Dead Running (18 page)

“B-but Raquel and the baby are okay?” The tremor in my voice echoed throughout the waiting room.

Jesse smiled softly at me. “Raquel and the baby are both doing great.”

I sniffed. Jesse opened his arms. I ignored Tasha’s raised eyebrow and fell. Clinging to him, I savored his musky scent. “Thank you for rescuing me, again.”

Jesse chuckled. “It’s becoming a habit.”

“Maybe I could pay you back somehow.”

He leaned close to me and whispered in my ear, “This is what friends do. Besides, fishing for my keys was payment enough.”

I hid my face in his chest to hide my reddened cheeks. Loving the feel of him. Comfort and so much more. This spot was becoming a sanctuary.
 

The next week I went through Jesse withdrawal. Neither he nor Damon appeared on the road. My only excitementElizabeth. Her bouncing tread approached me from behind early Monday morning. Hot Redhead sprinted to my side then slowed her pace to match mine. I tried to outrun her, I swear, but she wasn’t enough of a threat to increase my adrenaline. Especially when compared to Muscle Man. If I thought it was Muscle Man I would be sprinting and digging the pepper spray out of my sports bra.

“Hi, Cassie,” Elizabeth sang out.

My head swiveled to look at her in the murky pre-dawn. “Wow. We’re happy this morning. That’s a surprise.”

Her perfect pout tilted up. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “The race on Saturday was fun, huh?”
           
I caught a momentary scowl but it was there and gone before I could comment on it.

“I know something about you that’s going to make Damon want to keep his distance,” Elizabeth said with a smirk.

It was my turn to scowl. “You got nothing on me, chickie.”

Hot Redhead pumped her eyebrows. “Oh, I don’t?” Every word she spoke was like a song. I hated the lilt of her sweet soprano.

“So what do you think you can blackmail me with?” I chuckled to show how out of whack she was, at the same time searching my brain for some stupid move I’d accomplished lately.

Elizabeth paused to share her fake grin. I waited, wondering what she thought she could say to Damon that would keep him away from me. The thought twisted my gut. Even though I wanted to become more than friends with Jesse, I enjoyed dating Damon. I didn’t need her sabotaging it.

Elizabeth didn’t leave me in agony for long. “What about the fact that you urinated on yourself Saturday morning?”

I gasped, but covered it quickly. Staring at the dark road flowing under our feet, I said, “What are you spouting about now?”

“I thought you’d gone nuts after the race. I could not figure out why you would jump in that stream, but then it hit me.” She waited until I squinted at her before sharing a haughty grin. “Your shorts and legs were wet before you went for the stream. When you bent down to take off your shoes.” She held her nose. “You stunk. I thought at first it was sweat, but nobody sweats that muchespecially when it couldn’t have been over seventy.”

“You can’t prove anything,” I said. What would Damon think? Who would he believe?

“Your face will be all the proof I need.”

“So what?” I challenged, anger overcoming my fear. “Damon is impressed with how hard I push. How many runners can claim they’ve kicked it hard enough to pee on themselves?”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows arched. “Why would anyone
want
to claim that?”
 
She raced around me and called over her shoulder, “Have a good run, try not to have an accident.”

I shook a fist at her retreating back. Like I peed on myself daily. I felt like the little kid who gets caught wearing her grandma’s Depends at a sleepover and no, that never happened to me.

I watched Elizabeth prance down the semi-lit road. I knew she was right. Urinating down your own legs was nothing for any woman to brag about. Hot Redhead quickly disappeared from my view. Dang her.

*
         
*
         
*

Nana and Tasha both waited for Damon to appear Saturday night. I sat between them on the couch, uncomfortable, ready to be saved by my date. I hoped he’d still want to date me when Elizabeth revealed my bladder problems. What if she had already? My brain spun with excuses and funny comebacks. I couldn’t let Hot Redhead make Damon think I had the urinary control of an infant.

Nana’s knitting needles flew with her fingers. She pulled a length of yarn and said, “When are you going to stop this running nonsense?”

I stared from her to Tasha. This was why Nana wasn’t sitting in her chair.
 
This was why Tasha wasn’t out flirting with some man. This was why they’d sandwiched me. “Who says it’s nonsense?” I asked. I gave her an indignant, picked-on look. I could have sworn Nana had given approval. That she knew one of the reasons I was doing this marathon was so my dead parents could have a reason to brag about me to their angel buddies.

Nana shook her head and kept knitting. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve had passions before, but none of them were dangerous to your health.”

“Dangerous to my health?” I asked, shifting the ice pack I held against my knee underneath the couch cushions.

Nana pointed at the ice pack with her needle but said nothing.

“Come on, Cass,” Tasha piped in. “Damon is interested in you, not the fact that you’re running a marathon. You got the guy. It’s time to give up the dream.”

“I am not doing this for Damon.” I jumped to my feet. Rushing to the front window, I pushed the curtain aside and prayed for a low-slung silver car to arrive.

“You’re never going to be able to finish this,” Nana said. “Just like all those businesses you started. The charities you want to organize. The hobbies you pick up. You never finish anything. Stop now before you waste more time and get seriously injured.” She yanked the ice pack from the couch cushions and held it aloft as proof of her argument.

My shoulders rounded. My stomach ached. Was it too much to ask for my loved ones to believe in me?
Wait a minute
. I lifted my head. I’d spent the past week taking care of the one person who never ragged on me, or at least only cussed me with significant cause. “Raquel believes in me.”

Tasha snorted. “Raquel believes in the Easter Bunny.”

My eyes narrowed. “My parents would be proud of me.”

Nana exhaled and closed her eyes. “Raquel is only helping you so you won’t injure yourself worse than you already have. Jared thinks the entire thing is nonsense.” Setting my future afghan aside, Nana rose and crossed the room. “There are plenty of other things you can do that would make your parents proud, like your new personal training business.”

Tasha nodded in agreement then picked at her fingernail polish. She obviously didn’t want to be in on this intervention. But nobody said no to Nana.
Except me
. I straightened my shoulders.

“Tasha was right. You obviously started this for Damon.” Nana pointed out the front window. Damon strode confidently up our walk. The sight of him was like a stone in my stomach instead of a flutter. What would he think if I gave up? What would Jesse think if I gave up?

“He likes you for you, Cassie,” Nana said, patting me on the arm. “You don’t have to kill your body to impress him.”

I shook off her hand and looked down my nose at her. “I’m
not
doing this for him and I’m
not
giving up.”

Nana stared at me, pursing her lips. “We’ll see,” she muttered.

The doorbell rang. I rushed to it and slipped out before Damon could say hello to my naysayers.

He gave me a quick hug. “You look beautiful. How are the legs?”

I put on a brave smile, cursing Nana for starting my date with a negative feeling. “Twenty more ice packs, a hundred more shots of Ibuprofen, and they should be golden.”

Damon chuckled. “Always the truth with you.”

Wrapping his long arm around my waist, Damon escorted me to the car. I wondered who I was being honest with. Was I really as tough as I portrayed to Damon or was I a loser who would quit like Nana had prophesied?

Creeping down the slight bank of the river that ran through Smithfield Canyon, I was impressed with myself. I'd finally grown a brave bone. My idea to recreate a scene that gave me almost as many nightmares as Panetti chasing me with a knife was idiotic, but the possibility of the murder never being solved grated on me.

I reached the spot where I’d found the body that fateful race day and just stood there. The police caution tape had been removed weeks ago. As far as I knew, my detective buddies had seen no progress on the case. Why did I think I could help?

My legs started to tremble as the memory of the man invaded my brain. I sank onto my knees to avoid running away. Someone had killed that man and taken his identity. I was sure of it. Maybe if I could remember something about the body, besides his gouged-out head, it would spark some memory and I could give the policemen some kind of clue.

I stared at the spot I’d found him, reliving the awful moment when I had turned the body over. Fighting back a wave of queasiness, I bit the side of my tongue. It was all I could do to not start screaming again.
Look past the face. Look past the face
. I could see long, lean arms poking out of a T-shirt, but that was it. I couldn’t tell how tall the man was, what color of hair he had, or anything else about him.

I closed my eyes, wishing I hadn’t willingly let the memories come. Now I couldn’t shut them out.

Twigs cracked. A bird flitted away. My eyes popped open. I jumped to my feet, ready to sprint for safety.

Jesse held out his hands defensively. “It’s okay, Cassidy. It’s just me.”

His eyes were dark chocolate and oozing concern, but I wasn’t in the mood to be rescued. He crossed a couple more feet. I backed away, thumping into a scratchy pine tree.

Jesse stopped, watching me warily for several seconds before asking, “Are you all right?”

I shook my head.

“What are you doing here?” His tender voice and broad shoulders exuded the need to shelter me.
           
I wrapped my arms around my stomach, wishing I didn’t want his protection so badly. Who was he? The good-looking bad boy or the kind-eyed plastic surgeon? “I could ask the same of you.”

“I saw you from the road.”

My stomach lurched. I swiveled my gaze to the lush vegetation: bushes, weeds, pine and aspen trees. It was impossible to see the road from here. A quiver of fear shot through me. How could a man be so attractive and so unsettling at the same time?

“Are you following me?” I demanded.

Jesse grinned and the attractive factor shot above my unease. “It isn’t the first time.”

Unsettling and attractive were now battling. Was I just being paranoid? I had plenty of reasons to be. I clutched my hands behind me, the poky pine needles embedded into my palms. “Who are you really?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You seem like this nice, good-looking, smart guy, but no way are you just showing up every time I need you.” I jabbed a finger at him. “You’re following me, and,” my voice quivered as I produced a lie, “I don’t like it.”

Jesse’s lower lip protruded slightly. He jammed a hand through his dark hair. I felt like such a jerk. I took several steps towards him. A soft breeze brought his musky scent to me. “Okay,” I said, “so maybe I like it, but you’ve got to understand why I'm a bit freaked out.”

Those eyes met mine. Everything in me melted.

“I feel like . . .” Jesse crossed the remaining distance between us. The way he held me with his eyes incapacitated me. Reaching out, he brushed those wonderfully calloused fingers down my cheek. “I’m very protective of you, Cassidy.”

I gulped, loving his touch, yet still terrified by his words. “Why do you need to be protective of me?”

Jesse’s hand dropped. He studied a grove of aspen trees. “I can’t tell you.”

Shivers radiated throughout my body. Who was he? What did he know that I didn’t? Was he in league with Muscle Man and Greasy Beanpole or was he safeguarding me from them? I didn’t dare ask. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Jesse stroked my arm. “Please don’t be afraid. I’ll make sure you’re okay.”