The Defender's Duty. Shirlee McCoy

about it?”

      “Is there something wrong with that?”

      “Not at all. I just haven’t met many people who make decisions based on prayer.”

      “Maybe that’s why so many people are making so many bad decisions.”

      “You’ve got a point there. I know I’ve made a few in my life. Maybe if I’d stopped to pray about them, I wouldn’t have.” He smiled, releasing her hand as the waitress set coffee and plates of pumpkin bread on the table.

      “Soup is coming right out. You want to order now, or wait until I bring it?”

      “I’d like a grilled cheese sandwich.” Lacey handed the menu back to the waitress, the sleeve of her sweater riding up and revealing the pale white scars that encircled her wrist. She dropped her arm, shooting a glance in Jude’s direction. He seemed occupied with the slice of bread he was devouring. Good. The last thing she wanted were more questions.

      “Anything for you, Mr. Sinclair?”

      “No. Thanks, Jenna.”

      “You sure? We’ve got a great chicken pot pie today.”

      “Another time. Thanks, though.”

      “Suit yourself.” The young woman scribbled something on her order pad, her lips pressed tightly together. At Jenna’s age, Lacey had been working the same kind of job, and she remembered the nights when she’d calculated the tips and worried about whether or not she was going to earn enough to keep the lights turned on.

      “You know, I think I’ll take some of that chicken pot pie.”

      “So you want that instead of the grilled cheese?”

      “No. I’ll take both. Just box the pot pie so I can take it home for tomorrow. Can you throw in a couple more slices of the pumpkin bread while you’re at it?”

      “All right. It’ll be a few minutes. Just raise a hand if you need a refill on the coffee before then.” Jenna walked away, and Lacey grabbed three creamers and dumped them into her coffee.

      “You could have just left her a big tip.” Jude spoke quietly.

      “That would have been charity. I don’t think Jenna would have appreciated it.”

      “Good call. I tried to slip her an extra twenty one time, and she followed me outside to tell me what I could do with it.”

      “She did not.” But Lacey knew Jenna had. She would have done the same at that age.

      “She did. She informed me that there were a lot of people who were a lot worse off than she was and that I should take the money and give it to one of them.”

      “Did you?”

      “What do you think?”

      “I think you found another way to give it to her.”

      “I gave it to her boss and asked that it be added to her tips. I found it taped to my front door the next day.”

      “Good for Jenna.”

      “You think? The way I see it, pride goeth before a fall. Jenna may be on her way to falling hard.”

      “If she does, she’ll learn from it.”

      “You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

      “Everyone falls sometimes, Jude.” Some people just fall harder than others.

      “Yeah. That’s something I’m learning.” He grabbed a second piece of pumpkin bread, and Lacey frowned.

      “Didn’t your mother teach you to share?”

      “She tried.” He grinned, split the piece and handed her half. “Happy now?”

      “I’d be happier if you’d given me the whole piece.”

      “Didn’t your mother teach you to share?”

      “My mother didn’t teach me much of anything.” The words slipped out before she thought them through, and Lacey wished them back immediately.

      “You know that comment begs me to ask a dozen questions, right?”

      “You can ask. That doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” She met Jude’s gaze, refusing to fidget beneath his scrutiny.

      “Understood. So I’ll go ahead and start asking. You don’t get along with your mom?” he asked, as Jenna set a plate of food and a brown paper bag in front of Lacey.

      “There you go,” Jenna said. “I’m off shift. If you need anything else, you’ll have to flag down one of the other waitresses.”

      “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Lacey dug through her wallet, pulling out her last two twenties. “You can ring up our tab before you go.”

      “I’ll have your change for you in a minute.”

      “Make it my change and keep it.” Jude nudged Lacey’s money aside and pressed several bills into Jenna’s hand.

      She thanked him and hurried away, leaving Lacey with her two twenties still waving in the breeze.

      “Here.” Lacey held out the money, frowning when Jude waved it away. “Take the money, Jude. I like to pay my own way.”

      “I’m sure you do, but we don’t have time for an argument. Take a look outside. What do you see?”

      She looked and shrugged. “The parking lot.”

      “Can you see your car?”

      “Sure. It’s parked under the streetlight. Why?”

      “See the car to its left?”

      “Yeah. It’s a black sedan.” Her heart skipped a beat as she said the words, and she leaned closer to the glass. “You don’t think that’s the same car, do you?”

      “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

      Lacey scooped up the grilled cheese sandwich and shoved it into the carryout bag. “Let’s go.”

      He eyed her for a moment, his jaw set, his gaze hot. “We’re not going anywhere. You are staying here. I am going to talk to the driver of that car.”

      “I think we’ve been down this road before, and I’m pretty sure we both know where it leads.”

      “It leads to you getting fired. Stay put until I get back or forget about having a place of your own for a month.” He stood and limped away, not even giving Lacey a second glance as he crossed the room and headed into the kitchen area.

      Probably heading for a back door.

      Lacey gave him a one-minute head start and then followed, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end and issuing a warning she couldn’t ignore. Danger. It was somewhere close by again, and there was no way she was going to let Jude walk into it alone. If he fired her, so be it. As a matter of fact, if he fired her, it might be for the best. Jude wasn’t the kind of client she was used to working for. Sure, there’d been other young men, but none of them had seemed quite as vital or alive as Jude. She told herself that it made her uncomfortable because he didn’t seem to need her, and Lacey didn’t want to be where she wasn’t needed. Told herself that, but didn’t quite believe it. Jude was trouble. And not just because someone was trying to kill him. On the other hand, she’d felt absolutely certain moving to Lynchburg was what God wanted her to do.

      “So, which is it, Lord? Right or wrong?” She whispered the words as she slipped into the diner’s hot kitchen. A cook glared at her, but she ignored him. Until she knew for sure why God had brought her to Lynchburg, Lacey could only do what she’d been paid to—make sure Jude was okay. Even if that meant putting herself in danger.

      Lacey took a deep breath, prayed that whoever was in the car didn’t have a weapon