have been showing in his eyes because the younger man wasn’t moving in on him.
    â€œI ain’t bullshittin’, slick. Hand over the wallet or I’ll…” The knife wavered as a car turned the corner and started down the street. The man glanced past Gideon, swore crudely and vanished down the alley.
    Gideon didn’t need to look around to know what kind of vehicle had turned the corner. He resumed walking. A few seconds later the police car cruised past. It slowed and the cop on the passenger side rolled down his window. He took one look at the expensive linen sport jacket and the Italian leather shoes and made his identification at once. Tourist.
    â€œYou lost, buddy?”
    Gideon sighed. “No. I’m on my way back to my hotel.” He named it.
    â€œThis isn’t the best route.”
    â€œThe hotel’s only three blocks from here.” He tried to keep the hostility out of his voice. His whole body was seething with unreleased tension and adrenaline.
    â€œWalk up to the next block and then turn right. It’s a little healthier than following this street.”
    â€œThank you, officer. I’ll do that.”
    The