She stood on the sidewalk, and the traffic noises brought her back to earth. Unbelievably, the muggy evening air was cooler than it had been inside the studio. She tucked the mat under her arm and set off on the three-block walk home. It was almost dark. She passed the Laundromat and the noodle shop, and her thoughts turned to ways to fill her evening. Maybe she should get carryout and invite Fiona over. Or maybe she should call Jordan and see if she was up for a drink.

She turned onto Oak Trail, weighing the pros and cons of each option. A night with Jordan would be fun, but she'd blow too much money. A night with Fiona would be cheap, but she'd spend the whole time pretending to be fine so her sister wouldn't worry about her.

Courtney glanced down the street. Her blood ran cold.

That black SUV. It had been parked there last night, after she'd heard the noise. She forced her feet to keep moving, forced her face to look neutral. She recognized the shape of the car and the black-tinted windows. It wasn't a car she'd seen around before yesterday, and she realized now that it didn't belong.

Her gaze darted around. Her duplex was dark. Not a sound on the street. The driveway was empty, just as it had been when she'd left.

She couldn't go home. She didn't know why, exactly, but she had that tickly feeling between her shoulder blades like she'd had back at Zilker Park. Someone was watching her.

This wasn't good. She was exposed. She didn't have a purse, or a phone, or a tube of Mace. She certainly didn't have her Beretta. Instead, she had a house key laced to her sneaker, a rubber mat tucked under her arm, and a water bottle clutched in her hand.

She turned around and set a brisk pace for the doughnut shop. The tickling increased until she was certain someone was watching her. She glanced around desperately. No traffic. No pedestrians. The doughnut shop was a beacon, but it seemed miles away.

An engine grumbled to life behind her. Courtney's heart skittered. Could it really be- The grumble became a roar. She broke into a sprint, dropping everything as she raced for the salvation of the neon sign. Her legs strained. The noise closed in.

She darted to the side, up onto the sidewalk. She glanced over her shoulder.

Black car. Silver grill. Moving closer!

She lunged left again, dodged a lamppost. Her feet barely touched the pavement. She raced for the light. Almost there, almost there, almost there. Brakes squealed behind her, and she screamed.

CHAPTER 8.

Will's phone vibrated as he exited the police station. He checked the display, but didn't know the number.

"Hodges."

"Where are you?"

He knew the voice. "Leaving work."

"I need you to meet me. Right now."

Will neared his truck and shook his keys loose from his pocket. Courtney sounded stressed. "Meet you where?"

"You need to hurry. I thought he was gone, but then he looped back around, and I think he might have-"

"Whoa, there. Who's gone?"

"This guy. This truck that tried to run me down-"

"What? Where the hell are you?" He jumped behind the wheel.

"At the doughnut store near my house-"

"Are you inside?"

"Yes. But I think he's still out there, and I need you to hurry. What? Just a minute! God, would you chill out?"

"What?"

"Not you. There's this guy here. I'm on his phone. I need you to get here fast. I can describe the car. I didn't see the license plate, but maybe-"

"Are you hurt?"

"No, but I'm freaked out! It's the same black Tahoe from last night. It was on my street after I heard a noise on my porch and-"

"Did you call the police?"

"Huh? No. Look, I've got to go now. This guy's a little touchy about his goddamn iPhone. Hey, do you mind, here? This is the police." Her voice faded, and Will heard arguing in the background. "I've got to go, Will. Please hurry."

She clicked off.

Will tossed his phone onto the seat beside him and pressed the gas. He sped through a yellow light and picked up I-35 for several miles until he reached Courtney's neighborhood. A few intersections later, the doughnut shop came into view. He hit a pothole as he whipped into the parking lot.

Courtney stood in front of the entrance with her arms crossed. Will pulled up beside her, and she jerked open the passenger-side door.

"Finally! What took you so long?"

"Where's this vehicle?"

"It's a black Escalade."

"You said Tahoe."

"It's an Escalade. I got a good look at when it went by the second time." She pointed to the street just north of Oak Trail. "Go that way. I think he circled the block. Maybe we can sneak up on him."

Doubtful. But Will followed her directions anyway, just to ease her nerves.

"You say he tried to run you down?"

"Yes."

"You're sure he was aiming for you? He wasn't just speeding?"

She shot him a scorching look.

"Hey, I'm just asking."

"Turn left here. Maybe we can find him."

"If he really was trying to hurt you, he'll be long gone by now."

"Yeah, well, humor me."

He glanced at her. She wore workout gear, and she was soaking wet.

"You been swimming?"

She gave him an annoyed look. "Yoga. Can you step on it, please?"

He stepped on it, but he didn't see any black Escalades or Tahoes anywhere near her house.

"I couldn't get the license plate," she said. "He was going too fast when he drove by."

"And you saw him from the doughnut shop?"

She scanned the surrounding area. "I spotted him when I was walking home. He was parked near my house, and I remembered seeing that exact car on my street last night."

"Are you sure? A Tahoe looks nothing like an Escalade."

"I'm sure."

"You get a look at the driver?"

"No."

Will circled the block again. Then he wove through the neighborhood for ten more minutes, but saw nothing remarkable. He turned down Oak Trail again, pulled up to her house, and stopped.

"Tell me about the noise on your porch."

She took a deep breath. "I was trying to sleep last night. And I heard this thud. Like a footstep."

"Why didn't you call me?"

She shot him a "yeah, right" look, which pissed him off.

"Did you call anybody?"

"I got out of bed to check it out, but there was no one there."

Will shoved open his door and got out. "Stay here. And lock the door behind me."

He did a quick inspection of the premises as her neighbor's dog barked its head off. When he returned to the Suburban, she leaned over to pull up his door lock.

"No sign of any disturbance." He slid into the driver's seat but didn't close the door. "We should check around inside, just to be sure."

She glanced up and down the street, and a little worry line appeared between her eyebrows. "I don't want to go in yet."

"Okay." He didn't blame her for being spooked. "When do you want to go in?"

"Later."

"Where's Amy?"

"Visiting relatives this week." She met his gaze. "I'm starving. Are you?"

"No." Actually, he was famished.

"Well, I'm hungry. Let's go get a pizza."

"A pizza."

"Dough? Cheese? Assorted toppings?"

He should leave now. Or he should take her inside to inspect her house, and then he should leave.

Instead, he started the engine. "I think I saw a Home Slice up the street," he said, pulling away from the curb.

"I'm not sitting in a restaurant like this."

He flicked a glance at her. "Why not?"

"I'm dripping with sweat. But we can do a to-go order and take it back to your place."

Will gritted his teeth. His apartment was the very last place he wanted Courtney Glass and her form-fitting yoga pants. "Not an option."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because you're a cop?"

"Yes."

She scoffed. "So you're not allowed to have a woman over?"

He didn't answer. He spotted the sign for Home Slice and put on his turn signal.

"You ate dinner at my house just the other night."

Will pulled into the pizza joint and parked the truck. "That was different."

She crossed her arms over her breasts. "Why?"

The difference was intent. He hadn't planned to have dinner at her house; it had just happened. But if he took her home now, it would be a different scenario and most likely a different outcome.

"You're smelling a little ripe, too," she said, eyeing his shorts and T-shirt. "Looks like you came from the gym. I thought you said you were at work."