His iron gaze snared her attention. It blazed out from a sixty-grit face swaddled in a wild full beard in need of trimming and thick shoulder-length brown hair in need of brushing. In old jeans and a plain cotton shirt, he stood out among the regimented castes of nerds and neophytes like he had been dropped by a bird into a well-tended garden, a hardy weed among delicate prize-winning blooms. His solid stoic six-foot frame lounged back against the bar in the frantic tavern with his hard gaze fixed upon Violet.

Violet seemed another weed in this urban garden. A well-tanned five-foot-ten of muscular curves, she possessed an angular face framed with short no-nonsense brown hair. This athletic form was clothed in dark blue slacks and a lighter blue short-sleeve button-up shirt. It was a suitable outfit for an elementary teacher in her late twenties.

Not wanting to encourage a total stranger, Violet pried her eyes away back to the three she shared a table with. To one side sat Debra, ten years older. On her other side sat Charles, several decades older. Across from her sat Burgandy, several years younger. They were all leaning in across drinks and platters of appetizers so they could hear and be heard in the boisterous room.

Debra raised her glass. "To long summer months without rugrats underfoot."

Charles snatched up his glass and added to the toast with a distinct British accent. "Without delinquent adolescent brainless brats." They clinked and downed.

Violet frowned. "If you two hate children so much, why are you teachers?"

Debra laughed. "I don't hate them."

"Speak for yourself, Debra."

"Me and Charles are just glad to be rid of them for a while."

Charles focused on Violet. "I don't think Violet is. I think she honestly likes the little buggers."

Burgandy raised her glass. "To Mexico!"

Violet joined her. "That I can drink to." They clinked and downed.

"Where in Mexico?" Debra asked.

"Playa del Carmen. On the Mayan Riviera. An all-inclusive week of sun, surf, sand, food, and booze." Burgandy leaned across the table to Violet. "I'm coming back with well-tanned tits."

"You're not," Debra said.

Burgandy nodded as she undid the top three buttons of her blouse. She pulled it open and pulled down on her bra to expose the tops of her breasts. "See how white these babies are?" Since she faced Violet, Charles had to lean over for a clear view. "When next you see them, they will be tanner than Violet. All of them."

"You can tan your breasts in any tanning booth," Charles said with disdain.

Burgandy looked at him. "I'll take a selfie on the beach."

Charles continued to scoff. "Photographs can be doctored."

Violet laughed. "I think Charles is angling for a showing when you get back."

Burgandy leaned back pulling her bra up and buttoning her blouse. "I might. Just to prove it." Charles motioned for their waitress.

Debra laughed. "I think Charles wants to get Burgandy drunk enough she'll give a showing tonight."

"I just want to keep the party going," Charles offered in defense. "The last day of school is the best day of the year." The waitress arrived and Charles ordered another round. "Before and after pictures," he continued once the waitress left. "That's what you need, Burgie."

"And Charles would love to take them," Debra said.

"I'll take them," Violet volunteered.

"Why don't you come with me?" Burgandy asked. "We'll take pictures of each other's tits."

"I'd just be a drag."

"What are you going to do?" Debra asked. "Mope over Carl all summer?"

"I'll be too busy to mope. I'm tutoring summer school."

"Such dedication," Charles sneered. "You really do enjoy teaching the little ankle-biters, don't you?"

"What are your plans for the summer, Deb?" Violet asked.

"We're camping for two weeks in the Tetons."

"Sounds like fun."

"Come along. We've got a big tent."

"I'm not barging in on your family vacation."

"You have to do something this summer. Besides tutor. And sit around mooning over Carl. You can bet he's not going to waste a summer mooning over you."

Charles cleared his throat theatrically. "Is anyone interested in my plans for the summer?"

"No," Burgandy answered. All three women laughed.

"I'm working on my book," a deeply-offended Charles replied.

"Oh, God," Debra exclaimed. "The book!"

"How many summers have you worked on your book?" Burgandy asked.

"There was a lot of research to do. Now it is nearing completion." Debra and Burgandy laughed. "At least Violet is not mocking my efforts."

"What book?" Violet asked.

"The book," Debra said. "The one Charles has been working on since I've known him." She and Burgandy laughed. Charles leaned back in his chair with a frown.

Violet could resist the urge to look no longer. She glanced back to where the man who had been staring at her had been standing. He was gone. She looked all around the tavern. He was nowhere in sight. She picked up her drink but only sipped. It seemed the party was over for her.

Violet left the tavern not long after, while Debra, Charles and Burgandy were still happily discussing their plans for the summer. Violet had no plans for the summer. Backpacking with Carl, hiking and kayaking, maybe a little rock climbing, was what she thought she'd be doing. She loved the outdoors, loved venturing into wild places. Any activity that got her out of her little condo. Which in defiance of the laws of physics felt even tinier without Carl there. His presence had expanded its dimensions. In the vacuum of his absence it felt like she was living in an elevator. Violet would have loved to go camping in the Tetons. With Carl, not Debra. Her friend was married with two sons. No way would Violet intrude on that.

Violet had no qualms about driving home. She'd only had two drinks over a two-hour span. Other years she had stayed out later and drank more on the last day of school. Last year Debra's husband Don had driven her home. But that year she'd stayed until after midnight. This night she left the tavern before ten.

The parking lot of her complex was half-empty. She pulled her little sub-compact into its designated spot then climbed out and locked up. Tomorrow was good for unloading all the things she had brought home from her classroom. Now was the time for a relaxing bath, some music, one more drink, then off to bed.

Violet walked up to her door. A large form jumped out of the shadows. Punched her in the stomach so hard it took her breath. When she doubled over gasping for air a hand slapped over her mouth. The back of her head whacked the wall as she was slammed to the ground in front of her building. Stunned, desperately trying to breathe, flat on her back, she stared up in fright at the huge man above her. He was well over six feet and well over three hundred pounds. He dropped down on top of her and dug a knee into her stomach to deprive her of what little oxygen she had managed to suck in. With one hand still over her mouth, his other hand produced a large knife. She could only stare in terror as he placed the blade to her throat. "This is for L.J."

The steel biting into Violet revived her. She bucked with all her gasping might trying to dislodge her attacker, and grabbed his arm with both hands trying to force the knife away. To no avail. All her strength had been sapped from her body along with all the air. She had been rendered helpless from the suddenness and savagery of the attack, from the blow to the head, from the knee in her gut and the massive weight bearing down on her. She saw a grin, the memory of which she would take with her into the afterlife, on the face only inches from hers as the knife cut into her throat.

Bang! Violet was splattered with blood and gore. She easily pushed the knife aside as her attacker collapsed upon her. Violet sucked in a lungful of air and flailed at the dead weight pinning her on her back. She shoved the massive body away from her face and looked up. The bearded man from the bar towered above her holding a pistol. He turned away.

"Wait," Violet gasped. She kicked out from under the dead man and struggled to her feet. The shooter was gone. Exterior lights of several nearby units came on. The door of the unit next to hers opened a crack and a man's face peered out. "Call the police," Violet wheezed. She staggered a few steps, lost her balance and tumbled to the ground.

Several hours later Violet was brought out to the waiting area of a hospital emergency room in a wheelchair. She had bandages on her throat and the back of her head, and her clothes were filthy and covered with blood. Awaiting her were Debra and her husband Don. He was staring glassy-eyed at some late-night talk show. Debra sprang up. "Oh, God, Violet. What happened?"

"I was attacked," Violet answered with a dry hoarse voice. "In front of my condo."

"They're releasing you? With all this blood?"

"It's not mine. Can we go?"

"Of course." By this time Don had staggered to his feet. Debra dispatched him to bring their car up. She turned back to Violet. "I want to hear all about it."

"Sure. But not tonight. I just want to sleep."

"Is it okay for you to sleep? With a head injury."

"They did x-rays. It's just a bump."

"A six-stitch bump," the male attendant pushing the wheelchair said.

The attendant pushed Violet outside when Don pulled up in front of the door. He and Debra helped Violet up out of the wheelchair into the front passenger seat.

Don drove them to Violet's condo. He took Violet's keys and unlocked her door while Debra led her inside. Don walked through all the rooms to ensure everything was in order. After, he collapsed on the couch and turned on the TV. Debra took Violet into the bathroom to help her get ready for bed.

Once Debra had Violet in a nightgown, she led her into her bedroom. Violet stretched out on the bed with a deep sigh of relief. Debra drew the covers over her then sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand. Violet smiled up at her. "Thank you."

"Quit saying that. You know I'd do anything for you."

"I'm okay now. You can go home."

"I'm not leaving you alone tonight. Besides, Don is already asleep on the couch. Didn't you hear him snoring?"

"You don't have to stay. You've both done enough."

"I'm bedding down in your guest bedroom."

"I don't have a guest bedroom. I turned it into an office."

"Which has a futon."

"You guys are great."

Debra released Violet's hand and stood. "Sleep. Don's going for doughnuts in the morning. I'll make coffee. We'll talk about it over breakfast." Violet closed her eyes.

Violet opened her eyes to the morning. Her bedroom door was open and she could hear voices in another room. Violet tossed back the covers and sat up. She had to sit still and wait for the room to steady. She touched the bandage at her throat and the one on the back of her head.

After a minute she felt steady enough to stand. She shuffled out into the hall holding onto anything available as she went. In the kitchen she found Debra and Don sitting at the breakfast table eating doughnuts and drinking coffee. Neither appeared to have slept much. "That coffee smells delicious."

Debra and Don sprang to their feet and rushed to Violet. Each took an arm, and escorted her to a chair at the table. "How is it going this morning?" Debra asked as they eased her down.

"I've got a whale of a headache."

"I'll get your pain pills." Debra walked over to the counter.

"Are you going to have the front wall of your condo inspected?" Don asked.

"Why?"

"For structural damage. By the look of your head it took quite a lick."

Violet smiled, then frowned, touching her throat. "Please don't make me laugh, Don. It hurts."

Debra returned with the pain medication. "Do not give Vi a hard time, Don."

"You should carry a gun," Don said.

"I wouldn't have had a chance to use one last night." Debra returned to the counter to pour a cup of coffee and Don offered the doughnuts. "My throat's too sore to eat. But that coffee smells great."

Debra returned with a cup for her. "Can your sore throat stand to talk about it?"

Violet swallowed a sip of coffee with a wince. "There's not much to talk about. I never saw the man before. He wasn't trying to rob me or rape me. He meant to murder me."

"Could he have mistook you for someone else?"

"He seemed awfully sure of what he was doing. And the way he grinned. He was enjoying himself."

"A psychopath," Don said.

"Did he say anything?" Debra pressed on.

"Yes. He said, 'this is for L.J.'."

"L.J.? Any idea who he was talking about?"

"I've been wracking my brain. Not a clue."

"Did you piss off Jennifer Lopez?" Don asked. Debra gave her husband a lethal glare. Gobbling another doughnut, he leaned back with a shrug. "He could have been dyslexic."

Debra turned a sympathetic gaze back to Violet. "He had to think you were someone else."

"But that guy from the bar knew me, too."

"Last night?"

"Yes. I caught him staring at me in the bar."

"What about him?" Don asked.

"He saved my life." Both of them stared expectantly. "He followed me home from the bar and killed the man who was going to kill me. Then he disappeared."

"Are you sure it was him?" Debra asked.

"Yes. And I've never seen him before, either."

Debra smiled. "So a stranger followed you home from the bar, saw you get attacked, and came to your rescue. How romantic."

"But why did he follow me? When he looked at me in the bar it was as if he knew me."

"Vi, guys in bars try that trick all the time," Don said.

"That's enough," Debra announced. "You sound really hoarse. Your throat must be killing you."

Violet smiled after she finished her coffee. "This coffee is like medicine." Debra took her cup to refill it. "Thank you. You guys are great. But you don't have to babysit me all day. I'm all right now."

Don quickly stood. "As a matter of fact…"

"Don!" Debra barked. He eased back down into the chair. She turned to Violet. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I'll call you later. You call me if you need anything." Debra stood and hugged Violet. "Just take it easy today. Promise?"

Violet smiled in her embrace. "Promise."

Later that day Violet, still in her nightgown, sat before her computer in her office. The futon Debra had slept in was still open. She Googled L.J. Live Journal was the top entry. After that it was a list of businesses and people from around the world. None in Cincinnati, Ohio, where she resided. She clicked on entry after entry. L.J. Smith Stair Systems. L.J. Frezza had a video site on Vimeo that seemed creepy, with a picture of a guy looking through binoculars, and the one posted video she watched part of seemed equally creepy. But not threatening. There was a Wikipedia entry for L.J. Hoes, a professional baseball player. There was L.J. Michaels, a real estate agent. There was L.J. Smith, an author with a listing on Goodreads who wrote vampire novels. There was an L.J. who had a Flickr page of mostly black and white photos of faces that were so good Violet bookmarked it. There was L.J. Benet, a child actor with a listing on IMDb. There was Dr. L.J. McElravy, an assistant professor at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. There was L.J. Charles, yoga instructor. There was an LJK, Lok Jagruti Kendra, a charitable trust and registered society.

Violet was still working through the L.J.'s on Google when her doorbell rang. Bleary-eyed, she rose stiffly from before her computer and limped out to her front door to look through the spy hole. A man stood outside her door holding up a badge where she could see it. "Police detective, ma'am. I'd like to talk with you about last night."

"Certainly. Give me a minute." Violet walked into her bedroom to put on a robe. When she returned to look out again, he was patiently waiting on her porch. She unlocked and opened the door. "Come in."

When the detective strode in, he frowned with sympathy at the sight of her bandages. "Ouch." Violet could tell more about him without the fisheye effect. He was in his thirties, trim and muscular, with no what police would call 'distinguishing characteristics'. "Violet? I'm Joshua. Are you feeling up to this?"

"Yes." She led him to her couch.

They sat on opposite ends. "The man who attacked you last night was Elijah Wheeler. Does that name mean anything to you?" Violet shook her head. "What you reported he said to you. 'This is for L.J.'. Any idea who L.J. is?"

"I've spent all morning Googling it."

Joshua chuckled. "Did you find that Flickr page? With all the faces? Those were really good."

"You've been on Google, too?"

"Yes. But two initials isn't much to go on."

"That L.J. Frezza had some creepy stuff."

"I know. But if we tracked down everyone who posted creepy stuff on the internet, we wouldn't have time to eat any doughnuts."

Violet smiled. "I've got some in the kitchen. And coffee."

Joshua smiled. "No, thank you. Any thoughts about the man who murdered Elijah Wheeler?"

"Murdered? He saved my life."

"He could have done that without murdering the man."

"How do you know. You weren't there."

"Last night you said you didn't get a good look at him."

"That's right."

"Has anything about him come to you since then?"

"No."

Joshua sighed. "So you can't tell me the first thing about him. Was he tall? Short? Fat? Thin? Hair? Skin? Anything?" Violet stared, speechless. "Any with custard centers?"

"What?"

"Those are my favorites."

"Oh. No. They're all glazed."

"I can understand that you want to protect the guy. He saved your life. And the way he ran off, he obviously doesn't want to get involved. So you sure aren't going to help us track him down. I get that."

"It was dark. I was scared to death. I hit my head. I had a knife to my throat. A gun had just been fired and a dead man was bleeding all over me…"

"Coffee does sound good." Violet fell speechless, staring. "Since you offered."

Violet stood. "How do you like it?"

"Strong and black. The way I like my chocolate."

Violet walked into the kitchen and poured a cup. When she brought it into the living room, she found Joshua on his feet looking at a photo on the wall of her and Carl atop a natural rock bridge.

"A friend?"

Violet served the cup. "A former friend."

"Too bad. You two look happy. Where was this taken?"

"Red River Gorge. In Kentucky."

"Beautiful place." He turned to another photo. "You rappel?" Violet nodded. "You look like the outdoorsy type. Me, I'm not that adventuresome. I tend to stay on the trails." Joshua turned away from the photos to a stack of books. "You like mysteries. And now you find yourself in the middle of one." The detective turned away from the books to face her. "I'm sure you're curious about Elijah Wheeler. Here's what we know. He was a small-time thief in and out of prison all his life. He's not from Cincinnati. He lived in Corbin, Kentucky."

"Where's that?"

"Southeastern part of the state. Twenty-five miles north of the Tennessee line. Close to Cumberland Falls. Ever been to the Falls?"

"Yes."

"Another beautiful place. Kentucky is full of beautiful places." Joshua set his empty cup down. "Thank you for your time. If anything comes to you about your rescuer, you'll let me know. Right?" Violet stared blankly. "Right. Anyway." He handed her his card. Her eyes grew wide as she read it. "I know. Joshua Wheeler. Same last name as the man who attacked you. No relation. Goodbye, Violet." The detective walked out. Violet hurried to lock the door then went to the front window to watch him drive away.

Violet took the empty cup to the kitchen sink and poured a fresh cup of coffee for herself. Which she took back to her computer. She opened Google Maps and entered Corbin, Kentucky. It was a small city that Interstate 75 ran through. To the west was the expansive green of Daniel Boone National Forest. She located nearby Cumberland Falls. Further west and north was Cumberland Lake. After exploring that area, she moved north along I-75. London, Livingston, Mt. Vernon, Berea, Richmond, then on to Lexington. To the south of Corbin was Williamsburg, then Jellico, on the Tennessee line. To the east she found Harlan, Hyden, Hazard. These little towns she had heard of. This was the heart of coal country in Kentucky. She increased magnification as she had done in the other three directions. Barboursville and Pineville came up.

Her heart skipped a beat as something caught her eye. Kay Jay. Arjay. Two little towns in the mountains around Pineville and Barboursville. What if L.J. weren't initials? What if her attacker had really been saying El Jay? Violet scoured the map on her screen switching back and forth from street view to earth view. She maxed out the magnification and scrolled all over the area.

She found it. El Jay. A tiny dot at the end of the skinniest of lines in the mountains south of Barboursville. Violet stared at it in wonder. "This is for El Jay."