A SOLDIER’S SECRET

Kristin James’s morning run turns deadly when she’s attacked by a stranger who’s after something her deceased soldier brother stole overseas. Her neighbor Sergeant First Class Lucas Murphy steps in to help her and won’t let her brush the attack under the rug. He’ll do everything he can to keep Kristin alive, but he can’t tell her that he’s under orders to investigate her link to her brother’s misdeeds. Kristin has no idea what the bad guy is after and doesn’t want to believe that her brother wasn’t on the straight and narrow. But as evidence against him piles up, can they catch the criminals without becoming the next casualties?

“The cavalry has arrived.”

Adding to her sarcastic comment, she looked at him as if he was the last person she wanted to see.

Didn’t she realize a man had nearly choked her and shoved her back into a tree hard enough to break her? He stepped closer. “Are you okay?”

She waved a hand, anger darkening her eyes. “I’m fine. Now, if you’re done playing the hero, I’m going to finish my run.” She started past Lucas with nonchalance, as if some assailant hadn’t just thrown her around like a rag doll.

He stepped into her path, his arms crossed over his chest. “You can’t pretend nothing happened here. The police are on their way.”

Everything about her hardened, from her expression to her posture. “You had no right to call them.”

Something flittered across his flesh, a chill, an instinct. Whatever he called it, it was what had kept him alive in the desert.

This woman was hiding something.

And he had to find out...before it got her killed.

Dear Reader,

First off, I would like to say that my brother is nothing like Kyle Coleman.

This book was a little bit different than any other suspense, because I usually start with a crime and then build in characters and their faith. This time, Kristin came along and demanded to be put in a story. Of course she did. Would you expect her to do anything different? I knew she’d had pain. I knew her life had been tragic.

And I knew her brother was not the good guy who only looked guilty.

That was tough. What do we do when people aren’t who we thought they were? When we have to face that there is fault in all of us, even in the people we love? Kristin had to face those questions head-on. Why? Because we all have to face them at some point. And it is our relationship with our Savior that determines whether we face those moments with grace or with devastation.

Me? I don’t know where I’d be without Jesus. And like Kristin, I find surrender hard. Every day I find it hard. I like to do things my own way, to take care of things myself. Is anybody else nodding their head right now, or is it just me?

The one thing I’ve found is this... Surrender doesn’t mean life becomes this giant la-la happy land of roses. But it does make the hard days easier. I meant when I said I don’t know where I’d be without Jesus. Because when I look back on the hard times, I don’t see pain. I see Him. I see the people He placed in my life. I feel His presence. And I know I never was alone, not even for one moment.

The very thing that Kristin had to learn.

And I feel compelled to ask... Are you there yet?

Thank you so much for running the race with Kristin and Lucas. (Fun story about Lucas—that wasn’t his name at first. But when I tried to type his story with his original name, he refused to show up on the page. Kept insisting he was Lucas and refusing to talk. Stubborn man.) I hope you’ll stop by and visit me at www.jodiebailey.com or, if you’re curious to see if the pictures in your head match the pictures in mine, you’ll drop by Pinterest and check out the story boards there. And I always love to hear from you at Jodie@jodiebailey.com.

Thanks again for reading. I’m honored.

Jodie Bailey

JODIE BAILEY writes novels about freedom and the heroes who fight for it. Her novel Crossfire won a 2015 RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She is convinced a camping trip to the beach with her family, a good cup of coffee and a great book can cure all ills. Jodie lives in North Carolina with her husband, her daughter and two dogs.

Dead Run

Jodie Bailey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

—John 16:33

To my brother Matt, my first best friend.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Kristin James jumped sideways, one foot sliding on the gray dirt as she tried to catch her footing on the rough running trail around Smith Lake on the outskirts of Fort Bragg. “For real?” She threw up her hands, but the mountain biker blasted past, nearly driving her into the woods.

The rider didn’t acknowledge her as he rounded the bend ahead and kept going, the whir of his tires fading among the pine trees.

“Share the road!” She yelled one more angry rebuke for good measure. Seriously.

Rotating her foot to make sure her ankle wasn’t twisted, she stepped onto the trail and picked up speed again, the adrenaline from her near miss amping her heart rate better than the first mile of her run already had.

The All-American Marathon was the next month, and if she was going to maintain her time, she’d better push her training until the runners hit the start line in downtown Fayetteville.

And hope nobody else burst out of the thick pine trees to run her over.

The early-morning Carolina breeze whispered in the pines, mild for March but more bearable than the summer. Other than her “friend” on the mountain bike, she hadn’t seen another soul on the trail. Exactly how she liked it.

A cracking noise around a curve ahead slowed her pace, and she wrinkled her forehead, her steps slowing.

The mountain biker roared around the curve, heading directly toward her.

What was he thinking?

The rider, his face covered by a gray ski mask, ground into the brakes as he neared, the rear end of the bike skidding sideways. The motion threw dirt and gravel on Kristin as she stumbled backward. Taking advantage of her unsteadiness, the rider reached out and shoved her out of the way.

Kristin fought to recover but fell hard to one knee, sticks and pine straw shredding into her skin. She scrambled to her feet and stalked toward the daredevil, who’d dropped the bike in the middle of the trail and stood eyeing her like he was ready for whatever challenge she threw at him.

Well, he’d gotten a bigger challenge than he’d anticipated. Kristin skirted the discarded bike and stopped arm’s length away, sizing up her adversary. He wasn’t much taller than she was, likely a gym rat, the kind of guy who wanted everybody to know his workout routine and to marvel at how he’d built a body by weight machine. He probably skipped leg day, too.

He wore gray cargo shorts, an odd choice for a mountain biker. A tattooed snake wound around his leg from ankle to knee, fangs bared and dripping vivid red blood. Yeah, leg day wasn’t this guy’s favorite, and he tried to cover it with the scary tat. Nice.

If she’d had a card with her, she’d have flicked it in his face and told him what a good personal trainer could do for him. On second thought, she’d never liked his type as a client. Especially not since he was cocky enough to think running a woman off the trail was a viable way to get her attention. “What is your problem?”

A slow grin tipped the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t amusement flickering in his eyes. It was more like...determination. “No problem. Least not for me.”

The way he said the words jangled memories in a pulse straight to her feet, driving her backward.

No. Kristin retreated from no man. Instead, she squared her shoulders, taking the offensive. “Watch where you’re going. And don’t come near me again.”

She stepped over the rear tire of his bike and moved to start running again.

A heavy arm hooked around her waist and jerked her backward against a chest as hard as steel, lifting her off the ground. A beefy hand clamped over her mouth, twisting her head painfully to the side.

Kristin fought a rising panic. No one had laid a hand on her in years, but the memory bit, drawing long-buried fear with it.

He’s not my father.

But he likely had more nefarious intentions than knocking any supposed disrespect out of her.

This kind of thing didn’t happen to her. It just didn’t. She was the one who taught women how to bring their inner strength out. She wasn’t the one who was attacked on an early-morning trail run, a statistic for the six o’clock news.

Kristin tried to pull away, but the way he’d twisted her head to the side strained her neck and made movement virtually impossible.

Hot breath grazed her ear. “You scream and I’ll make sure you never make another sound again. We’re going to talk about your brother, Kyle, whether you like it or not.” He jerked harder, and her neck screamed in protest.

Her brother? Kyle had been dead for months, killed by a sniper in Iraq. Given their years of estrangement and her brother’s sorry track record for communicating, she would be the last one to have answers anyway.

Kristin scrambled for a plan, a way out. She dropped her struggle and went limp, judging his hold. What weapons did she have left on her body? She couldn’t reach his instep or his throat...none of the vulnerable spots she’d learned in self-defense classes. And if she fought too hard from her current position, the likelihood of him breaking her neck was high.

There was one option.

With all of her remaining strength, she bent her leg and drove her heel back, catching her captor in the knee. The drive caught solid bone, and he roared, his hold releasing as he regrouped.

Kristin’s feet thudded onto the ground, and one skipped out from under her on loose pine needles, driving her to the dirt. She ought to run, but if he pursued on the bike, she’d never be able to get far.

No, she had to fight. Turning on him, she balled her fists and prepared to throw every weapon in her arsenal.

He charged and drove her into a tree, the rough bark digging at her shoulder blade through her thin running shirt.

It took a moment to absorb the blow, but Kristin fought, swinging her hands between his to break his hold. She landed on her feet and advanced as he staggered, driving the heel of her hand into his nose.

There was a thud, and blood soaked the gray ski mask.

The murderous intent vanished as he stumbled and cupped his face, pain erasing his anger. With one more look, he fled, running for the head of the trail with Kristin in pursuit.

Until the sound of running feet from behind had her whirling around to face the next attacker.

* * *

Sergeant First Class Lucas Murphy picked up speed, and his running shoes slipped on loose pine needles, threatening to take him down. He’d come around a corner in the trail in time to see a man shove a woman against a tree...and in time to see her school him in the finer points of self-defense.

Behind him, Travis Heath ran close on his heels. “You take the guy. I’ll check on the woman.” He hooked a left toward the woman and let Lucas pass.

Lucas pushed on, fighting to keep the fleeing man in sight as he cut through trees toward the parking lot. He couldn’t overcome the head start, though, and stopped, helpless, at the edge of the woods as a red pickup spit dirt and roared toward the main road.

Adrenaline and the sudden stop forced his lungs to heave oxygen. His heart pounded from exertion and frustration. With his training, he should have been able to catch a hurting unit like the one the woman on the trail had sent packing. Even from a distance, it was clear her counterattack had the guy running in pain.

That took a special kind of moxie.

He fired off a quick call to the military police to report the incident, then turned and jogged through the trees, eager to meet the woman who’d fended off a man almost twice her size.

Although he was pretty sure he already knew her.

“I said I’m fine.” The woman’s shout bounced off the trees. If she was still in fight mode, she might be giving Travis a hard time.

Despite the seriousness of what he’d witnessed, Lucas couldn’t help but grin as he scrambled over a tree trunk. If a woman came at Travis, he wouldn’t fight her. And the beating a woman who could fight like this one would give him would be worth quite a bit of laughter at his buddy’s expense if any of the guys in the battalion ever found out about it.

Sure enough, when Lucas broke through the trees to the trail, Travis was standing about ten feet from the woman, both hands in the air. “I promise we’re the good guys.”

“Then stand down and prove it.” Her back was to Lucas, but he’d know her anywhere. Her chin-length dark hair was held back in a headband, and the way she’d planted her hands on her hips was a familiar stance whenever she wanted to assert authority.

“Kristin?”

Kristin James whipped around like she was ready to fight again, but her posture sagged when she recognized him. Those eyes, so blue they were shocking under her dark hair, caught his.

They never failed to stop him dead whenever he saw them. Lucas had moved in across the street from her in Haymount two months ago, after his last deployment ended. Unable to live on base because of his rank, he’d been thrilled to find the older two-bedroom rental off Bragg Boulevard. The place needed a little work, but it kept him busy. After Kristin kicked his rear in a half marathon the week after he moved in, they’d started running together in the mornings.

Kristin appeared more than a little relieved. “The cavalry. What are you doing here? And who’s this guy?” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Travis, who acted like he’d walked into the middle of an absurd comedy.

Lucas couldn’t blame him. There was something seriously strange about a woman who could face what Kristin had and then act like this meeting was a friendly encounter on her morning run. Must be a coping mechanism.

If it helped her to play this game, he would, too, at least until the police arrived and took over. “My buddy Travis. We were getting a run in before the duty day starts.” The whole encounter felt stilted. He couldn’t do it. After seeing the way she’d been shoved into a tree, he couldn’t pretend life was sunshine and roses, even if that was her way of dealing. He dropped the charade and edged toward her, heel sinking in loose dirt on the edge of the trail. “Are you okay? He got a pretty good shot in before—”

“I’m fine.” She bit the words into two bitter halves. Shaking her head like a mosquito was buzzing her, Kristin inhaled and her face settled into some weird, unnatural calm. “If you two are done playing the hero types, I’m going to finish my run. I’ve got three personal training clients today. I’ll see you later.” She started to move past Lucas with a nonchalance that couldn’t possibly be real, as though some stranger hadn’t thrown her around like a rag doll. The rough treatment was bound to hurt, but he’d noticed before the way Kristin hid behind a strong facade. This might be taking strength a little too far.

Lucas blocked her path, arms crossed over his chest. His next words might make her throw a few blows his way. She was a take-charge woman, always calling the shots when they trained together. She wasn’t going to like him taking the lead. “You can’t pretend nothing happened. You need to get checked out, make sure you aren’t hurt, file a report. The police are on the way.”

Sure enough, everything about her hardened, from her expression to her posture. “I’m fine. It was bound to happen sooner or later with me running alone out here. As for the police, shouldn’t that have been my decision?” Kristin tried to push past him.

Lucas refused to budge. “You can take care of yourself. Got it. What about the next woman he targets? He left his mountain bike behind, and there are bound to be fingerprints. Don’t you want the cops to find him before he tries again on a woman who can’t shove him into a world of hurt?”

“He won’t target—” Kristin turned her head and stared into the pine trees weaving gently in the wind. Finally, she sighed. “Fine. I’ll wait in the parking lot.” Without looking at either Lucas or Travis, she jogged away with only the slightest hitch to indicate she suffered any pain.

His instincts said she was hiding something. Lucas started to go after her but stopped. They might have formed a friendship, but it wasn’t strong enough to force her to let him in. He’d wait until she put some distance between them then follow to make sure her attacker didn’t swing around to try again.

Travis whistled low behind him. “We could’ve used that kind of grit in the platoon on this last deployment. She’s got serious cool under fire.”

Lucas kept his back to his buddy as he started a slow jog after Kristin, keeping her in sight. Sure, she was handling this well right now, but what would happen later?

And what was she not telling him?

TWO

Kristin’s heart pounded, and it wasn’t from exertion. That man had known who she was...had known who her brother, Kyle, was. This wasn’t random, and until she figured out why, she wasn’t telling the police or anyone else.

Kyle had spent his life in trouble. They’d spent the past decade apart, estranged after tragedy ripped their family into pieces, but he’d returned when he was stationed at Bragg, physically present even though his heart wasn’t always in the game. He’d grown more distant after he deployed, though. Kristin had thought it was the stress of being overseas, but when he’d come home on R & R a few weeks before he died, something else was going on. He’d roamed the house at all hours, doing projects and generally not speaking, stoic like their father.

Their father.

Everything in her wanted to duck behind a tree and curl into a ball, maybe even lose what was left of the breakfast bar she’d crammed down before her run. No one had manhandled her in years, not since the night her father had pulled a knife on her mother, held the blade to Kristin’s throat, then slashed his own wrists.

Cold sweat sheened her hot skin. Her attacker was no threat. She wouldn’t let him be. Kristin had enough confidence in her physical condition to take on most men who didn’t suspect her of being capable. But the memories? They threatened to bring on a full-fledged panic attack.

And she didn’t panic. Ever.

Drawing in lungfuls of cool morning air, she tried to find comfort in the rhythm of her feet on the trail. Left, right, left, right. Breathe. It was over. If this guy returned, she could handle him.

And her father was dead. He couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

But he sure did have a way of reaching out of the grave to reignite her grief. Grief that had intensified when a sniper’s bullet found her brother in Iraq.

Kristin scanned the trees, trying to find something, anything to focus on. The sky, the breeze, the chilled morning air...anything but what lay behind her, emotionally and physically.

Without turning around, Kristin knew Lucas and his friend would be close. From the brief couple of months they’d been running together, she had no doubt. Lucas was the kind who would protect even when he wasn’t wanted.

She absolutely hated the comfort she felt. Knowing someone had her back unwound the tension. The smallest sliver inside wanted to stop and let them catch up, to not be alone.

That was scarier than anything else. In the face of the morning’s events, seeing Lucas without time to prepare herself had sent a shudder through her insides. Every time they ran together, she’d had to school herself not to notice the way he made running seem effortless, the way his biceps peeked out from the sleeves of his T-shirt.

Man, she hated reacting to him. She usually didn’t have a reaction to any guy at all. She’d always managed to stay detached, never engaging emotionally. She’d never had the dream of getting married, not after watching her parents claw and fight their way through their nasty, alcohol-fueled relationship. They’d stayed together out of some twisted kind of passion for one another. It was good in spurts. But when the passion flamed into anger, it was ugly for everybody within fist’s reach.

Things in their family had grown uglier after her mother got sober and walked out when Kristin was sixteen, fighting to make life better for her children. But her father came at them again and again, was arrested and released over and over. Not even the law could save them. Her father had violated restraining orders until the day he ended everything.

That was all the proof Kristin needed. Being on fire for anybody was a bad thing. Emotions out of control led to lives out of control. She’d never wanted any part of feelings like those, had always avoided them.

But when it came to Lucas...he was a tough man to resist, and she’d tried her best. Those deep brown eyes had seen something inside her from the moment they’d crossed paths during a local half marathon and silently battled to the finish. Kristin had edged him out at the tape, but the conversation with Lucas after—and the realization he was responsible for the moving truck on her street a few days earlier—had solidified a friendship played out in long runs through their neighborhood when Kristin didn’t run solo on the trails.

Runs that gradually grew longer as they started to talk. Surface things at first, but lately she’d come dangerously close to feeding him information about her past. He’d layered something soothing over her heart, something that touched her insides every time she talked to him, edging closer to things she’d never shared with anyone else. They’d never done anything but train together, yet he made her feel like allowing someone else inside her head was a good thing.

And everything had to stop. The morning’s brutal reminder of her father’s cruelty coupled with the mention of her brother tore at her, chased her, drove her heart into hiding. Her feet pounded harder, her breathing growing more ragged as emotions drove the pace until she couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t even hear the outside world over the thumping of her pulse in her ears. By the time she hit the parking lot, her whole body hammered in time with her heartbeat. She’d pushed too hard, but the emotional and physical cleansing had been worth it.

Slowing to a fast walk, Kristin scanned the area, glancing under her car in the distance to make sure no one was beneath it. She shook it off, glancing at the head of the trail.

Two military police vehicles stood blocking the entrance.

Kristin wanted to turn and run into the woods. Since the night her mother had been murdered, she’d avoided the police, even drove like a grandmother to wipe out any possibility of a speeding ticket. The thought of answering their pointed, dispassionate questions swirled bile in her stomach.

Besides, talking to them wouldn’t change a thing. The justice system hadn’t saved her mother.

She wouldn’t talk to them. Lucas had made the call. He’d seen as much as she had, and he could do the talking.

Kristin whirled toward the woods, but only got an eyeful of Lucas and Travis coming off the trail.

Trapped. There was nowhere to go. Kristin marched for her small green SUV, wishing she were invisible, guilt biting at her heels. Lucas was right. Even though the man had mentioned Kyle, with her brother dead, they certainly couldn’t ask him for his real motives. She ought to at least give a description to the police in case he tried to go after a woman who couldn’t feed him his nose for breakfast.

Not that it would do any good to involve the law.

The debate raged as she stared at her SUV parked at the edge of the lot, but her feet slowed. Something wasn’t right. There was no reflection from the driver’s window. Surely she hadn’t rolled it down.

Ignoring her rapidly tightening muscles, she jogged to her SUV, slowing as she neared. The window was shattered, glass littering the driver’s seat. She punched the unlock code into the keypad and rounded the vehicle, ripping the passenger door open and scrambling across the seat. She jerked open the console to stare inside. Her wallet was where she always left it, but her keys were gone.

She dropped back, staring at the space where they’d been. That man had asked about her brother. Probably knew where she lived. And now he had her house keys. For the first time, the magnitude of the attack tackled her.

Feet pounded behind her. She didn’t have to turn to know whom they belonged to. While she wanted to drop to the ground beside the car and curl into a fetal position, she swallowed her fears and stiffened her posture as she turned to meet Lucas Murphy head-on. “You can tell your cop friends someone stole my keys.”

Behind him, Travis waved at the officers and detoured, jogging toward the military policemen at the head of the trail.

Lucas’s eyebrow lifted. “Your keys were in your car?”

“It has a keypad lock. I lock them in when I run. It’s better than dropping them in the woods somewhere.” She slid out of the car and angled away from him, balling her fists and staring at the trees bordering the parking lot.

He was too close. His brown eyes too dark, his muscles beneath his T-shirt toned after his stint slogging through the desert overseas. The last thing she wanted to think about was how tempting it would be to let those arms hold her right now.

She ripped the headband from her hair and dragged her fingers through the tangle, probably standing it on end. She didn’t care. This day had skidded into a ditch, and it wasn’t even seven in the morning. Attacked on the trail. Stranded with only Lucas or the cops as her options for rescue. A strange man with her house keys.

Really. It couldn’t get any worse.

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.

FOUR

With Casey close behind, Kristin flipped on the floodlights and shoved through the door onto the low deck, the evening chill a stark contrast to the warmth inside.

Two men were locked in battle at the corner of the house, one besting the other.

A very familiar one besting the other. This couldn’t be happening. None of this could be happening. Heart hammering, Kristin jumped the steps into the yard. “What is going on here?”

The masked man Lucas had pinned by the chest to the privacy fence took advantage of the momentary distraction. Twisting sideways and throwing his elbow up, he caught Lucas in the chin, relaxing the hold enough to duck and run for the front yard.

Casey bolted into the house. “I’m on it.”

“Casey, don’t.” Too late. She’d already disappeared. That drive to be helpful was going to be her downfall someday.

As Kristin gathered herself and joined the pursuit, Lucas ran for the gate, pounding his palm against the rough wood as tires screeched on a side street two houses away. When he turned toward Kristin, the shadows in the side yard cast a fierce mask over his countenance, deepening his eyes and highlighting the strong set of his jaw.

The sight of him almost drove Kristin back, but the fear zinging through her had nothing to do with the man and everything to do with her reaction. Lucas Murphy was gradually inching a hold around her heart.

And he’d been knee-deep in two questionable situations on the same day. With her emotions tangled and the other threat gone, everything focused on Lucas, Kristin’s brain spinning too fast to acknowledge the enormity of what was truly happening.

Kristin squared her shoulders, half to take authority and half to warn her galloping heartbeat that now was not the time. Lucas couldn’t continue to jump in to save her. She didn’t need it. Didn’t want it. Couldn’t he grasp she could handle this? “What are you doing here?”

He ought to look like a sheepish little boy caught stealing from his grandmother’s cookie jar. Instead, he tipped his chin in defiance and strode closer with an air of belonging, his shoulders squared like he was ready to do battle all over again, this time with her. “I’m making short work of the guy who tried to break into your house.”

She wasn’t sure what spiked her blood pressure more—someone trying to violate her life for the third time in one day, or Lucas playing witness and would-be protector. They were supposed to be casual acquaintances, borderline friends, not some damsel in distress and her knight in shining armor. “I can take care of myself. Casey and I were both here, and I’m—”

“Not being very vigilant.”

Her body stiffened so fast it brought on an instant tension headache. The fear and anger at the people trying to infiltrate her life focused like a laser on the closest target in range. “I’m starting to wonder if you are absolutely nothing short of bad news.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means my life was perfectly, absolutely sane until you showed up in it. We’ve been training together for two months, and before then, no one ever tried to attack me or break into my house. You want to talk about threats? You know my routine almost better than I do. You know the trails I run on the days you and I don’t run together. So tell me, Lucas...this morning? Right now? Right place, right time? Or is this some half-cocked effort to—”

His eyes widened, and if it were possible, they’d have shot fire. “You think I have something to do with this?”

“If the shoe fits.”

Casey jogged out the door onto the deck, deflecting some of the tension. “Lost the guy. Got a partial plate.” She planted her hands on her hips, watching the tennis match between Kristin and Lucas. “Want me to call the—”

“No.” Kristin turned away from the man who somehow managed to nudge guilt around the edges of her emotions. They might not be best buds, but she knew him well enough to know he wasn’t the kind of creep she was implying he was. Sure, common sense said she ought to suspect him, but her mind knew better.

It would be impossible to face him with her accusation hanging in the air. She took two steps onto the deck toward Casey. “No cops. They won’t do anything. They can’t.” She kept right on talking, trying to stop the argument she knew Casey was putting together. “My house. My rules. No cops.” She couldn’t get a restraining order against a man whose name she didn’t even know, and it hadn’t helped her mother to have one anyway. Nor could she expect an officer to sit outside her house in case somebody tried to break in again. She was trained. She was strong. She was fearless. It was a trifecta she trusted.

“You’re being foolish, Kris.” Lucas’s voice came from behind her, closer this time.

Her skin chilled at the nickname in his deep voice, too much like the way her father used to say it. “It’s Kristin.” She turned to offer a half apology, to tell him he might not be a stalker but he definitely wasn’t her hero. The words never formed.

He’d edged closer, a few feet away at the bottom of the steps, fully illuminated by the floodlights. Blood ran from the corner of his right eye, and a red spot marred his chin where a bruise would likely form tomorrow. He’d put himself in the line of fire...for her.

She couldn’t yell at him then send him packing after he’d put himself between her and danger twice. Kristin hated herself for being soft. For noting the way his eyes had gold flecks in them, the way he stood like he had all the authority in the world, not with a challenge, but in a way that made her feel protected.

It also made the guilt from accusing him twist even harder. That couldn’t be left out there, pulling tight between them. Kristin blew her bangs out of her face and stared at a spot on the fence over Lucas’s shoulder. “Listen. I’m sorry. What I said earlier... I know you’re not—”

“I know.” Lucas didn’t even let her finish, probably understanding the way the unfamiliar apology stuck in her throat. He knew her too well, was probably nicer than she deserved.

She sliced the air with her hands, helpless to hold on to her anger and the distance she desperately needed to put between herself and Lucas.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she could pull away, call a halt to this building friendship before the feelings grew until they scorched her into ashes. Before she turned into her mother and lost everything to a complete, emotion-fueled fall from grace. “Get inside before you bleed all over your shirt.”

Near the door, Casey cleared her throat. “I’m going to go...” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, flustered by something Kristin couldn’t even begin to imagine. “Inside. Somewhere. And be...inside.” She slipped through the door and disappeared into the house, probably calling the police against Kristin’s wishes.

Kristin sighed and looked down at Lucas, surrendering the fight. “I guess you’re going to tell me I should see the other guy, huh?”

“It’s a wonder he was able to walk away,” Lucas said as he quirked a half smile, avoiding movement on the injured side of his face but lighting the eyes Kristin was trying hard not to notice. “You know, I had him till someone distracted me.”

Kristin rolled her eyes and ignored the flicker of fear threatening to flame up. Regardless of anything else, someone had been in her backyard. But she was fearless, right? She flicked her hand toward the door. “Get in the house. And stop talking before I decide to bruise your other cheek.” She turned and headed for the door, her heart hammering.

Letting Lucas Murphy in might be even more dangerous than any stranger trying to invade her home.

* * *

Lucas followed Kristin into the kitchen, clenching and unclenching his fists. He’d seen the fear flash on her face, understood better than anyone how it could toy with thoughts and make them completely whacked. There had been times when he’d felt that edge himself overseas, maybe even bordered a little on paranoid, particularly after one of their soldiers was killed by a sniper while on guard duty. But being on the receiving end of Kristin’s suspicion had been worse than any blow his opponent had thrown earlier.

It still stung, even after her apology, something that had to be hard for her “no surrender” self. But as soon as she’d shown that small crack, she’d rebuilt the wall, acting once again like she could control the whole world.

She walked ahead of him, not waiting to see if he followed, her posture arrow straight. Her attitude made Lucas want to grab her shoulder and stop her, to turn her around and force a confrontation, to ask if she really had so little trust in him.

Except, really, what right did he have to ask? Whether it hurt or not, in her position he might have fired off some of the same questions. He surveyed the kitchen, searching for something, anything to focus on long enough to stem the chaos roiling in his head.

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 their 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?

Nothing he wanted to discuss. He stood and turned to the stranger at Travis’s side. “Sergeant First Class Lucas Murphy.”

“Major Randall Draper.” The agent dipped a chin. “Murphy. You get a lot of flak for that name?”

Too much. “Private Murphy’s Law” was a well-known comic strip about army life, and Murphy’s Laws of Combat had been around forever. While both were spot-on, Lucas had grown tired of the comparison. He faked a smile and hoped it looked real. “More than I ever wanted.”

The major grinned, then dropped the humor just as fast. “It’s time we filled you in on what’s going on in the battalion.”

Lucas aimed a finger at a nearby chair and sank into his own. Right now was the time to shut the lid on his personal life box and open the professional one. Whatever was happening, the look on the major’s face said it was serious. Lucas braced himself.

Draper wasted no time, speaking before he’d even settled into the chair. He swept a hand over his dark hair. “Over the years, you’ve probably heard how we’ve had some issues with missing antiquities in Iraq. Civilians, contractors, even a few of our guys grabbing art and small artifacts as souvenirs or to sell off. We started checking equipment coming back, caught a few guys bringing things in rucksacks and Conex containers, but it’s been mostly small stuff, souvenirs, innocent pilfering. Illegal, yes, but nothing on the level of a smuggling ring.”

“Something escalated?” Lucas glanced at Travis, who sat stone-faced, probably hearing this for the second time. “What’s this got to do with our guys?”

“Some of the items have shown up on the black market, been advertised on the dark web. We picked up chatter from your area of operations and traced it to some computers on your forward operating base. Some pretty valuable items were brokered when you guys were deployed, and some had multiple buyers for the same item. There’s a lot we’re still deciphering, but someone in this battalion was the deliveryman. The items weren’t large—some vases, a few sculptures—but they have value and are highly collectible. They were never delivered, and we believe they’re in the States somewhere. We’re interested in the specialist who was killed on guard duty near the end of the tour.”

Lucas schooled his reaction, calling on every trick he’d ever devised to keep his face impassive. Kristin’s brother. Kristin...whom he had seen handing off a package to another soldier.

His gut clenched like he’d run a twenty-miler without hydrating first. No. Please, God. Please let this all be a huge misunderstanding.

Draper nodded, unaware of the war going on inside Lucas, but it was Travis who spoke. “They’re not prepared to say Coleman was involved, but his death was unusual.”

“How?” Lucas’s voice was tight, a rubber band ready to snap.

Travis noticed, but he only arched an eyebrow.

Draper stared at something outside the window. “Blood spatter at the scene indicated he was shot by someone inside the forward operating base.”

“And we’re just hearing this now?” There was no reason to hide the anger. CID knew the shooting was from inside their FOB and no one had told them there might be danger?

“Active investigation.”

Lucas slammed his palm on the desk, but a quick cough from Travis stopped him from unleashing on a ranking officer. Major Draper was merely the messenger. There was no reason to invite trouble by letting his anger loose now. His mind raced. Kristin’s brother might have been murdered by one of their own, and she might be involved. This had to be a nightmare. “You think Coleman was involved and it got him killed?”

“It’s a distinct possibility.” Major Draper hardly batted an eye. “Since he was in your platoon for a short time before he went to Sergeant Heath’s platoon, we wanted anything you might remember. Anything would be helpful.”

“I can’t think of much,” Travis said. “Coleman wasn’t fun, but nothing said he was doing anything like you’re suggesting.”

Lucas wrestled his anger into place and recounted what he could remember, with Travis furnishing additional details. “Honestly? Other than being a slacker, nothing stood out about Coleman.” He kept his eyes off the computer screen. Nothing stood out until now.

Travis sat forward, resting a hand on the edge of Lucas’s desk. “What are you not saying?” He’d always been able to read Lucas, ever since the first day they’d met at Ranger School. Being stationed together at Bragg had contributed to a company that worked well because the platoon sergeants knew each other, respected each other and could tell what the other was thinking.

Lucas addressed Travis. “It’s Kristin.”

“What about her?”

“Kristin James?” Major Draper sat straighter. “You know her?”

“She’s my neighbor.” Lucas turned the computer screen toward Travis. “She’s Coleman’s sister.”

“You didn’t know?” Travis turned from the screen to Lucas.

“Didn’t even know she had a brother until today.” His gut dropped clear to his boots. He didn’t want to say what he had to say next. “She was here earlier.”

Draper’s eyes narrowed. “To see you?”

Lucas ground his teeth together, unsure what to say. If Kristin was innocent, she didn’t need Lucas casting suspicion on her. If she was guilty...

No. He was certain she was innocent. She had to be.

“Who was she here to see, Sergeant?”

“Specialist Lacey.” Lucas braced, waiting to see if Draper reacted to the name.

Draper didn’t flinch as he keyed something into his phone. “Know why?” He didn’t look up, just kept his thumb poised and ready to type.

Lucas stood, trying to get on level ground with the other man. What he was about to say looked bad. Really bad. “Dropping off a package.” He held out a hand as the other men’s heads lifted. “Something her brother mailed to her for Lacey. I’m certain—”

“Certain what, Sergeant?” Draper lowered his phone. “Certain she can’t be a criminal because you’re friends?”

“With all due respect, I think questioning Sergeant Murphy is pointless, sir.” Travis stood and stared down at the major, coming awfully close to being insubordinate. “He’s a good judge of character. They know each other well.”

Lucas tried not to flinch. That made everything sound so...trashy.

Draper was clearly thinking the same thing. He stood and slipped his phone into his pocket, pinning Lucas with a hard glare. “Sergeant, I’m pretty sure I don’t have to tell you to keep your mouth shut around this girl. In fact, I’m pretty sure we don’t need to talk about having contact with her at all.”

Lucas stiffened. Surely the major wasn’t about to tell him to cut ties. He couldn’t. What if CID was right and her brother was involved in something out-of-bounds? “Sir, Kristin James was attacked yesterday. Kyle Coleman might be the reason, and someone needs to watch out for her.”

Travis interrupted, probably trying to defuse the tension flaring in the room. “Sir, Murphy is no fool. He also has Kristin James’s trust.”

Well, that was debatable.

Travis fired a pained look at Lucas, like he knew he might be about to cross a line. “Let him listen in.”

Had his friend volunteered him to spy on Kristin? Surely not.

Draper eyed Travis, ignoring Lucas. “He can stay close for now, but he’d better be careful. I need to talk to the commander about all of this.” He shot Lucas a loaded look and stalked out, clearly expecting Travis to follow.

Travis hesitated. “I’m sorry, man. It was the fastest way I could think of to keep him from ordering you away from her. Somebody’s got to have Kristin’s back, and her brother’s not here to do it.” He was gone before Lucas could respond.

Lucas dug his knuckles into his desk. He ought to be grateful Travis had buffered the conversation, but the whole day grated. Too many people in his business, bossing him around.

And Kristin lying to him.

His phone vibrated, and frustration drove him to jerk it from the desk. “Murphy.” He shot venom into the greeting, hoping whoever was calling would state their business quickly. If the lunch break wasn’t over, he’d change into his PTs and run a ten-miler with a fifty-pound ruck. Still wouldn’t blow enough steam.

“Lucas?” Kristin’s voice bled through the phone, weighted with something he couldn’t measure.

He dropped into his chair and blew out a deep breath laced with exasperation. This was the definition of thin ice. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine, but...” She exhaled loudly. “My car’s missing.”

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