She stared at her precise handwriting and then slowly began to thumb through the older entries. Ten days ago: the nightmare. Eight days ago: saw man at the mall and remembered Philip. Seven days ago: heard a sound outside her window. Neighbor introduced herself as Julia, but she kept her distance.

Absently, she traced the scar that ran along her collarbone. Philip had aimed for her throat, but that strike had missed when she twisted and skimmed off her collarbone. Carefully, she closed the journal and released the breath she’d been holding.

He’s gone. He can’t hurt you. You’re safe.

Alex stood at the edge of the park, watching Deidre’s SUV. He’d arrived an hour before the group and had run the route through the woods, as he’d done hundreds of times before, in the dark. He liked running in the dark. The peace.

Today his gaze had been drawn to Leah. She hadn’t seen his face, of that he was sure, but somehow she sensed him watching. It had rattled her, and she nearly lost her step. Her wild gaze had scanned the woods as she struggled to catch her breath. But she hadn’t given up. She fisted her gloved hands tighter, turned her sights on the path, and kept running.

Her scars weren’t from an accident. She’d been attacked, and those cuts had been defensive wounds. Normally, unless the job demanded it, he didn’t care about a person’s secrets or past. But he cared about hers. Liked her. He could dig up her skeletons, but he wouldn’t. Her secrets were for her to tell when she was ready.

He jogged up the hill to his car and slid behind the wheel. He was parked on the other side of the lot but still had a clear view of the park and Deidre’s car.

Deidre ran daily, sometimes twice, as if her own demons chased her. He understood the need to run. To burn the endless energy that rarely gave his mind a chance to rest. To melt the ice and glimpse life on the other side of detachment.

He sat in his car, the engine running, and reached for the coffee cup. A sip produced only a few cold drops. Irritated, he crushed the cup in his hand and tossed the remains on the floor of the rental car, irritated that he’d run out.

Deidre and the blond guy from the bar last night emerged from the woods, running at a good clip. Clearly, both were very fit. They ran up to her SUV and paused briefly for a few words. He leaned in and kissed her. She smiled and kissed him back before sliding behind the wheel of her car.

As she backed out of her space, she glanced over in Alex’s direction, but he turned his face and backed his car out of the parking spot.

He drove across the lot at a steady pace, glancing toward Deidre in the rearview mirror. She was staring in his direction so he ducked his head, letting the hoodie cover his face. Deidre was a good cop. And he didn’t need her realizing he’d been there.

Alex glanced toward the empty paths that snaked into the woods. So many good places to lurk and hide. But that was for another day. Not today.

Now, it was time to get more coffee, maybe a bagel. The running group would be back here tomorrow, and he’d be ready and waiting.

Chapter Five

Sunday, January 15, 10:00 A.M.

Leah arrived at the Nashville Animal Hospital just after ten. The clinic didn’t have official office hours on Sundays, but boarding patients recovering from surgery had to be checked, fed, and walked. The third Sunday of the month was also the day her boss, Dr. Nelson, donated his time to the animal shelter. On these Sundays, the two doctors spent several hours spaying and neutering strays.

When she’d graduated from vet school, she’d seen the listing for a veterinarian position in Nashville. Though the job had excited her, the move back to her hometown had given her pause. This was where she’d lived with Philip. Where he’d almost killed her. She’d been anxious to put distance between herself, Philip, and their marriage, but the pay was good and this was her hometown, too.

When she closed and locked the front door behind her, Dr. Nelson called out, “Leah, that you?”

“It’s me, Dr. Nelson.” She paused and, before stepping away from the door, rattled the knob a couple of times to make sure it was locked. “Here to help. Does Tracker need to be walked?”

“No. Just took him out.”

“Great.” She moved to the back room, where they held the boarded animals in large, spacious enclosures. Tracker lay on a blue blanket brought from home. When she peeked in, he looked at her, yawned, and went back to sleep.

“We’ve got six cats today,” Dr. Nelson said.

She pulled off her coat as she moved through the reception area into the back. “Male or female?”

“Half and half.”

She slid on a white lab coat and met the doctor in the surgery. He stood over a large, hissing orange male tabby. The feline had a bent ear and an open wound on his right side. Dr. Nelson lifted the tabby by the scruff of the neck. The cat hissed and spit, but with practiced ease, the doctor lifted a syringe.

“That guy looks like he got into a fight.” Leah grabbed a handful of flesh behind the cat’s neck and watched as the doctor injected the sedative. Within seconds, the cat turned to dead weight.

“Judging by the scars, he’s had a rough go of it.”

She scratched the cat between the ears and smiled as his eyes closed. “We’ll get you patched right up.”

She washed her hands, donned rubber gloves, and laid out instrument trays she’d prepped the day before. The procedures promised to be quick, and if all went according to plan, they’d be done in a few hours.

The cat would be out for two hours, plenty of time to clean and stitch the wound on his side and complete his neutering.

Without thinking, she pushed up her sleeves.

Dr. Nelson adjusted the exam light above the table so he had a better view of the wound. “How’d you get that scar on your arm, Leah?”

She glanced down at the thin white scar expertly stitched by the plastic surgeon. Quickly, she lowered her sleeve and summoned the smile she always used when questions arose. During the winter, turtlenecks and long sleeves kept the questions at bay, but summer shorts and sleeveless blouses meant lots of questions and plenty of opportunities to perfect her story. “Car accident. Happened when I was in college.”

“Must have been bad.”

“Swerved to miss a dog that had gotten off his leash. Hit a tree.” The lie came tripping easily over her lips. For simplicity’s sake, she always stuck to the same story.

He glanced at her over his half glasses as she handed him a threaded suture needle. “An animal lover to the bone.”

“I suppose so.” Some of the twenty-three scars were short and small, barely scratches, while others had been deep and gaping. The one in her belly had been the most damaging. He’d plunged the knife into her gut, lacerating her intestines.

“Gail tells me you had a date last night.”

Leah glanced up, a bit surprised that they’d been talking about her. “Funny thing about the date. I got a text from the hospital telling me there was an emergency. But when I got here, the place was dark. I started to think maybe the text was stuck in the airways.”

Dr. Nelson shook his head as he sewed. “I didn’t send it. Frankly, I’m not sure if I’d know how. Could Gail have sent it?”

“I called, but she hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. A quirk. Either way, Gail will know.”

“Maybe.” She hadn’t questioned the text too closely at first because it had rescued her from the date and her growing panic attack. But now, she wondered.

The front bell of the clinic rang. Dr. Nelson glanced up at the clock. “Tracker’s uncle. Never misses a visit.”