The Defender's Duty

“Fifteen miles an hour if you’re not trying to catch a potential murderer.” Although at this point, it was unlikely they’d come within twenty miles of the guy who’d been behind the wheel of the car they were trying to follow.

“Murderer? You actually think the guy was here to…” Apparently she couldn’t get the words out, but Jude had no problem with them.

“Kill me.”

“What?” She braked hard, pulled to the side of the road and turned to face Jude. “Grayson said you were troubled, but he didn’t say you were paranoid.”

“I’m not.” He knew that wouldn’t be enough information to get Lacey driving again, but wasting time chit-chatting wasn’t high on his list of things to do when a criminal was escaping.

“You know you can’t tell me someone is trying to kill you and expect me to act as though this is just an ordinary early-morning outing, right?”

“You knew it wasn’t an ordinary outing when you offered to drive, and what I expect you to do is drive.”

To Jude’s surprise, she accelerated, pulling onto the road and heading in the direction the sedan had gone. The street was dark, the houses that lined it silent and sleeping. There were plenty of cars parked in driveways and on the side of the road, and Jude scanned each as Lacey drove past. He didn’t expect to find his quarry, but he hoped. That would have to be enough for now.

“If we see the car, we’re going to call the police, right? Let them deal with it.” Lacey’s question filled the silence, reminding Jude that he wasn’t alone in his quest. There was someone else to think about; someone who could easily be hurt.

“If we see the car, you’ll call the police and wait in here until they arrive.” No way would Jude allow Lacey anywhere near the vehicle.

“What about you?”

“I’ll do what I have to do to make sure the person doesn’t drive away before the police arrive.” He scanned the street as he spoke, his hope of finding the car dying a little more with each passing minute. He wanted to find it, prayed he’d find it, but he doubted either would do any good. After all, he’d wanted to walk out of the hospital on two strong, pain-free legs. Instead, he’d been rolled out in a wheelchair. As for praying, Jude had walked too far away from his faith to expect God to answer.

It had only been recently that he’d realized how true that was. Being forced to slow down had given him time to take a long, hard look at his life. He wasn’t sure he liked what he saw. He’d spent eleven years working hard, playing hard, pursuing his passions with the same single-minded zeal with which he’d pursued criminals.

He wanted to believe there was nothing wrong with that, but a quiet voice in his soul kept whispering that he’d taken the wrong path. That his need for independence had cost him the things he’d valued most—faith and family.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Someone wanted him dead. If Jude didn’t find out who that was, he wouldn’t have to worry about the things he’d given up to gain freedom and independence. He wouldn’t have to worry about anything at all.

“We’re probably not going to find the car.” Lacey echoed Jude’s doubts, but that didn’t mean he planned to give up.

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep looking.”

“We could keep looking. Or we could go back to the house.”

“And do what? Hope the guy comes back?”

“Actually, I was hoping we could raid your fridge and find something for breakfast.”

Lacey’s answer made Jude smile. “Is food the only thing you think about?”

“Not usually, but I haven’t had anything to eat in twelve hours.”

“You had pretzels.”

“They don’t count. Or that’s what I’ll be telling myself when I’m gorging on pancakes, sausage, grits and home fries.”

“Sorry to say, I don’t have any of those things in my fridge. Not that I think you could actually eat all that.”

“Point me to a restaurant that’s open all night and I’ll be happy to prove you wrong.” She sounded serious, and Jude was sure he heard her stomach growl.

“There’s an all-night diner a couple of miles down this road. We can stop there.”

“Does that mean we’re done looking for the guy in the black sedan?” She sounded so hopeful, Jude almost felt bad about telling her the truth.

“We’ll keep looking until we get there. If we don’t find him by then, we probably won’t.”

“Too bad.”

It was, because there was no way the driver of the sedan was going to drive away for good. He’d be back, and when he returned there was no guarantee Jude would see him coming. The way Jude saw it, most people never experienced a miracle in their lives. He’d already experienced one in surviving the driver’s first attack. There was no way he could count on another.

All he could do was wait and hope that when the time came, he’d be ready to fight.

FOUR

Lacey didn’t believe in spending a lot of time worrying. It wasted valuable energy that was better spent enjoying other things. Unfortunately, worry was exactly what she was feeling.

Someone wanted Jude dead.

That was what he’d said, and despite initial doubts, Lacey believed him.

She’d worked with enough paranoid clients to know one when she saw one. She didn’t see one when she looked at Jude. She saw instead a man on a mission. One who knew exactly what he was doing and why.

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and stared out at the road, praying desperately that she wouldn’t see the car Jude was looking for. If she did, Jude would want her to pull over so that he could confront the driver. Lacey wasn’t sure she could bring herself to do it.

Sure, Jude had a gun…but who knew what the guy in the car had?

She inched down the street in good old Bess, the Mustang’s loud engine masking any sounds from outside the vehicle. A parade of murderers in black sedans could have been speeding up behind her and she wouldn’t have known it.

“You can relax, Lacey. We’re not going to find him tonight.” Jude’s voice was smooth and deep, the kind that could be filled with promises or with threats and still send shivers along the spine.

“Maybe we should call the police.”

“And tell them what?” He snarled the question as Lacey spotted the all-night diner and pulled into the parking lot.

“There’s no need to snap.”

“I’m not snapping. I’m…” He smoothed his hair and turned to face her, the planes and hollows of his face shadowed, his eyes dark. “Snapping. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I guess if I thought someone wanted me dead, I’d be snapping, too.”

“I already told you, I don’t think it. I know it. I was nearly killed two months ago. It wasn’t an accident. Unfortunately, I don’t have the evidence I need to prove it.”

“You were run down while you were helping a stranded motorist. I’m sure you know how often that happens. The fact that the car accelerated could mean that the person driving it was drunk. It doesn’t necessarily mean he was specifically targeting you.” Lacey made the argument without believing in it. Jude had worked as a homicide detective. She didn’t believe he’d jump to conclusions about what had happened.

“That’s what NYPD said. With no other attacks against me, they had no choice but to call the accident a hit-and-run.”