nothing more we can do tonight. I’ll drive you to the Lodge.”
She shook her head, frustrated at being coddled by not only Colby but also the chief. “Thanks, but I can drive myself. Besides I’ll need my car in the morning.”
The half marathon had been organized as a way to foster good relations between the town and military community, one of a series of events scheduled for the upcoming year that had the post commanding general’s full support.
Colby smiled. “The least I can do is follow you home.”
She shook her head. “Really, it’s not necessary.”
Either the tone of her voice or her narrowed gaze caused him to take a step back.
He raised his hands, palms out, and shrugged. “Of course, you’re fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Colby turned and headed to his car, leaving her standing in the parking lot. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back and fisted her hands. For some reason, she hadn’t wanted him to leave.
THREE
Only a little farther!
Becca pushed harder, her focus on the finish line. One more hill to climb to complete the 13.1K run, her first competition since she had arrived at Fort Rickman.
The cheers of the people lining the streets melded into a single roar that accompanied her up the incline. At the crest of the hill, she sucked air into her lungs, appreciating her body’s response to the need for more oxygen.
The finish line lay fifty yards ahead.
Her time was good. Not good enough to win, but nothing to be ashamed of, either.
One last sprint. She kept her eyes on the goal. The Freemont running club official said something over the loudspeaker. Probably her number.
Her footfalls pounded the pavement.
Left, right, left, right...
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
Everything faded into a blur.
Push. Harder. Faster.
She broke across the finish. Cheers erupted around her. Her body relaxed, and her pace slowed. She loped through a roped-off chute that would take her to one of the running club volunteers.
“Rebecca.”
Someone from the sidelines called her name. A deep voice she knew too well. Fear tightened her spine.
She whipped her head to the right, the direction from which the voice had sounded, and stared into the crowd, searching for a face she would never forget. The face of a man—no, a monster—who had destroyed everything and everyone she had ever loved.
She scanned the bystanders—wives with babes in arms, parents and grandparents waving at their favorite runners, shopkeepers and community leaders supporting the town’s first attempt to host the sporting event.
Surely her ears were playing tricks on her.
She would never forget the deep, almost soothing quality of his voice that persuaded even those most determined not to succumb to his diabolical charm.
Evil packed in a handsome face and muscular body.
Goose bumps pimpled her flesh. Despite the exertion, she shivered.
Someone shoved a plastic cup into her hand. “Water?” the guy asked.
She switched her gaze to the man and his outstretched hand. An older gentleman with kindly eyes.
Not Jacob.
“Great run,” the man offering water enthused.
Nodding her appreciation, she took the cup and headed farther along the narrowing chute, still studying the crowd, unable to abandon her search.
She had heard Jacob’s voice.
A high school volunteer checked the clipboard in his hand and marked off her number.
He pointed her toward the refreshment area. “Sports drinks are available at the table ahead. Burgers and dogs are on the grill when you feel like eating.”
She downed the water, tossed the glass in a nearby trash receptacle and slipped through the crowd of those who had already finished the run.
“Good run.” Another voice, one she also recognized.
She turned to see Colby approaching her, his angular face still flushed. His group had started ahead of hers.
“With so many runners, I didn’t think I’d see you this morning.” His smile was warm, but his eyes were serious as if he were searching her face for some sign of weakness. He’d worn the same intense expression last night when he’d found her on the knoll immediately after the explosion.
“No reason to pass up a good race,” she offered, hoping he wouldn’t push for details.
“You were pretty worn out last night. You should have slept in.”
She reached for another cup of water on a nearby table. “I could say the same for you.”
He nodded. “You’re right, but no reason to pass up a race.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “You heard Chief Wilson last night,” she offered as further reason for participating today. “He wanted everyone to support the event.”
Once again, she flicked her gaze to the crowd. “Did you hear anything new from the fire marshal?”
“Only that he’ll check the site this morning. The Atlanta construction company provided the name of the project manager. Ralph Arnold.”
“The truck belonged to him?”
Colby nodded. “The Freemont chief of police asked for a court order to search the trailer he rented in town. They expect it to be signed by noon. I’ll head that way later this morning”
“Give me the address. I’ll meet you there.”
“No reason to take two cars.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at the Lodge, say at eleven o’clock. We can stop by your old BOQ first and still arrive at Arnold’s place ahead of the local police.”
Glancing at her watch, she nodded. “That works for me.”
Becca needed to buy a few items she’d lost in the fire, including a pair of flats to wear with the civilian clothes worn by the CID, instead of a military uniform.
Maybe Colby was right. She was pushing too hard, but it was the only way she knew how to operate. Move forward. Don’t look back. Don’t think of what could have been. Don’t allow anyone to get too close.
Then she glanced at Colby, seeing again that questioning lift
