Dead Running by Cami Checketts Read Free Book Online Page B

through Tate’s delivery. You promised me you’d be there.” Her words per minute revved. “You know Jared passes out at the sight of blood. My mom lives too far away. You can’t miss the hospital. You can’t.” She was getting hysterical. Pregnancy hormones.
    “No way will I miss it.” I swallowed. “I’m not going to miss the delivery of the second little person who’s going to love me more than anybody else in the world.”
    Raquel chuckled. Her pinched face relaxed. “You think Tate loves you best?”
    “Of course. I’m the coolest aunt ever.”
    Tate bounded into the room. “Auntie.” The four-year old launched himself at me. “What treats did you bring me?”
    “To prove my point.” I twirled my nephew until he was dizzy. “Nothing too great, buddy.” I set him on the carpet and fished a Blow Pop out of my purse.
    His face brightened. “A sucker!” He ripped the candy from my hand, planted a kiss on my leg, and tore off for his room again.
    Raquel glared. “You need to stop giving him treats.”
    “But that’s why I’m the favorite. The next little guy will love me almost as much as Tater does.”
    “If you spoil him as much.” She refocused on the training schedule. After several long minutes she set the papers on the coffee table, leaned back against the cushions, and rested her hands on the slight bulge of her abdomen. “Um, Cassie, I think this schedule is too intense.”
    “What do you mean?” I plopped onto the thick beige carpet in her living room and folded my legs around each other.
    “This schedule will probably kill you,” she clarified. “If you survive, I can’t imagine the injuries you’ll suffer.”
    “I don’t care.” I grabbed onto my ankles and rocked slowly back and forth. I’ve dealt with pain before. “I researched training schedules online. This one had great testimonials. It’s supposed to be the training schedule to qualify for Boston.”
    “I’m sure whoever claims that is right. If you don’t injure something and put yourself out of the race.” She whistled. “This schedule has you running five to six days a week. Repeats, tempo runs, insane long runs.” Her eyebrows arched. “You have three long runs that are twenty miles or higher.”
    I gulped and squeaked out, “Twenty?” I wanted to prove I wouldn't quit, but did I want to prove it that bad?
    Raquel looked down at me, her brown sugar eyes brimming with sympathy.
    I cleared my throat. “Twenty milers will be fun.” I bounced enthusiastically like a child waiting for a trip to the park. What I had gotten myself into? “I’ll have lots of time to . . . think through stuff.”
    “Uh-huh. You can solve the world’s problems.” Raquel’s lips compressed. “Speaking of problems, I heard your detectives showed up again. Was it about the body?”
    I nodded tightly. “Thanks for bringing it up. I almost went half an hour without that horrifying image in my head.”
    Raquel’s gaze softened, but she didn’t back down. “Who do they think killed him?”
    I shrugged and studied the granite fireplace. “They don’t even know who he is.”
    Raquel was quiet long enough, I was forced to look and see what delayed her response. Finally, she clasped her hands together and muttered, “I wonder if it’s an identity crime.”
    I swayed back and forth, trying to assuage my fears like a mother would do for a child. Sadly, I had no mother and Raquel was not helping like she usually did. “Identity crime?”
    “Yeah.” She rubbed her hands together, looking almost excited. Out of character for her usual sweetheart mode. “I saw it on CSI. This guy killed another guy and hid his identity so he could steal the dude’s life. It was psychotic.”
    I bobbed my head along with my body’s rotations. “Sounds psychotic. So, I had a good run this morning.”
    Raquel arched a brow. “How did your pace this morning compare to Saturday’s race?”
    “Actual running pace is a bit fuzzy, but I did