Page 87 of Always Salty

Specifically two months ago.

More interesting.

A person running caught my attention, and I narrowed my eyes, realizing quickly that it was Jack/Cornelius.

He was shirtless, wearing nothing but running shorts and tennis shoes, and staring directly at me.

I narrowed my eyes.

Most normal people didn’t notice small details so far away.

Yet this man had noticed me.

He’d noticed the man in his yard behind me. He’d also noticed the dog that was coming out of the side yard to his right.

Yet his eyes stayed on the most dangerous threat to him—me.

Military, I decided.

He had to be ex-military.

But there was something else about him.

The two times I’d seen him previously, he’d been wearing dumpy clothes to hide his physique.

Why?

What was the reason he was hiding that?

He certainly wasn’t hiding it now.

“Hey, Jack,” the neighbor behind me yelled as he came closer. “How many miles did you put in today?”

Jack/Cornelius said, “Oh, only a couple.”

He was lying.

I could tell by the way the man’s eyebrows shot up. “Only a couple? You sick? You told me last week you usually do five to nine every day before you get your garage workout in.”

Yep, definitely lying.

He didn’t want me knowing how much he worked out.

“Plus, you left at like o’dark-thirty. There’s no way you only did two if you’re just now getting back. That was an hour and a half ago.” The helpful neighbor kept talking.

My brows rose as a small smile lit my lips.

More than interesting at this point.

This guy had to be a cop.

It was good that I’d found that out.

I would’ve hated to have killed a cop and not known it.

Assaulting him was probably off the table now, too.

“Thanks, Jim,” Jack/Cornelius said.

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