Free Honor by Janet Dailey

could be the next victim of an accident. Kenzie wasn’t staying in Christine’s apartment a second longer than she had to.
    She had to reach Linc.
    Was it even safe to leave?
    Jumping up, she ran to the door and tested it to make sure it was locked. She pressed her ear to it, listening for the faintest sound in the hall. Footsteps. Breathing. Was the man there?
    She heard nothing. Sliding her sweating hands down the door, she stepped back from it. Then she took a chair and wedged it at an angle under the doorknob.
    Shaking, she returned to the couch, trying again to remember the man’s face and drawing a blank. The shock of seeing him pop up had obliterated her ability to recall.
    Except for the way he’d stared at her out of the shadows. The hot intensity of his gaze was totally creepy. He must have leaned in toward the camera lens, as if he knew exactly which angle was the most frightening.
    She got up and paced. If only she’d had the presence of mind to hit the right key for a screen grab and get him. Linc might even be able to match that face on some database—stop it, she told herself. Wishing and hoping weren’t going to cut it. She’d screwed up.
    Kenzie stopped and slammed her open hand against a wall and didn’t even wince. The hutch rattled. She looked down and scooped up the insurance papers and records, stuffing them into her purse. She had to get out of here. The cops couldn’t do anything about an online call she had no record of. She had no proof of anything.
    But she knew without a doubt the car crash that had left Christine fighting for life was intentional. Her best friend was being stalked by a psycho who meant to hurt or kill her—and Kenzie had just seen his face. Somehow he’d found out that Christine was alive and hacked into her laptop. Waiting for her? Why, when he’d known she was in the hospital?
    What was he looking for? The laptop was Christine’s, a personal thing, hidden away. It didn’t matter. Kenzie had opened it. As good as invited him in.
    Kenzie was afraid to open the door, but she wasn’t about to stay and wait for a sicko to pounce.
    Hell no. Not here and not at her apartment either.
    She was moving out of there as of tonight.
    As to where she could go, she’d have to hurry up and find temporary accommodations online—oh no. Absolutely not. She wasn’t opening her own laptop either.
    She heard giggling in the hallway and several pairs of high-heeled shoes clicking by. When the group of young women had passed, Kenzie turned the door latch and looked. All clear in the hallway. The exterior stairs were too open to hide anyone. She ran for it.
     
    Kenzie checked the rearview mirror again and again. Rattled as she was, she’d pulled over to phone Linc on her cell before she merged into traffic. He hadn’t picked up.
    She’d left a message. No details. Just that something strange had happened at Christine’s apartment and would he meet her at her place or call back, pronto.
    Over and out.
    What she’d wanted to do was wail like an ambulance siren and beg him to take out the invisible bad guy with a top-secret weapon, but that would have hurt her pride. However, it didn’t seem too much to expect that Mr. Super Crypto Classified Tech Wizard would remember to charge his cell phone and keep it with him. Evidently not.
     
    Linc didn’t love bunking down in a two-bit motel, but for right now it was home base. Speaking of home, he’d made a mad dash to Clearston to trade the red pickup for the black car in his garage. Before he’d left, he’d checked the steel tool case back of the cab for anything he might need—nothing much in it but his tacklebox and a battered, wide-brimmed hat. Linc had slammed down the heavy lid without removing either. He wasn’t going to have a chance to go fishing for a good long while.
    He drove back a little too fast. Good thing he hadn’t gotten a speeding ticket. He was hungry as hell and the bag in his hand held the fix for that