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Nocturnal wildlife played a deadly game of hide-and-seek a hundred feet below the gray hawk. Silently the hawk glided, silhouetted against the full moon, wings flat and graceful. It circled slowly, its underwing coverts trapping the rising air currents. Nature had no reason to fear the hawk, not at night. The hawk was a diurnal predator. It preyed only by day. But even in daylight, the animal kingdom didn't have to fear this particular gray hawk. The only animals in danger both day and night were two-legged.
The hawk folded its forty-inch wing span and perched on top of a pole. The warm, westerly breeze off Lake Michigan rippled through its feathers. In the distance, a train rumbled, its horn blasts echoing through the woods.
The hawk possesses the greatest eyesight in the animal world. Its eyesight not only outdistances a human's, but its visual acuity is also eight times more powerful.
The hawk can distinguish the various sounds prevalent during the day and those more common at night. It can distinguish between mating calls, distress and cries of pain. And it knows animal sounds from human.
Angry voices made the hawk jerk its head around. Swooping down for a closer look, it searched in the direction of the sounds, near buildings with windows facing the lake.
The buildings were tucked on the north side of a bluff where thick woods created a cozy backdrop. Clusters of townhouses faced the lake, each having its own deck with stairs leading down to the beach.
The hawk settled on a deck railing and cocked its head. The voices were coming from the end unit. Three figures could be seen beyond the French doors. Light filtered through the slices of vertical blinds revealing stark white end chairs and a sofa.
Two men were struggling with a woman. A muffled pop shuddered through the hawk. The odors were strong…gunpowder and blood. A deadly combination. The woman crumpled to the floor. Her long, blonde hair flowed gracefully around her head. A stain seeped through her white dress and between her breasts. The woman lay motionless, blue eyes open in shock, lips parted slightly. The stain grew, spreading onto the white rug.
A bright speck danced toward the fireplace. The hawk followed the object with curiosity. With unusual human-like intellect, it studied its surroundings as if looking for landmarks. By the time it returned its gaze to the French doors, the blinds were drawn tight.
With quick wing beats the hawk took flight, made a pass over the townhouses, and flew off. It climbed higher, over treetops, across a ravine toward a huge building with spiraling towers. It searched the balconies for a white scarf tied to a door handle, located it, and disappeared through the open balcony door.
