CHAPTER ELEVEN
Yvette Ramirez jogged through the quiet residential area of Marana, just off I-10 to the north of Tucson. It was dark, but she didn’t worry. This was a safe neighborhood, the streets were well lit, and it was too darn hot to jog in the daytime anyway.
A thirty-two-year-old radiologist at the University Hospital, Yvette loved her evening jog. She kept fit, with jogging every night, swimming twice a week, and self-defense classes four nights a week. Moshe, her instructor, said she was the best in the class. And he should know. He used to be an unarmed combat instructor in the Israeli Defense Force. He had a perfect physique and was a brilliant teacher. Too bad he was married with two darling children. But at least Moshe had given her another reason not feel worried about bei
