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No Place To Run
Marion Faith Laird
DON'T THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH IT.Just when she started to feel safe, small-town librarian Lorie Narramore begins receiving threatening notes. They prove that her worst fears have come true—her dark past has followed her to Arkansas. And someone wants her to pay for what she's done. As the threats turn into full-scale attacks, Lorie has no choice but to rely on deputy sheriff Matt MacGregor's protection. But after her harrowing ordeal with the law, can she truly trust a cop? And can Matt trust her to tell him the truth when the threats claim she's gotten away with murder?
“DON’T THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH IT.”
Just when she started to feel safe, small-town librarian Lorie Narramore begins receiving threatening notes. They prove that her worst fears have come true—her dark past has followed her to Arkansas. And someone wants her to pay for what she’s done. As the threats turn into full-scale attacks, Lorie has no choice but to rely on deputy sheriff Matt MacGregor’s protection. But after her harrowing ordeal with the law, can she truly trust a cop? And can Matt trust her to tell him the truth when the threats claim she’s gotten away with murder?
Lorie’s cell phone rang.
Lorie checked the display, then looked at Matt. “I don’t know who this is.”
Matt flipped open the phone and hit the answer button, putting it on speaker.
“You have been a very naughty girl, haven’t you, going to the law like that. Shame on you.” The robot-processed voice was back.
Lorie turned pale. Matt put a finger to his lips.
“But then you know that, don’t you? I’m surprised at you, trusting a deputy. When he finds out the truth, you’ll finally be accountable.”
Combined with the call Gerhardt had fielded, all Matt’s dark suspicions came flooding back. Was she responsible for more than justifiable homicide? Lorie’s expression held no hint of guilt, just confusion and fear.
“Why are you tormenting me?” Lorie demanded. “What did I ever do to you?”
“Why, you killed Grayson, of course. You have to be punished for that, since the court let you go. You’ll finally get what you deserve. I hope your life insurance is up-to-date.”
Dear Reader (#ulink_946c1a7f-2667-56e9-affa-1af3176aed49),
Thank you so much for reading No Place to Run, the first of what I hope will be many novels set in my fictional county in beautiful Western Arkansas.
Books don’t happen in a vacuum, and that’s a good thing! So many things contribute to a story that sometimes it’s hard to know where to begin. This one began with a blank page and one sentence during that crazy time of year known as National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. Once the note appeared on the page on Lorie’s desk, the rest began to take shape.
The book has undergone many changes since its first mad rush of creation, but its message remains the same: love and forgiveness are two essential things in life.
As far as I know, neither the city nor county library systems of San Diego has ever held a charity auction at the Hotel Del Coronado—or anywhere else—and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the interlibrary loan system has nothing to do with transporting illegal substances! I have the highest regard for not only the library systems and the Hotel Del, but also the Coronado Police Department and San Diego County Sheriff’s Department. All of the county’s law enforcement agencies, in fact! Lorie’s dim view is colored by her experiences, and is in no way intended to make light of the fine work done by the excellent men and women in law enforcement!
If you’d like to know more about Dainger County, please visit www.daingercounty.com (http://www.daingercounty.com). You can write to me at marionlaird@gmail.com, or c/o Love Inspired Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
May the Lord bless you!
Marion Faith Laird
MARION FAITH LAIRD
shares a house with her mom and a gazillion books. She plays assorted musical instruments, including the organ at her church, composes and arranges music, sings, acts, and occasionally indulges in artwork. She’s always had characters running around in her brain, and is glad she has a new way to share them with others.
In addition to the arts, Marion loves making things. She’d time-travel to the Renaissance if she could to study art technique, but she’d always come back home for her computer.
Growing up in a navy family, Marion has lived from one end of the U.S. to the other, and changed schools and curricula like some kids change shoes. Her peripatetic upbringing has given her a lifelong love of travel and learning, as well as awareness that while people’s customs may differ, their hearts are the same.
Marion is a member of Romance Writers of America and American Christian Fiction Writers.
No Place to Run
Marion Faith Laird
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
—John 14:27
For Mom, who inspired me to read because she always was, and to write because she wrote and told amazing stories! I’m glad she’s here to read this.
And for Dad, who always encouraged me to follow my dreams. I wish he could hold a copy of this book, but I’m sure he knows.
Acknowledgments (#ulink_3e5c7281-3957-533e-ab3e-40d2edd67185)
Special thanks to my friend Anne, who introduced me to Love Inspired books back when they were Steeple Hill. I believe I can safely say that if it wasn’t for her, this book wouldn’t have been written. She’ll always have a special place in our hearts’ albums.
I’m indebted to the generous writers who helped me fine-tune my first chapter and cover blurb entry in Mills & Boon’s annual So You Think You Can Write contest, especially Laura Hamby, Valerie Parv, Rachel J. Stevens and Kathi Robb Harris. I also thank Danica Favorite, who assured me that the editors would contact anyone whose work they wanted to see, even if the manuscript didn’t make it past the first round of voting. Many thanks to Tina James, who requested the full manuscript and a synopsis, Lynette Eason, who helped me improve my synopsis, and to Elizabeth Mazer, my editor, who called and bought the book! Through the revision process, she’s helped make it so much better than it was in its beginning!
Thanks also to Cheryl Wyatt. I’ve started many a story from her writing challenges (although not this one). I also appreciate the writing challenges on the Community Boards at Mills & Boon, and the interactive novel writing at PanHistoria.com. It’s been said it takes a village to raise a child. I’m beginning to think it takes a village to nurture a writer! Many thanks to all my “villages,” and to more of my “villagers,” (in alphabetical order) Diana Cosby, Margaret Daley, Nell Dixon, Rachelle McCalla, Shirlee McCoy, Camy Tang and Janet Tronstad.
Contents
Cover (#ua6104835-3bba-584d-aad4-adfe5f3b2605)
Back Cover Text (#ub94d9a9e-8f3d-5787-85a0-2043c9a51f6d)
Introduction (#u1aa71e40-e137-5d13-bd14-3eb8b8b9647e)
About the Author (#u0b552f6d-1657-5b4b-9c15-b02bac818f7a)
Title Page (#ubacf5868-9839-5ca6-8b72-2f02bf5e727f)
Bible Verse (#uefbebcd7-60e8-5a2a-93ae-98ac8e605d5f)
Dedication (#ua34356bb-498d-5482-8408-6f3d213df405)
Acknowledgments (#uc3cd7d6b-1e06-5725-ac78-aa4eb79a9d74)
ONE (#u50c70024-e22f-5593-b91e-bdfe64b7e397)
TWO (#u1b1ded6f-ebd9-5d17-adcd-2369333040ad)
THREE (#ua4d6b3e0-22cf-5f8d-afa7-e2892571d3b7)
FOUR (#ubb1f3805-e02c-53d8-809c-93fd46c714f9)
FIVE (#u9b2e12b1-816c-519a-9011-89e3a6734be3)
SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#ue712ac5a-c5e3-5544-ad03-0f9d7e83f713)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#ulink_c7f12e43-c116-59fc-923d-5049981f678d)
The note was unsigned.
Don’t think you can get away with it.
The computer printout lay on the pile of library in-mail, as innocent as a rattlesnake ready to strike. Lorie stared at the words for one frozen moment as her heart began to race. She couldn’t hear. Couldn’t see anything except the note.
This couldn’t be happening.
Not now.
Not after her prayers had been answered to let her begin rebuilding her life in Dainger County.
By the time the other librarian, Jen Burkhalter, loped into the office and slung her denim purse onto the coatrack, Lorie was shivering.
“The weather’s gorgeous. I think spring decided to stick around a little longer.” Jen’s head jerked in a double take, her short black hair quivering. “What’s wrong? Are you cold? You look like a deer in headlights.”
Lorie sent a silent prayer heavenward. Help! Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Jen stuck her fists on her generous hips. “Don’t try to put one over on a mom. If you’re fine, I’m a sunflower in a cornfield. Now what’s the problem?”
It took a moment for Lorie to calm down sufficiently to speak. “Have you heard any talk about my moving back to town?”
Jen looked surprised. “You mean trash talk? No. Why?”
You can do this. Taking a deep breath for courage, Lorie nodded at the note. “Look at the in-box. Somebody doesn’t want me here.”
Jen peered into the in-box, adjusting gold wire-rim glasses. “Oh, my. Get away with what?”
Murder.
But it wasn’t.
An icy shiver of doubt skittered up Lorie’s spine. What if someone thought it was?
Get a hold of yourself. This isn’t San Diego.
Lorie pulled herself together. “Maybe they left it on the wrong desk.”
“With your name on it?” Jen jerked her thumb in the direction of Lorie’s Head Librarian plaque. “Stop grasping at straws. Everybody knows who the new head librarian is. You haven’t touched the paper, have you?”
Lorie shook her head. “I’ve read enough mysteries to know that’s the worst thing I could do.”
“Then you also know we need to call the sheriff’s department.”
Call the law? Fear stabbed Lorie in the gut. “But what if this is just a prank?”
“What if it isn’t?”
Lorie winced.
“Grimace all you want to, but if you don’t call them, I’m going to.”
“All right.” Lorie’s sigh ruffled the papers on her desk. “We’d better use the phone at the main desk, in case there are fingerprints.”
“Good idea.” Jen followed Lorie out the door, closing it after them, the automatic lock clicking into place.
