The path opened up into a wide deserted section. No one ran down here because the hill was such a killer to get back up. Perfect. Heart pounding, I went left to take the slope instead of heading for the Vine Street entrance. A smile curved over me as his pace faltered. He hadn’t expected that. Leaning into the hill, I ran up it full tilt, seeming to be in slow motion. The path was narrow and snow-covered. He followed.

Here, I thought as I reached the top. Panting, I snuck a quick look behind me and jerked off the path and into the thick shrubbery. My lungs burned as I held my breath.

He passed me with the sound of feet and heavy breathing, intent on his steps. Reaching the top, he hesitated, looking to see which way I had gone. His dark eyes were pinched and the first signs of physical distress furrowed his brow.

Taking a breath, I leapt.

He heard me, but it was too late. I landed against him as he spun, pinning him against an old oak. His breath whooshed out as his back hit, his eyes going wide and surprised. My fingers went chokingly under his chin to hold him there, and my fist hit his solar plexus.

Gasping, he bent forward. I let go, and he fell to sit at the base of the tree, holding his stomach. A thin backpack slid up almost over his head.

“Who in hell are you and why have you been tailing me the last three months!” I shouted, trusting the odd hour and the closed status of the zoo to keep our conversation private.

Head bowed over his chest, the Were put a hand in the air. It was small for a man, and thick, with short powerful-looking fingers. Sweat had turned his spandex shirt a darker gray, and he slowly moved his well-muscled legs into a less awkward position.

I took a step back, my hand on my hip, lungs heaving as I recovered from the climb. Angry, I took off my sunglasses and hung them from my waistband and waited.

“David,” he rasped as he looked up at me, immediately dropping his head while he struggled to take another breath. Pain and a hint of embarrassment had laced his brown eyes. Sweat marred his rugged face, thick with a black stubble that matched his long hair. “God bless it,” he said to the ground. “Why did you have to hit me? What is it with you redheads, anyway, always having to hit things?”

“Why are you following me?” I shot at him.

Head still bowed, he put up a hand again, telling me to wait. I shifted nervously as he took a clean breath, then another. His hand dropped and he looked up. “My name is David Hue,” he said. “I’m an insurance adjuster. Mind if I get up? I’m getting wet.”

My mouth dropped open and I took several steps back onto the path as he rose and wiped the snow from his backside. “An insurance adjuster?” I stammered. Surprise washed the remnants of adrenaline from me. I put my arms about myself and wished I had my coat as the air suddenly seemed colder now that I wasn’t moving. “I paid my bill,” I said, starting to get angry. “I haven’t missed one payment. You’d think for six hundred dollars a month—”