Maria jumped as if stabbed. He imagined
her eyes widening with the realization of the coming assault.
From under the leather trenchcoat a policeman's side-handled baton
appeared. Her attacker, his face hidden under the brim of his
hat and a nylon stocking, swung the weapon. Maria was quick, though,
and she deflected the baton with the briefcase. The assailant
moved in. A swift jab of the baton caught Maria hard in the ribs.
As she staggered the assailant snatched the case and ran.
Dan sprinted, reckless from adrenaline.
But he was too late. A black Chevy with a shine on the chrome,
came to a squealing stop, the assailant leaped through the open
rear door. Inside the thief's head turned, partially revealing
through the nylon stocking the finer details of his face—the
nose and a slender face and jaw. In that moment, as Dan's fingers
missed the closing door by inches, he realized that the assailant
was a woman.
Tires squealed, and the Chevy raced
away.
Dan took Maria's arm, looking her
over to make sure she was all right. She indicated that she was
fine.
A couple stood befuddled across the
street, a shop keeper shook a small carpet in front of his store.
"Follow her," Dan screamed.
"Where?"
Somehow she understood that he was
asking about her car. She pointed even as he moved toward the
Ford Taurus.
"Keys," he said, watching
the black sedan turn the corner. He opened the passenger side
and slid across to the driver's seat. "Stay here."
"I'm coming." She slid in
as he hit the accelerator.
