Tennessee Touch, Sisters of Spirit #6 by Nancy Radke Read Free Book Online

written it down wrong.
    She tried the cell phone again. This time she got an answering machine, so she mentioned she had tried to call him. But she still wasn’t ready to give him her number, so she said she would try again later.
    Labor Day weekend came, the last day for Seattle’s Bumbershoot Film Festival. A glorious day in September, the sun shining hot in hazy blue skies, the air still, but not oppressive; filled with the energetic sounds of lawnmower engines, barking dogs, and children playing in neighborhood yards.
    Unwilling to waste the long, cool twilight hours, Alison put on dark green sweats and a cropped cotton top, grabbed her can of Mace and went jogging around the lake.
    She had been interpreting for a professional woman off and on all weekend at the film festival, and her mind and fingers were both aching. It had been fun, but her job was finished and there was still light enough to run.
    Several other joggers had waited for the cool of the evening before starting and Alison joined the last stragglers on the dirt track, putting her water bottle down on a bench.
    The path circled the lake in a wide loop and was marked off by distance so the joggers could tell how many miles they ran. There were exercise stations along the way with instructions for use. It was a popular place and she passed or was passed by several according to speed.
    It had been a hot, dry summer, with rainless days following rainless days. The tourist industry jumped for joy and sales rose in the entire area. The only adverse consequence was that water rationing was in effect, something fairly unusual in the Seattle region. The park grass had been left unwatered so large brown patches were prominent over much of the area. The running track was covered with a fine powdered dust that shot up in small puffs each time Alison’s foot went down.
    Stride, stride, stride, stride...she loved to run, relaxed and easy, breathing deeply in the warm pine-scented air. Her new job with the high school student meant her afternoons and evenings would be free. She could consider joining one of the women’s soccer teams in the area. Playing soccer at Green Lake would give her plenty of exercise while she was having fun. It was a perfect way to relax after the mental strain of interpreting for several hours. The running required—jogging, sprinting full out, then jogging again—was an excellent conditioner.
    Her right leg cramped suddenly and Alison slowed to a limping walk. She should have carried her water bottle. She was now at the far side of the loop, in the part where there was the most foliage, so she moved over onto the shady side of the track.
    John, one of the joggers from her building, slowed to ask if she was all right and she nodded, waving him on.
    It was going to take awhile to walk back.
    Five minutes later she heard other footsteps, very close, and glanced over her shoulder to see who it was.
    A man was running toward her and she started to dismiss him until she realized he was wearing tan slacks and a light cream sports shirt, regular street shoes. Dark glasses. No one from around here—and not dressed for running.
    Being the type of person who left her seat belt fastened the entire trip in a airplane, Alison believe in planning ahead, so she got her can of Mace positioned correctly in her hand, just in case.
    If the man kept on running, fine. If not, she was prepared.
    She took a few more steps, stiffening when she heard the runner slow as he came up behind her. She glanced down at the can to make sure she was holding it correctly, her finger on the button.

    “Hello.”

4
    Startled to hear Logan’s voice, Alison spun around. Her fingers tightened automatically on the can and the arc of the spray hit him directly in the face before she released the button.
    “Alison!”
    “Logan?”
    He pulled off the concealing glasses, wiping his face with his hands. “Ow! Man, wha... what... what did you do that for?”
    Her heart was still