Read Running for Her Life for Free Online Page A

because he wasn’t sure if the dog was a jogger.
    Midafternoon, Janet had called her back to the kitchen because Chase Montgomery was on the phone. He’d expressed his concern about both the vandalism and the troubles on her morning run. Said that he’d spoken to Frank Johnson. She’d been touched that Chase had taken the time to call when clearly he had his own issues to deal with. She’d assured him she was fine and asked about his mom. “Tough days ahead” was all he’d said. He’d switched the topic quickly and had passed along the news that Chief Wilks was continuing to recover from his bypass surgery. That had led him to Jake.
    “I’m grateful that Jake’s there to take care of things. I don’t know a better cop. Nothing gets past him.”
    The words had rattled around in her head for the rest of the day. She needed supercop to look past her, to direct his attention on something else.
    When she’d started imagining how convenient a bank robbery might be, she’d returned to the dining room and wiped off tables and trays and counters as if a health inspector had been spotted outside.
    Now, hours later, she’d progressed from tired to truly exhausted. Her feet hurt and a dull pain had lodged itself in the middle of her back. The kitchen had been extra hot from the big ovens being on all day, making her shirt stick to her back and sweat gather between her breasts. When she cleaned the floor, the mop weighed a hundred pounds. To top it off, when she and Janet washed up the last of the pans, the normally taciturn woman surprised her by initiating conversation. Tara almost dropped the soup kettle on her foot.
    “What do you think of the new police chief?” Janet asked.
    “Seems nice,” she said. She turned on the water and rinsed the large pan again. She grabbed a clean white towel and vigorously rubbed dry the dull stainless steel.
    “He was Johnny-on-the-spot to go looking for you this morning.”
    And that had been nagging at her. In less than twelve hours, after Jake Vernelli had arrived in town, her business had been vandalized and she’d almost been killed. Could it really be as simple as just a streak of bad luck? Or had her luck truly run out? Had Michael found her? And was he somehow connected to the new police chief?
    Nobody in Wyattville knew about Michael. When she’d first arrived in town, the trauma had been too fresh. Then, as her body healed and her mind cleared, she’d decided that the only way to protect herself was to make sure that no one, especially not the police who had betrayed her once before, could know the truth.
    And up until now, it had been easy. Joanna Travis had vanished and Tara Thompson had appeared.
    But Jake Vernelli made her nervous.
    At midmorning, he’d shown up at the restaurant and had coffee with Frank Johnson. It had rattled her to have him at the counter. He’d watched her. Hadn’t mentioned the accident again, but she’d known that every time another customer had asked about it, he’d listened to her answer.
    Had he been trying to see if her story would change?
    It hadn’t. She’d told him the truth. The car had swerved, she’d reacted and hit the ground hard. The impact had stunned her, taken her breath away. She’d sat up as quickly as possible but by then the car was already over the next hill.
    She’d caught only a glimpse of the driver before taking the ditch; he or she had worn a hat pulled low over the face. Maybe it had been an elderly person. Maybe someone coming home from third shift at the county hospital, and they’d fallen asleep and awakened at the last moment. There was no way to know if it had been Michael.
    Michael Watson Masterly, the third. Of the New York Masterlys. Old money. Politically connected. Mean.
    But she hadn’t known any of that the night she’d met Michael at the governor’s fundraiser. She’d been working. He’d been friendly and funny, and when he’d relentlessly pursued her for weeks afterward, she’d been