The ground breaks away. I lose sight of him as I plunge down a creek bank. My boots slide as I cross the span of ice and muscle my way up the other side. I’m almost to the top when a heavy body plows into me. The impact knocks me off me feet. I land hard on my side and roll. I see the black silhouette of a man. Something in his hand. I bring up my gun. I hear the whoosh of air, then something slams into my wrist. Electric pain streaks up my arm. The .38 flies from my hand. I get my knees under me, swing the heavy Mag-Lite as hard as I can, feel the steel make contact.

“Fucking bitch!”

I throw myself at my fallen weapon. Hands in the snow. Fingers curling around steel. I twist. Bring up the gun. Decide on a body shot when the blow comes out of nowhere, crown of my head, hard enough to daze. A second blow lands above my right ear. A loud crunch! inside my head. My vision dims. The next thing I know I’m lying on my side. Snow cold against my face.

I don’t know if I’ve lost seconds or minutes. Afraid my attacker might want to go another round, I raise my head, look around. But the son of a bitch is gone.

“Chief! Chief!”

I barely hear T.J.’s voice over the ringing in my right ear. An involuntary groan escapes me as I get to my hands and knees.

He kneels beside me. “What happened?”

“Some crazy shit ambushed me.”

He jumps to his feet and pulls his sidearm. “How long ago? Did you get a look at him?”

“A minute ago.” I get to my feet, hoping my legs hold. “Male. Six feet. One ninety.”

“Armed?”

“With a frickin’ club.”

Studying me a little too closely, T.J. hits his lapel mike. “Mona, I’m 10-23. We got a 10-88 out here on Dog Leg Road.” He repeats my vague description of the assailant. “We need an ambulance.”

“No ambulance,” I cut in, loud enough for Mona to hear. “I’m fine. Tell her to call the sheriff’s office and get a unit to the dirt road by the covered bridge. That’s probably where the son of a bitch parked.”

T.J. repeats my instructions and ends with, “We’re going to look around.”

I spot my Mag-Lite lying in the snow and pick it up. “Did you see anything when you walked up?” I ask.

“Just you. Lying in the snow.” He grimaces. “Jeez, Chief, this is the second time in two days you’ve gotten clobbered.”

“I don’t think we need to keep a tally.” I run the flashlight beam in a 360-degree circle.

“What are you looking for?”

“My gun. Tracks.” I find my weapon lying in the snow a few feet away and pick it up.

“Look there.” T.J. shines his beam on footprints.

“Let’s go.” We follow them for several yards where they form a T. “He must have parked on the dirt road and walked to the crime scene.”