Читать книгу Dead Run - Jodie Bailey - Страница 13

THREE

“Dude, I think this might count as what normal people call ‘a problem.’” Travis Heath’s voice held the slightest thread of amusement as it drifted through the phone.

Lucas planted both feet onto the wide boards of his front porch and dug in his heels, but he didn’t bother to answer. Travis would keep talking whether he responded or not.

“There are better things to do on a Thursday night. There’s food. And friends. If any of the guys find out you’re stalking some girl’s house, your hero factor might fade a little.”

Lucas didn’t find any of this amusing. In fact, if he were the one on the other end of the phone, he’d probably forget the jokes and call the first sergeant to suggest a talking-to. Sitting on the porch to watch Kristin’s house across the street ranked up there with one of the least rational things he’d ever done.

After the attack at Smith Lake, Lucas hadn’t been able to get Kristin off his mind, although he’d tried. With the unit still getting into a routine after their deployment, the day was filled with mundane tasks, reestablishing a training schedule. He should have been focused on his job, but all his brain could do was scroll unbidden images of Kristin and replay conversations 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 he could forget the kind of bodily pain he’d felt after letting her unleash her personal trainer side during a weight-lifting session.

His smile faded. Kristin was small, but she was stronger than most men. She would be fine, and this stakeout was dumb. He was still in combat mode, seeing monsters in the shadows. Kristin was safe, and he needed to wrap this up, for his own sanity.

He pushed himself out of the chair, but a flash from the corner of the house near her car stopped him.

Lucas squinted against the darkness, wishing he could bolt across the street and demand some identification from the shadowy figure skirting between the vehicles in her driveway. But if it was a neighbor searching for a lost cat, he’d have a whole lot of questions coming and no good way to answer any of them.

The flashlight bobbed under a window then to the far corner of the house, where the gate to the backyard stood in the huge wooden privacy fence. The flashlight paused, and then the gate slipped open and the silhouette of a man vanished.

* * *

The floor joists creaked as Kristin paced the small kitchen on the side of the house, listening to the coffeemaker whir as it heated water. The muscles in her legs ached their protest. After her run today, she’d been too keyed up to stretch, and the tension of the morning had settled in to stay. She’d met with clients all day, coaching them through their workouts, then come home and pounded the punching bag in the basement until her arm muscles quivered. Nothing had helped the stress.

Maybe she ought to tackle painting the guest bathroom. She’d been putting it off, but painting would give her something to do tonight while she wasn’t sleeping. Renovations on the old house in the fast-rising Haymount neighborhood were coming slowly, but the basement and the first floor were done. Kristin paced the length of the kitchen again, staring at the original hardwood, polished to a satiny sheen. Tearing out layers of linoleum had been backbreaking but worth it.

“You could make a three-toed sloth so nervous it would run for the next county.” Kristin’s best friend, Casey Jordan, stood in the arched kitchen doorway, holding a dog-eared and worn book of sudoku puzzles, her shoulder-length blond hair pulled away from her face with a butterfly clip.

“Yeah, well, I think I need to lace my shoes and run a few miles.” Maybe she could talk Lucas into going with her. Except that would be the dumbest thing ever. With her emotions twisted, the last thing she needed to do was give him free rein with her feelings.

“Running is what got you into trouble in the first place.”

“Running is my therapy, like you and your crazy number puzzles.” Casey was talking about this morning’s trail run, but she was right on so many other levels. Running with Lucas had started something Kristin probably needed to stop. Even though she really didn’t want to. Kristin bounced on her toes, nervous energy pushing against her skin, searching for a way out. She pressed the brew button on the coffee machine then turned to her best friend. “You didn’t have to come over.”

“Sure, I did. And number puzzles make me happy.”

“You’re addicted.”

“Nice try swinging this to me. After what happened to you this morning, I couldn’t leave you here lying awake while you listen for things that go bump in the night.” Casey held up a hand to stop Kristin’s argument before it could form. “I know exactly what you’re going to say. You don’t scare easily, but knowing some guy out there has your house key can’t be comforting, especially after—”

“Can we change the subject?” Kristin didn’t want to think about it, but the twinge in her shoulder blade where she’d smashed into the tree kept her from forgetting.

The keys bugged her. Taking her keys and leaving everything else behind felt personal. She’d had the fob for her house alarm deactivated and made sure to set the alarm when she left to work, but that hadn’t brought her a whole lot of comfort. It was doubtful the police would get there fast enough, even with a monitored system. When the system went off last week, it took forever to trigger a phone call to her cell. Her mother’s home alarm hadn’t been a fast enough response the night her dad had lost it. The deed was done before the alarm company could respond.

“The locksmith came this afternoon and rekeyed the locks.” Still, if somebody wanted in bad enough, a lack of keys wouldn’t stop them. The guy was determined. He had known who she was, had mentioned Kyle by name. There was more to this than the surface told, but she couldn’t begin to guess what.

Not that she’d admit any of her fears to Casey. Still, it would be a relief to know Casey was bunked in the downstairs guest room. Kristin could take care of herself, but having an army staff sergeant to back her up wouldn’t be a bad thing.

She pulled the huge mug of coffee from the machine and handed it over, then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and an orange from the bowl on the table, following the other woman into the living room.

Sinking onto the sofa, Kristin started to set her water on the coffee table, but a soft sound from the side of the house kept the bottle hovering. Probably the wind. Or one of the cats that roamed the neighborhood after dark. She set the water on the table harder than she should have. Stupid day making her paranoid.

Casey curled her feet under her in a blue-and-white-striped wing-back chair and laid her book on the end table. “So...let’s talk about who played your knight in shining armor today.”

Kristin’s stomach sank. She should have known this was coming. Casey knew Kristin’s stance on dating, but the woman relished a good love story.

Well, there sure wasn’t one here. Kristin dug her thumb into the orange, releasing a soft citrusy spray, then pulled back the peel. “Nothing to talk about. Lucas and his buddy came around the corner. He chased the guy and called the cops while Travis acted like I was some weak female who needed his help.”

“Sounds like they played cleanup after you took care of the problem yourself.”

Kristin smiled and tipped the water bottle, taking a long drink. She’d defended herself quite nicely, if she did say so herself. If there was anything good about this day, it was the way she’d proved her strength, even if part of it was to herself.

“Too bad you can’t use the incident in your advertising and branch out into self-defense classes.”

No. The thought was a little tempting, but Kristin would never glorify an attacker by using his twisted behavior to sell her own skills. “I’ve got my hands full with personal training clients and hanging out with you.” Not to mention, the idea of having to defend herself if the guy returned wanting to talk about Kyle had her stomach knotted like a rope hammock.

“Hanging out with me. Whatever.” Casey waved a hand in the air, but Kristin could see it on her face. Under the tough-girl mask she always wore, Casey never could quite believe she was good enough, had said more than once she couldn’t understand why someone like Kristin would ever want to be her friend. Every time she said it, Kristin wanted to hug Casey and reassure her of her own awesomeness.

Before Kristin could say anything, Casey shifted in her seat. “What are you not telling me? Is there something more between you and this Lucas guy?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Kris...”

“You know what I can’t get out of my head?” If Kristin could possibly change the direction of this conversation, she was going to do it.

“What’s that?”

“The guy who came at me today...he had this tattoo.” She shuddered. Couldn’t help it. The thing was gruesome. “This snake on his leg. Wrapped all the way around his calf, dripping blood... I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You told the cops? That’s a seriously strong identifier.”

“I did.”

“And you’re not getting me off track. That’s not the thing you’re hiding.” Casey arched an eyebrow in that knowing way she had. “I want to hear about—”

“The guy who came at me on the trail mentioned Kyle. By name.” She winced, hating she’d confessed that much, but even though it invited more scrutiny, it was the one way to shake Casey off the Lucas thing.

“What?” Casey leaned forward and set her mug on the table hard, coffee sloshing onto the dark wood. She swiped the spot with her fingertips. “You were targeted? Because of your brother?”

“Looks like.”

“Why? What did the punk do to—”

“Kyle’s dead, Case. I get it—you never trusted him. But he was still my brother.”

“Who ditched you for years and only showed his face because he needed a place to crash.” The hardness in Casey’s expression faded, and she sat back, pulling at the hem of her purple Carolina Beach sweatshirt. “I’m sorry. He’s gone, and I should watch my mouth.”

“He was trying.” Kristin hated the weakness in her voice. Her brother had been the only family she’d had left. When they were small, he’d always played protector, even though he was a year younger. They’d been close, each other’s best friend and closest companion. He’d defended Kristin at every chance, though he never witnessed their father’s brutality. Kristin had protected him from the truth as much as possible, and Kyle had idolized the man. He’d run away shortly after their parents’ deaths, refusing to believe their father had done something so heinous. While Kristin had spent the remainder of her high school years with their grandmother, taking on her mother’s maiden name after refusing to be known by her father’s anymore, Kyle had wandered, staying with distant relatives and friends, generally getting into trouble before deciding to make the army his life. Those last few months before he deployed, when he’d been stationed at Bragg, had reunited the siblings, however briefly.

While Kyle was still a bit of a loose cannon, he’d matured. Other than being basically silent about anything personal, he’d seemed normal...for this new, more distant version of Kyle. He’d even helped her finish the basement before he deployed, using some of the skills he’d learned earning money in high school to put in drywall and paint. Other than his utter failure at communicating, those few weeks had been good.

When he’d been killed, he’d left Kristin his life insurance and the ’68 Camaro he’d been restoring in her detached garage. While she’d often sat in the front seat of the car and toyed with the idea of turning the key, she hadn’t had the heart to drive it. It was his baby, the one thing he’d been enthusiastic about.

“Listen, Kris...”

Kristin shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I admit he could be—” A crash from the backyard brought her to her feet, and she was halfway to the door before she realized she was plunging headfirst into danger...like her mother had on the night she died.