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stores, and eateries lining the Venice beach. Nothing would be open for hours. The strip belonged to the diehard health enthusiasts.
    “Hey, Anya.” Two male joggers came alongside her. “We haven't seen you recently.”
    Anya merely waved, saving every morsel of energy.
    “See ya on the way back,” one runner said, as they moved ahead of her.
    The air felt good pushing against her lungs. She'd only been running since she met Braxton, and most of the time, they shared these morning runs. But Anya hadn't called him this morning; she wanted this time alone.
    She'd barely slept twenty minutes last night, settling instead for watching reruns on Nick at Nite. As soon as the dark slipped into dawn's light, she was up, feeling strangely rejuvenated and filled with the desire to return to her morning routine.
    Now, as she reached the Venice Boardwalk Tee-Shirt Factory, she jogged in place, taking a sip from the water bottle hanging on her belt. She couldn't keep herself from thinking about the Linden presentation. Mitchell and Associates was no doubt a top contender but, still, it was a long shot.
    “I'm not going to think about it anymore,” Anya said aloud. She had prayed over this for weeks; it was in God's hands now.
    As she passed the steel-gray condos, she let her mind drift to Braxton. Yesterday, the presentation had given her a reprieve. But now, remembering how well the counseling session had gone, she smiled. Just as she predicted—things got better once they saw Pastor Ford. Counseling and prayer—that was all she and Braxton needed.
    At the top of the Santa Monica pier, Anya paused, resting her hands on her knees. Suddenly she raised her head, and her eyes darted from the deserted pier to the boarded-up buildings. Usually there were other joggers around her but today, she was alone. She straightened her body and shook her head, trying to dislodge the feeling of uneasiness. She quickly turned around and began her trek back, running faster now. It was time for her to get home.

Chapter 4
    H e couldn't believe it when he saw her. He followed, jogging slower than his normal pace, staying a safe distance behind, just like he'd been taught all those years ago.
    “There's a science to this,” his Sixteen-year-old friend Sean had told him. At fourteen, he listened attentively. “You have to be close enough not to lose sight, but far enough away not to be recognized.” Sean spoke with the authority of a teacher, one who had practiced his craft.
    His friend's words had seemed simple, but as they followed the young girl that day, he'd learned that this wasn't like the other games they'd played.
    But now he followed Anya with the expertise that the years had given him. He watched as she ran with an attitude, barely acknowledging a male runner who he knew she saw frequently. She kept her face forward, as if she was the only one on the planet with a purpose. Sometimes, he admired that—sometimes, it made him sick.
    When she got to the parking lot, he lowered his face from her view and pulled his sweatsuit hood over his head. He leaned against the brick building and waited. She stretched her legs against the bumper of the car, then drove from the lot. Slowly he walked to his car. There was no need to keep her in sight. He knew where she was going.

Chapter 5
    A nya was into her rhythm. Coffee in her favorite Delta Sigma Theta mug, subdued music flowing from the small speakers behind her desk, and papers strewn across her desk. She'd been in the office for almost two hours, but hadn't seen David or Alaister. They were all trying to pretend that everything was normal, though the Linden decision weighed heavy in the air.
    Rapid taps on her door broke Anya's concentration. Dianna appeared, with both hands clutching the door.
    “It's them. On the phone!”
    Anya leaned back, waiting for her heart to beat a hole through her chest. Behind Dianna, she could see that half the office had gathered around Dianna's desk.
    Anya inhaled,