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the corner of Broad Street and Meridian Avenue, its engine gunning impatiently for the traffic light to change, nor did she see the driver hit the gas as soon as the light did change, skidding around the corner just as she was crossing, neatly sideswiping her, and knocking her off her feet.

“You should watch what you’re doin’, lady -- and who you’re doin’ it for,” the driver, whose cap was pulled too far down on his face for recognition, jeered as he gassed the truck and sped off.  “You never know -- you could get hurt.”

Lily lay on the road, shaken and confused.

“Oh my word!” an elderly man, who had been standing at the intersection, exclaimed, as he came hurrying to her aid.  “Are you all right, Miss -- are you hurt?”

He wasn’t anyone Lily knew.  “I don’t think so,” she told him, as he helped her to her feet.

“Maybe you should see a doctor, just to make sure,” the stranger suggested.

“Thank you, but I think I’m okay,” she said, checking her neck, her legs and her arms, making sure they were all still in working order.  “He just knocked me down.”

“I don’t know how that idiot could have missed seeing you,” the man exclaimed.  “You expect this sort of thing to happen in Seattle, of course -- it happens there all the time -- but who would have thought it could happen in a quiet little place like this?”

“Quiet little places like this can be deceiving,” Lily told him.

“Well, if you’re sure you’re all right,” he said.  “Because otherwise, my car’s right across the street, and I’d be more than happy to drive you to a hospital.”

“That’s very kind of you,” she said, “but my office is just down the block.  I think I’ll go on over there and clean myself up.”

“Well, I don’t know if it will help any,” the elderly man said, “but if you want to file a complaint, I’m pretty sure the truck that hit you was a red Chevy Silverado, and the three letters on the license were AJN.  I’m sorry, I didn’t get the numbers.”

Lily looked at him in surprise.  “Thank you,” she said.  “Whether it helps or not, thank you.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay?” he persisted.  “Because I don’t want to leave you here if there’s even a chance that you’re not.”

“I think so,” she told him.  “I’ll go to my office and rest for a while, and then see how I feel.”

She already knew how she would feel -- furious.  And by the time she got through the front door of the Victorian, she had a pretty good start on it.

“My God, what happened to you?” Wanda exclaimed when she saw a wet, dirty, and disheveled Lily.

“This is getting out of control, and I’ve about had enough of it,” Lily snapped, launching into as detailed a description as she could of what had taken place.

“It was deliberate?” Wanda gasped.

“As deliberate as it gets,” Lily fumed.  “So suppose we get the police up off their collective asses once again.  There can’t be too many red Chevrolet Silverados in this county, with the letters AJN on the license plate, whose driver has it in for someone who’s just trying to do her damn job.  Port Hancock’s finest surely ought to be able to track it down.”

It was only then, as she turned toward the stairway, that she realized she had an audience, that it wasn’t only Wanda, who had heard every word.

“This gentleman has been waiting to see you,” the receptionist murmured.

Lily took a deep breath and did her best to compose herself.  “I’m so sorry you had to wait,” she said.  “What can I do for you, Mr. -- ?”

“Dancer, Ma’am,” he said.  “You can call me Dancer.”

“All right, Mr. Dancer, how can I help you?”

“Just Dancer, Ma’am,” he said.  “And I’m here doing a favor for a friend.  This friend thought maybe you could use a little backup, of the unofficial kind, and from what I just heard, and what I see, I’d say this friend was right on.”

Lily frowned at the stranger.  “Friend?” she echoed.  “Backup?  I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He pulled his identification out of his back pocket and handed it to her.  It and the badge he presented confirmed that he was a US Marshal from Spokane, a city all the way on the other side of the state.

“I’ve got a pretty reliable 4-Runner parked out front that can take you anywhere you might need to go,” he told her.  “I have an excellent driving record.  I’m on leave from my department for as long as necessary.  And as far as I’m concerned, what you do, or don’t do, and who you do it for, is nobody else’s business but your own.”

Lily was stunned.  She knew there was only one person in Port Hancock who had the kind of reach this maneuver had required.

“Thank you,” she said as politely as she could, “but I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“It sure didn’t sound that way to me just now,” Dancer said easily.  “To me, it sounded like you could use all the help you can get.  What you just got there was a warning, Ma’am.  Next time, on some other road, on some other day -- or night, that truck might not bother to miss.  So maybe you ought to reconsider.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Dancer,” Lily responded, perhaps a bit more bravely than she felt at the moment.  “But I was born and raised here.  This is my town.  I know these people.  I’ve known them all my life.  And while it’s true that sometimes they like to blow off steam, when it comes right down to it, they’re basically good people, and they do the right thing.  I really don’t need to be protected from them.”

Dancer shrugged.  He took a card from his wallet and dropped it on Wanda’s desk.  “I’ll be around for a couple of days.  Let me know

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