Deadly Chase by Wendy Davy Page A

all, rather than to fall prey to idyllic hopes and false dreams. I won’t be a victim again, even if it means never having another relationship.”
    “That would be a shame.” Chase’s voice dropped an octave, and his gaze flitted over her.
    Although the temperature had cooled, heat crept up Sierra’s face. Chase looked like he saw something beautiful in her, leaving her breathless.
    A moment passed in silence before Chase cleared his throat. “I know he hurt you, Sierra. But I hope you don’t let one man’s actions keep you from the life you’re meant to have.”
    “Right now, I’m just praying I’ll have the chance to find out.”
     
     
     
     

11
     
    Chase wanted nothing more than to promise Sierra she had a future to look forward to, but he couldn’t. Not with Eason still on the loose—which reminded him how vulnerable they were standing out in the open. He steeled his resolve and opened the diner’s door. “Head to the end booth, and leave the seat facing the door for me.”
    “Is it the cop in you that makes you so edgy, or do you really think Kevin could be out there?”
    “Both. I’ve always wanted to serve and protect, and yes, chances are good Eason could be close.” He nodded for her to enter and then followed.
    Scents of grilled hamburgers and sizzling fries filled the air and made his stomach rumble as he scanned the narrow restaurant, taking inventory. Two waitresses, one cook, and three groups of customers occupied the building. The restrooms were located near the back, along with an emergency fire exit. Grateful for an escape route, Chase touched his fingers to Sierra’s lower back, guiding her toward the last booth as if they were a couple out on a casual date.
    After they settled in, a waitress dressed from head to toe in pale yellow shuffled over and set down two menus and silverware. Gray roots peeked out from beneath dark hair, and sags under her eyes spoke of a long, hard life. “Specials tonight are clam chowder with biscuits, country fried steak with a side order of okra or green beans. But, we’re out of jelly for the biscuits, and the dinner rush took nearly all the okra we had in stock. What’ll it be?”
    Chase nodded to Sierra and she glanced at the menu. “I’m a little hungrier than I thought I would be. I’ll take a grilled cheese with a dill pickle spear, fries and a glass of water.”
    Chase asked for a classic hamburger platter and a soda. The waitress grunted her approval, scribbled the order and shuffled away.
    Sierra hugged her arms around her middle and shivered, making Chase want to slide in next to her and dispel her fears. Instead of succumbing to his impulse, he offered, “You’ll feel better once you eat.”
    “I doubt it. The hairs on my neck are standing on end.” She peered out the window. “Kevin could be watching right now.”
    Chase glanced outside, looking for trouble, but darkness swallowed all but twin shafts of light from a nearby streetlamp. “If you’re uncomfortable, we can get our food to go.”
    Sierra turned weary eyes toward him. “No. We’re already here. I’m just so tired of running, of being scared. I’m ready for all this to be over. Maybe I should call Kevin and dare him to come and get me.”
    “Something tells me you don’t really mean that.” Chase sat back as the waitress delivered their drinks and left. Agitated Sierra would even make such a foolhardy suggestion he tapped his fingers on the table, and then picked up a straw and spun it between two fingers.
    Sierra glanced at his movements. “Looks like you could use one of those smooth rocks Kevin carries around with him. He always said rubbing it helped to relieve stress.”
    Chase dropped the straw and leaned forward, heart pounding and stomach twisting into a hard, unyielding knot. “Smooth rock? What did it look like?”
    Sierra’s eyes widened, and she lifted her hand to her throat. “He called it a worry stone. It was kind of orange with swirled