Dead Run

by Jodie Bailey

  The control-freak side of Kristin came out in her home. The polished hardwood was spotless. The dark wood cabinets harbored no dust. No photos, no knickknacks, nothing broke the smooth surface of the marble counter. Everything had a place. From what little she’d told him on their morning runs, he knew her childhood had been chaotic, and the early chaos came out in her need for strict order as an adult.

  She’d have made an amazing military officer.

  He inhaled deeply, centering himself in where he was. The place had a scent of its own. Not like some houses, all cinnamon and spice. More like outdoors and oranges. Probably from the bowl she kept on the table. Every time they worked out together, she’d dig into an orange after, always offering him one before she slipped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table to peel the fruit and savor it like other women savored chocolate.

  He’d never been a fan of oranges before, but lately he’d acquired the taste.

  Lucas shut the door behind him, wanting to sink into one of the chairs at the small breakfast table where they’d shared a handful of meals after workouts. The woman might be tough as nails, but she could cook like nobody’s business. Probably because her inner control freak didn’t trust anyone else to touch her food.

  Kristin passed the small table in the breakfast nook and pulled one of the black wood chairs out. “Have a seat and we’ll see if we can make you look less like you went a few rounds in the Ultimate Fighting Championship.” Without looking back to make sure he obeyed, she charged through the arched doorway to the dining room.

  Lucas could hear her footsteps on the stairs, either to find a first-aid kit or to break the phone he was pretty certain Casey was using to call the police.

  Dropping into the chair, Lucas stared at the door. Whoever had come after Kristin at Smith Lake today had likely been watching her, had known which car was hers and had taken the opportunity to steal her keys and her address, probably off her registration. The scum had liked what he’d seen and had decided to come after it in spite of the fact Casey’s Jeep in the driveway proved Kristin wasn’t home alone.

  The thought of someone hurting Kristin made him run hot with anger and cold with fear. Even though Travis tried to imply differently, Kristin was a friend, and Lucas would do what he had to do to protect her.

  He pressed a finger gingerly to his cheek. Even if he had to do battle with shadowy men in her backyard.

  Kristin came into the room and dropped a first-aid kit onto the table, then laid a damp washcloth beside it. She pulled out the chair across from him and sat, tipping her head toward the items in front of him. “You look a mess. The cut by your eye you can probably camouflage a little bit. You’re lucky the guy didn’t leave a worse mark on your chin. Not sure how your chain of command would like you looking like the loser in a fistfight.”

  His chain of command was a worry for tomorrow. “Loser? I’m pretty sure I look like the winner.” He grabbed the washcloth and weighed it in his hand, unable to help himself. “Are you sure you don’t want to do this for me? Like in the movies? Help the poor hero who was injured when he managed to—”

  “Don’t push it.” She sat back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest, the words harsh but her blue eyes not backing up the sass.

  Those eyes. He dropped his to the first-aid kit. It would be way too easy to stare into hers when he knew better. The way she leveled those crystal blues on him dragged a longing into his chest. One he hadn’t felt in a long time... One that made him sit straight in the chair and fight for air. He squeezed the damp cloth until water dripped onto his thigh and seeped through his blue jeans. Get over yourself, Murphy. No sense in dragging her into a lifestyle that would only tear them apart when he left.

  He stared at the dark spots the water had left on his thigh, wresting control of his rogue thoughts before he pressed the cloth to the corner of his eye. “Casey called the police?”

  “You read people well. She did. But really, what can they do? They’re going to come here, ask some questions. They’ll want to talk to you, I’m sure, but later? They’ll put out an extra patrol and an officer will come by once an hour or something. It’s not enough to put my faith in. They’re too understaffed to do more, and patrols leave too many gaps in the meantime for someone to try again.” Her words were matter-of-fact, but her fingers tightened around her biceps. She might not want to admit it, but the day’s events weighed on her. The strain showed in the straight lines of her posture and the sharp angles of her words.

  “The guy has your keys.”

  “The locksmith changed my locks today, and I had the fob for the alarm disabled. They won’t do him any good.” She leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table. “Lucas, really. How did you manage to be here tonight right when you needed to be? And don’t try to tell me you happened to walk by your front window.”

  Lucas checked the cloth and reached for the first-aid kit, digging for anything that might stop the sting near his eye. He really didn’t want to explain what he was doing here tonight, but he’d never lied to her before and he wasn’t about to start now. “I was worried. I knew the guy had your keys, so...” Saying I was sitting across the street watching your house sounded a whole lot better in theory than it was ever going to sound in person. In person, it sounded like he’d bounced his marbles halfway to Smoke Bomb Hill on the east side of Fort Bragg.

  “So you thought you’d pull guard duty.” She sighed and stared at the closed plantation blinds over the side window, shaking her head. “You’re crazy.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  She chuckled. “Really. I think I proved this morning I can take care of myself. And Casey’s here.” She aimed a finger at the door, her expression softening. “Go home. I know you have to work in the morning, and you can’t lose sleep watching over me forever.”

  Everything she said made logical sense, but he couldn’t make himself agree with her. All he could see was that monster of a man slamming her into a tree this morning. The replay always stopped right before Kristin sent the guy running with his tail between his legs and spun a whole new horrible version of what might have been. “How bad is your back hurting right now?”

  Her head drew back like she was dodging a blow. She eyed him for a minute before she took an orange from the bowl and rolled it between her palms. “Not as bad as you’d think. A little sore in the shoulder blade, but not enough to slow me down.” She dropped the orange and rolled it across the table toward him. “Thanks for asking.”

  “No problem.” Lucas rolled the orange to her. “And I’m sleeping on your couch tonight.”

  They shared an elementary school–style stare-down before she turned away and stretched across the table, dragging the red canvas first-aid kit toward her. “I’ll make a deal with you.” She dug through until she found a butterfly bandage, then slid it toward him. “For your eye.”

  “What’s the deal?” He didn’t reach for the bandage. If he finished doctoring himself, she’d kick him out of the house.

  “I’ve got an alarm. A loud one. If something goes bump in the night, you won’t be able to sleep through it.” The doorbell echoed through the room, and Kristin pushed away from the table, grimacing. “Final offer, superhero. Take it or I’ll tell the cops you’re part of the problem then send you and Casey both home.”

  Lucas hesitated, then reached for the bandage on the table with a nod. Fine. He’d leave.

  But she couldn’t keep him from sitting on his own front porch.

  FIVE

  Kristin shifted her small SUV into Park and killed the engine, staring at the brick building in front of her. She twisted her hands on the steering wheel, watching soldiers filter out of the building for lunch, hoping Lucas wasn’t one of them. She knew this was his area, knew her brother had been in the same battalion. Although the chances the two of them had crossed paths were
slim, the last thing she wanted to do was run into him.

  The conversation in her kitchen last night had been awkward at best, uncomfortable at worst. He’d sat across from her, bleeding, while her fingers itched to help him. The problem was, something under her skin was reacting to his presence, to his macho hero actions in her yard. Touching him, even to bandage his eye, would have gone exactly like he’d joked—like a movie. It would have ended with her looking way too deeply into his brown eyes and wanting nothing more than to kiss him. It had been a relief when he went home. Even more of a relief when she’d peeked out the window somewhere in the middle of her long, sleepless night and seen his shadow move on his front porch.

  She’d never had a panic attack, not even the night her mother died, but the thought of feeling this strongly for Lucas Murphy bordered on the most terrifying thing she’d faced since. It would lead to trouble. Lots of trouble.

  So the last thing she wanted was to run into him on this fool’s errand for one of her brother’s buddies. She surveyed the soldiers again, looking for one who seemed familiar.

  A tall, thin soldier broke away from the pack and headed her way with a determined stride. Specialist Brandon Lacey had come to her house a few times to work on Kyle’s beloved Camaro with him, and he’d written twice after Kyle died, working out his own grief. Kristin’s overall impression had always been of a tall, lanky kid who was still trying to get comfortable in his adult skin. He walked with more confidence now, post deployment, but he still gave off a slightly awkward air.

  She reached for the shoebox-size package on the passenger seat and slipped out of the SUV, her bruised shoulder blade protesting the lateral movement, and stayed close to the vehicle so she could get away before Lucas somehow appeared and got the wrong idea. The last thing she needed was him thinking she’d decided to stalk him, even though he’d done a fair job of making himself right at home in her immediate vicinity.

  At the sight of her, Specialist Lacey broke into a grin and jogged closer. “Kristin, I’d remember you anywhere. Hard to forget those crazy blue eyes.”

  Yeah, yeah. Sure. She’d like just once to meet someone and have them not talk about her eyes. “It’s me.” She shoved the package toward Lacey. “He sent this to me right before...” It was still too hard to say. He died. The last of her blood family, gone.

  She shook it off, wanting to get this over as fast as possible, both to keep Lucas from spotting her and to keep Brandon Lacey from staring at her like he’d never seen a woman before. “Anyway, he said it was some stuff you didn’t want sent to your parents’ address and he’d...” Take care of it when he came home.

  Brandon didn’t seem to notice Kristin’s discomfort, just grinned wider as he took the package and tucked it under his arm. “Bought my mom a few things from a market over there. Kyle being in the mail room made it easier for him to get things out than for me to pack them in my ruck. She’s coming here to visit soon, so it’ll be good to have it. Thanks.” His grin faded, and his face fell under his beret. “Like I said when I wrote you, I’m sorry about Kyle. He was a good friend. Liked to skate the line a little, but he had a buddy’s back when he needed it.”

  Kristin pressed her lips together and nodded, flicking a glance over the kid’s shoulder as he talked. The flow of soldiers heading out to lunch had slowed to a trickle. Maybe Lucas was working through. Or maybe he’d left. Either way, she wanted out before he appeared or Lacey drifted into some sentimental place and started telling stories she wasn’t ready to hear. Maybe someday...

  “Thanks.” She held up her watch, making a show of checking the time. “I’ve got a training client in an hour, so I need to get going. If I find anything else I think you might want when I get Kyle’s things, I’ll let you know.”

  Brandon started to leave then stopped, head tilting. “You don’t have his stuff yet? They didn’t send it when he died?”

  “No. I didn’t expect to see anything until you guys all returned.” Truth was, she was in no hurry. Digging through her brother’s life felt wrong, especially given their brokenness.

  “Hmm.” He bobbed a nod, then looked at a tight-knit group of soldiers standing about a hundred feet away, watching with interest.

  No telling what they thought her relationship with this kid was. He was a good five years younger than her. Probably more. Well, they could think whatever they wanted, but thinking wouldn’t make it true.

  “Well, if I can speed anything up for you, I will, but you know, my rank’s not high enough to order anyone around. Have a good one. And thanks for dropping this off.” He tossed a wave and jogged to his buddies, who were uncharacteristically silent, from what she knew of young soldiers.

  “What are you doing here?” The voice at her elbow made her jump.

  Kristin grabbed the door to steady herself, her heart jerking into her throat then dropping into her shoes. Lucas. She hadn’t made it out fast enough.

  “You look like you’re not so happy to see me.” His eyebrow lifted in question, though he seemed amused. “Did you need me for something?”

  Her face was probably twisted into a scowl, not welcoming and definitely unfriendly. He stood so close the warmth of him telegraphed to her, firing whatever she’d felt last night all over again. “No, I’m not here stalking you.” Her voice cracked, so she swallowed the jagged edges of attraction and slid into the SUV, desperate for distance. “I had to bring my brother’s friend something.”

  She reached for the door, but he held tight above the window. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  Kristin stared out the windshield, refusing to look at him. She’d chosen to keep Kyle’s association with Lucas to herself because their complicated relationship opened doors to questions that led to too many things she didn’t want to talk about. “It’s not something I’m ready to talk about.” Like the fact she hated to be treated like a weak female. And she hated the way she noticed how he smelled like soap and outdoors.

  “But you have a brother.”

  “It didn’t seem relevant.”

  He tipped his head and leaned closer, curiosity arching his eyebrow. “He’s in my battalion? Who is he? Maybe—”

  “He’s dead, Lucas.” She stared at the center of the steering wheel, tears she usually didn’t shed kicking at her eyes. “A sniper killed him.”

  Lucas’s hand fell from the door. “When?” Something in his voice was tight, like he’d wound the words around one of those old-fashioned tops and was waiting to pull the string.

  “About four months ago.”

  “Kyle Coleman?”

  She winced, her brother’s name in Lucas’s mouth like crossing two universes. It was part of the reason she’d never mentioned Kyle to him in the first place. The two pieces of her life didn’t mesh. “Yes.” She reached for the door and grabbed the handle. “I have to go. I’ll—I’ll see you later.” This was too much. Her brother. Lucas. Feeling.

  He backed away and let her slam the door with a little too much force, even though he acted like he had so much more to say.

  Kristin wrenched the key in the ignition and jammed her SUV into Reverse. Lucas thought some crazy guy with her house key was a problem. As far as she was concerned, the biggest danger in her life right now was letting her emotions get tangled with Lucas Murphy.

  * * *

  Lucas stared at his computer screen, reading the Record of Emergency Data for Specialist Kyle Coleman, unable to deny what he saw. Coleman’s sister listed as next of kin.

  Kristin James.

  Her name tensed every muscle in his body. Lucas wanted to pace the room, but that would draw the attention of his first sergeant and a CID agent who stood talking in the hall. Three agents had arrived after the soldiers left for lunch. With the events of the past couple of days, he’d forgotten Travis’s warning. Seemed like they were about to find out which of th
eir guys was in trouble...and why.

  Right now, though, he had to deal with his own problems. Now he had double the reason to downshift this attraction to Kristin. He wouldn’t date the sister of one of his soldiers, even one who was gone. It crossed too many lines, made things too volatile.

  Under cover of his desk, Lucas balled his fists and pressed them into his knees, thankful the men outside were engrossed in their conversation. He didn’t want to think about any of this, let alone talk about it with Travis or CID, not when he couldn’t fully explain her silence and his feelings to himself.

  Specialist Kyle Coleman had barely made the cut as a soldier. He’d made no secret of the fact he’d joined the army for the sign-up bonus, and he was broke more often than not. He’d found every way to skirt the rules and to flout authority. The kid had been a slacker, mouthy and disrespectful. So much so that he’d been busted down a rank and had to work his way to specialist all over again, a slow climb due to continued borderline behavior. Coleman had spent about a month in Lucas’s platoon before getting sent to the S1 shop, working in the mail room. He’d been nothing but trouble...

  Until a bullet found him while he was on guard duty.

  Specialist Coleman had done a lot of things, but nothing deserved death, especially not at the hands of a cowardly terrorist.

  Lucas scrubbed the back of his neck. Why hadn’t Kristin told him? Seemed easy enough. “You’re in the First of the 504th? So was my brother. Small world, huh?” Keeping quiet made no sense, unless she hadn’t realized they were in the same unit. The possibility was remote. The information hadn’t surprised her, and if she’d sent her brother mail, she’d have written the unit designation right on the envelope. It made no—

  Three taps on the metal door frame jerked him to attention. Travis and the CID agent stood there, watching him.

  Travis stepped into the room first. “You busy?” The silent question he fired Lucas’s way was stronger. What’s wrong?