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instant her faded gray eyes met his, he knew just how easy this was going to be.
    Ellis’s father walked her up the outside staircase and waited until she unlocked her front door.
    “You sure you’ll be all right?” he asked.
    “Of course.” Her dad had promised to drive Uncle Greg to Charleston to see Prosecutor Buckley. Greg was hoping to get some sort of electronic monitoring added to Alexander’s parole. That way they’d be able to check on the DPPPS Web site at any time and know right where he was.
    Ellis thought it a fool’s errand. But it did give them something proactive to do.
    Her dad turned to leave, then looked back over his shoulder at her.
    “Seriously, Dad. Alexander has his freedom again. I doubt he’ll be stupid enough to come here and risk losing it.”
    He gave her a look she hadn’t seen in years, one full of apology for the carefree youth that had been taken from her. With a nod, he went on.
    If she didn’t work off some of this tension, she’d go mad. She decided to take a long, control-affirming, soulcleansing run.
    Normally she kept a moderate, steady pace, managing her cardiac rate for maximum endurance. Today she pushed herself as if she were being pursued, running blindly on familiar rural roads, lost completely in the rhythm of her footfalls and the rasp of her strained breathing.
    The thick humidity clung to her like an impregnable layer of plastic. Sweat slicked her body, matting her hair against her skull. Still she ran.
    Finally, light-headedness began to nibble at her vision, and her leg muscles cramped. She slowed to a walk, gasping against the suffocating grip of exhaustion.
    When she looked around, she realized just how far she’d run. She was on the rural road front of Belle Creek Stables, where she and Laura had spent so much of their time—where Laura had fallen in love with Nate Vance.
    Ellis stilled, staring at the shaded pastures lining the road, the red metal roofs of the stables and outbuildings. Several horses grazed lazily in the heat, swatting bothersome insects with well-groomed tails. Her feet had brought her to the place she’d patently avoided for over fifteen years. It was only a little over six miles from her house but might as well have been a continent away.
    For an instant, Ellis thought she heard Laura’s voice floating across the pasture, coaxing General Lee, her favorite mount, to accept the bridle. It was a scene Ellis had lived more times than she could count, and recalling it struck a fresh slash of grief across her heart.
    Dizzy and nauseous, she stumbled to the fence. She slung her forearms over the top rail and laid her forehead on them, closing her eyes.
    But closing her eyes was no defense against the memories that came to her like whispers and shadows. The pain was as wicked and raw as it had been years ago.
    Maybe Aunt Jodi was right to want to forget. Maybe it was the only way she could stand to go on living.
    Ellis and Uncle Greg had devoted the past fifteen years to making sure that no one forgot Laura and what had happened to her, that the horrible circumstances remained in the forefront of every parent’s mind, keeping them vigilant against predators like Hollis Alexander. And during the past six years, they’d extended that effort to making certain Alexander remained where he belonged—locked away from everyone’s innocent daughters.
    But maybe that remembering was taking its own toll. Here they were all these years later, her with her locks and alarms, and teaching her yearly self-defense class, and Uncle Greg living alone, looking for happiness in shiny red Corvettes and badass speedboats.
    Laura was still dead and the hole she’d left in their lives as big as ever.
    Ellis squeezed her eyes tighter and willed the past to go away.
    Then a hand fell heavily on her shoulder.

C HAPTER T HREE
     
    M iss—”
    Ellis jerked upright, swung around, and landed a blow with her elbow in the center of the man’s chest. Then she jumped out