Dead Run. Jodie Bailey

Dead Run - Jodie  Bailey


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they’d had over the past couple of months. Their friendship might be young, but it ran deep, at least for him.

      He couldn’t speak for her, though. She’d bordered on telling him more personal things before, but she always checked herself, as if she were keeping a part of herself walled away. Maybe it was one-sided and she needed someone to train with, not a friend to tell her thoughts to.

      Still, here he sat, anchored to a canvas chair, watching and waiting. Kristin had walked away today convinced the attack was a one-off, but Lucas couldn’t help but believe there was more to it. He scrubbed at his cheek, wishing he could go in the house, watch a little TV, then hit the rack and sleep like a baby. But something—call it intuition or Jesus poking at him—said Kristin’s run-in with a bad guy coupled with the theft of her keys was only the beginning. Being the victim of two random crimes at almost exactly the same time couldn’t be coincidence.

      He still couldn’t shake the feeling she hadn’t told him or the police everything. Something more had happened before Travis and he had come along. Lucas just couldn’t figure out what.

      “I lost you, didn’t I?” Travis’s voice drifted through the phone again. “No one can blame you for watching out for a friend, but don’t cross the line from concerned friend to stalker.”

      Sergeant First Class Travis Heath knew Lucas better than anybody. They’d first met years ago in Ranger School, then been stationed together in their current assignment. As they worked as platoon sergeants, Travis in headquarters and Lucas in second platoon, they’d cemented a friendship, depending on each other in and out of the war zone. Travis always called it like he saw it, and he’d learned a lot from his own mistakes. If he felt like Lucas’s porch surveillance was out-of-bounds, then it probably was, and he wouldn’t hesitate to do what he could to keep Lucas from sinking into deeper trouble. “You think I’m crossing the line?”

      “Only if you’re attracted to her.”

      True, Kristin James was the most incredibly beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, with short dark hair that waved around her face and blue eyes clear enough to see through to her thoughts...except this morning, when something about those eyes made it clear she was hiding part of her thoughts. She’d make any man do a double take. But knowing she was gorgeous didn’t mean he felt anything more than friendship. “I’m not.”

      “Came back with that answer awfully fast, didn’t you?” Once again, a smile laced Travis’s accusation.

      Really? Travis could think this was funny all he wanted, but none of this was laughable, especially since Travis’s track record with women was pretty rough. Sure, Travis had changed over the past year, matured and dropped a whole host of bad habits, but he didn’t need to be joking about relationships. His mistakes had sure made Lucas think twice about dating any woman when the military could swoop him up and send him off to anywhere in an instant.

      Aside from any of that, some guy had targeted Kristin. He had her keys and likely knew where she lived. The part of him trained to defend couldn’t let go. “I’m going to ask again. Do you think I’m crossing the line keeping an eye on her?”

      “Are you kidding me?” Travis sobered, his earlier amusement gone. “I know your gut, Luke. It’s better than a guided missile fixed on a target. You think something’s going on, then you sit outside her house all night. If you’re certain somebody’s put a bull’s-eye on her, then I’ll take a shift later tonight so you can get some rest. But hey, don’t be obvious. You’re still the new guy in the neighborhood, and the last thing you need is a neighbor calling the cops on the creepy dude staring at the pretty lady’s house. And definitely don’t let Kristin see you. From what I saw today, she’ll kick you into the next county herself.” He exhaled loudly. “Man, do me a favor. If you’re going to sit on the porch alone for hours, at least admit you feel something for her.”

      “I don’t feel anything for Kristin James.” He couldn’t let himself. Lucas had spent years in a misguided search for meaning and relevance after his parents abandoned him on his aunt’s doorstep. There was no counting how many people Lucas had hurt, how many women he’d used before a chaplain jerked him by the neck right after he graduated from basic training and called him on his self-destructive behavior, showed him what Jesus and grace and forgiveness could do in a man’s life.

      No, Lucas knew every man had limits, and he’d never cross a line with Kristin or any other woman again, at least not while the army called the shots.

      “Lie to yourself all you’d like.” Travis was far from finished. “I doubt you’d be standing watch if there wasn’t a little bit of emotion involved.” He paused. “Never mind. Scratch that. You would. It’s how you’re wired. Forgot who I was talking to.”

      “You finished yet?”

      “No. I called for a reason. The commander called. Criminal Investigation Command is sniffing around our guys.”

      “Why?”

      “No idea. But keep a lookout. Something might be about to unleash.”

      Surely none of their men were in deep enough trouble to merit CID poking into the unit. They dealt with major crimes. Lucas let his eyes slip shut, trying to remember any local murders or assaults he’d seen on the news. Other than a specialist who’d come up hot on a drug test near the end of the deployment, nothing fit what CID might be searching for in their unit. They’d cut the guy loose last week and sent him packing. Yeah, Specialist Morrissey had been upset, but he wasn’t the type of guy to do something to merit an investigation by CID. Then again, Lucas had been certain he wasn’t the kind of guy to test positive, either.

      “Here’s the other thing. Maybe you need a break. You spent your post-deployment leave here, moving your stuff out of storage. Take a four-day. Get some actual time away. Shift that laser focus of yours to something besides your job.”

      Tempting, but Lucas wasn’t ready to do nothing. His mind and his body were still on high alert from deployment. Sitting still sounded like a recipe for disaster until he totally unwound. “I’m doing a marathon next month. Can’t disrupt training.”

      “Yeah, ’cause pounding pavement until your whole body threatens to fall out is relaxing. Or does training mean you get to spend more time with Kristin? You’re prepping together for the same run, right?”

      “Hanging up now. Had enough of your harassment. Go have fun with your buddies.” Lucas shifted to press End, knowing if the shoe was on the other foot, he’d be doing a whole lot more to provoke Travis.

      “Hey, wait.” Travis’s urgency stopped Lucas from cutting the call. “If something goes down, you need to call the cops. Or at least call me. Don’t go all hero and try to save the day without someone backing you up. If there’s really somebody after Kristin James, there’s a reason, and if they’re willing to be as bold as they were today...”

      Lucas’s smile faded as he propped a foot on the porch rail. Travis was right. This was stupid. Monumentally, colossally stupid.

      Yet he wasn’t going anywhere. “I hear you.” Lucas punched End without saying goodbye and stared at the small, square two-story brick house across the street. A second vehicle sat in the driveway, a Jeep Wrangler. Her friend Casey. Travis had met the other woman twice, but he couldn’t remember a thing about her other than her dark green Jeep.

      The house sat square in the small lot, the front door planted in the center of the structure, the windows on either side lit and casting deep shadows on the wide front porch. The little house sat across from his in the older Haymount neighborhood in Fayetteville, where the historic houses were gradually being overtaken and updated by those who saw value in their craftsmanship. He’d been in Kristin’s house several times to work out in her basement gym when it was too rainy to get in a run, so he knew she’d put a lot of work into hers.

      The memory made him grin. Kristin James might be a smashingly gorgeous woman, but she trained like a drill sergeant. He’d thought he was in shape and figured it would be easy to keep pace with her. Nope. She was a machine. No way


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