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Plain Sanctuary
Alison Stone
AMISH COUNTRY DANGERReturning to her Amish hometown to open a bed and breakfast, Heather Miller thinks she’s finally safe from her violent ex-husband—until he escapes from prison. Now with her ex determined to hurt her, she must rely on US Marshal Zachary Walker for safety. For Zach, this mission isn’t only his duty, it’s personal. The escaped convict killed his sister, and Heather was instrumental in putting the man behind bars. But with Zach’s natural protective instincts toward Heather turning into something deeper, he must keep his emotional distance. He can’t be distracted, because the danger that lies in wait is as evil as it is unexpected…and a lapse in judgement could prove deadly.
AMISH COUNTRY DANGER
Returning to her Amish hometown to open a bed-and-breakfast, Heather Miller thinks she’s finally safe from her violent ex-husband—until he escapes from prison. Now with her ex determined to hurt her, she must rely on US Marshal Zachary Walker for safety. For Zach, this mission isn’t only his duty—it’s personal. The escaped convict killed his sister, and Heather was instrumental in putting the man behind bars. But with Zach’s natural protective instincts toward Heather turning into something deeper, he must keep his emotional distance. He can’t be distracted, because the danger that lies in wait is as evil as it is unexpected...and a lapse in judgment could prove deadly.
Dear Reader (#u1eddac30-d797-5121-a9f2-8522f9404abb),
I hope you enjoyed Plain Sanctuary. This book was my sixth Amish story written for Love Inspired Suspense, but my first set in the new fictional town of Quail Hollow, New York. I decided the sleepy Amish town of Apple Creek needed a little break from the murder and mayhem. I wanted my characters there to enjoy their happily-ever-afters—for a little while. But I’m sure the characters living there will start whispering in my ear, forcing me to eventually tell their stories.
I love receiving reader letters telling me how much you’ve enjoyed my stories and how you want to hear more about a certain character. I’m thrilled when I can respond that that character’s story is already in the next book! I also have hopes of writing more stories set in Quail Hollow, too. The reader desire for Amish stories appears strong, and as long as that’s true, I’ll be plotting a way to be a part of it. Thank you for loving these stories.
During my research, I’ve learned that New York State has a growing Amish population. The Amish have left other settlements in Ohio, Pennsylvania and other states to come to New York for a number of reasons, including seeking farmland, disagreeing with previous settlements over rules, or perhaps because they’re trying to escape state laws that would impact their daily life. Because of this, I felt comfortable creating Quail Hollow as a not-too-distant settlement from Apple Creek, which is loosely based on one of the oldest settlements of Amish in Western New York. I’ve also received many letters from readers who currently live (or previously lived) in Western New York and they love the Buffalo-area connection. I hope you do, too, even if you’re not from the area. It’s a beautiful part of the country.
As always, I love to hear from my readers. If you’d like to stay abreast of all my releases, please go to my website, www.AlisonStone.com (http://www.AlisonStone.com), and sign up for my digital newsletter. Feel free to email me at Alison@AlisonStone.com (mailto:Alison@AlisonStone.com) or mail a letter to me at PO Box 333, Buffalo, NY 14051.
Sincerely,
Alison Stone
“Heather, call me as soon as you get this!”
Zach yelled, as if she might hear him despite talking into her voice mail. “Lock the doors. Make sure the alarm is set. I’ll be there in—” he glanced at the clock out of habit “—five minutes.”
Zach ended the call and pressed the accelerator to the floor. In the not-so-far distance behind him, he could hear sirens. He hoped they were racing to the Lapp home and not to pull him over for driving like a lunatic.
Up ahead, smoke filled the air in a thick black plume, disappearing into the dark storm clouds. His heart plummeted.
His truck skidded on the wet pavement as he slowed at Heather’s driveway. He slammed the gear into Park and jumped out of the truck, leaving the door open and the engine running.
He ran as fast as he could toward the barn. “Heather! Heather!” Zach screamed, then he hooked his arm over his mouth and pushed into the smoky confines of the fire.
Dear Lord, let her be okay, he prayed.
ALISON STONE lives with her husband of more than twenty years and their four children in Western New York. Besides writing, Alison keeps busy volunteering at her children’s schools, driving her girls to dance and watching her boys race motocross. Alison loves to hear from her readers at Alison@AlisonStone.com. For more information, please visit her website, alisonstone.com (http://www.alisonstone.com). She’s also chatty on Twitter, @alison_stone (https://twitter.com/alison_stone). Find her on Facebook at Facebook.com/alisonstoneauthor (https://www.facebook.com/alisonstoneauthor).
Plain Sanctuary
Alison Stone
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares about you.
—1 Peter 5:7
To Scott, with love, forever and always
Contents
Cover (#u805b5915-94fc-5a7d-b9ce-689037b9d9e6)
Back Cover Text (#u9d2a06d5-b2b4-58da-8901-f879ece2cedf)
Dear Reader (#u7b9ec52b-8e37-5823-a302-bd299844438d)
Introduction (#u7e3be3a6-964f-59c4-88df-61904219f394)
About the Author (#u754b1701-49fa-54f3-bf77-5d97d34c6c0b)
Title Page (#u4fc27821-d10b-5034-934b-4d3b2843adb4)
Bible Verse (#u1684a9f2-7450-571b-bbec-c311e0c78cf0)
Dedication (#ub5a16bae-5314-5293-9bb2-4f9cc7eb452b)
ONE (#ue0a9beb2-5c52-5406-ba27-7b07d6e49c0f)
TWO (#u6b7bc1d5-d1f4-5149-af92-29edf9e1842e)
THREE (#ubd470b4e-c7a3-5651-8d98-0a513e25de21)
FOUR (#uf6607b76-5684-554b-a9b9-de07d55818cc)
FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#u1eddac30-d797-5121-a9f2-8522f9404abb)
“Walker.” Deputy U.S. Marshal Zachary Walker answered his cell phone and held it in front of him set on speakerphone. He dropped his duffel bag on the floor of his rarely used hunting cabin. He hadn’t had a chance to open the windows to air out the place before the call came in. It was probably just as well considering the rain pelting the sides of his family’s cabin.
“Hi, Zach.” It was his boss, Dave Kenner, at the U.S. Marshals Service at the Western District of New York headquarters in Buffalo. And if his boss was calling him late on a Friday night at the start of what was to be Zach’s vacation—a vacation his boss had to force him to take—he knew it wasn’t to make small talk. “Are you in Quail Hollow yet?” Zach pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and waited for his boss to get to the point.
“Yeah, just got here.” He cleared his throat. “Remember that vacation you told me I had to take?”
“You never thought you’d have a nine-to-five job as a U.S. Marshal, did you?” Dave exhaled sharply over the line. Something was seriously wrong. “You see the news?”
“No.” Zach had left the office at six, stopped to visit a college friend and his family for a few hours, then listened to an audiobook on the hour drive to Quail Hollow. It was his attempt to decompress. Transition. Leave the stress of the job behind. So, no, he hadn’t listened to the news.
“Let me bring you up to speed.”
“Am I no longer on vacation?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“Hold on.” Zach stood, set his phone on the counter, grabbed the remote and aimed it at the nine-inch TV sitting on the kitchen counter. The laugh track of some sitcom filled the quiet room. He immediately hit the down arrow on the volume and then played with the bunny ears mounted on the TV. He refused to pay for cable at his getaway cabin.
“Let me fill you in.”
“I had no doubt you would.” Zach didn’t try to hide his frustration. He had worked for Dave long enough to know when he was avoiding getting to the point. That could mean only one thing: the news had to strike a personal chord.
Zach flipped the channels blindly, sensing his blood pressure spiking.
“It’s Brian Fox.”
And there it was.
A headache exploded behind his eyes. He dragged a hand over his mouth. Just then he clicked on a channel and a live news broadcast appeared on the screen. Searchlights lit the stone walls of Peters Correctional Facility like a scene out of some prison break movie. A woman with a blond bob and a red coat stood with a mike in one hand, pressing the other to her ear, waiting for directions from her producer or whoever called the shots at the studio in a situation like this. The words on the bottom of the screen scrolled past. Zach had to squint to read them as the reception cut in and out to the old-school TV: “Convicted murderer Brian Fox escaped Peters Correctional Facility at 8:15 p.m.”
He swallowed hard as disbelief made the words flicker even more.
Over two hours ago.
Zach muttered under his breath. “You gotta be kidding me. He escaped? How in the...?” He rubbed his temples with his fingers. The image of his little sister, bloodied and sprawled on his back steps with a trail of blood leaking from her head, flashed in his mind. Bile rose in his throat. People had told him he’d have closure when Fox was convicted. Put behind bars. The people who’d claimed that had never experienced the brutal death of a loved one. Peace. Closure. They were elusive.
“How did this happen, Dave?”
“Initial speculation is that he had help from the inside.”
“Help?” Zach paced the small space. “Who helps a convicted killer escape?” He closed his eyes against the flickering image on the TV, feeling a migraine coming on.
“A female employee may have provided him tools. She’s missing now, too. He’s resourceful. Fox dug a hole through the cement wall in his cell. Got into the bowels of the prison, then, it appears, he got out through the sewer system.”
Zach fisted his hand. “You’re kidding me. He was able to do this without anyone noticing?”
“Apparently he knows how to turn on the charm. Had this woman wrapped around his finger...” His boss’s words trailed off when he realized he had opened mouth, inserted foot. Fox had turned on the charm with Zach’s sister. Married her. Then showed his true self when it was too late. “I’m sorry. I know this is personal for you.”
Zach ignored the last comment. That was the only way he got through each day. The only way he was able to do his job. Each day he did his best to catch the bad guys, something he did in memory of his little sister. But he had yet to find a way to do his job and not be haunted by the horrific scene in which she died.
He was successful in shutting down the dark thoughts maybe 20 percent of the time, at most. Despite helping other people, he’d never get past failing the one person who had spent her entire life looking up to him.
I’m sorry, Jill.
“Brian Fox’s on the run.” His boss got back to the facts.
“Any idea where he’s headed?”
“His first wife moved to Quail Hollow about nine months ago. She’s renovating an old house. Word is she’s opening a bed-and-breakfast.”
“She’s here in Quail Hollow?” Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t the first time Zach had wondered how a guy like Fox landed not one, but two wives. “Does Fox know where she is?”
“Not sure. But his cellmate said he’s fixated on her. Blamed her for putting him in prison.”
“Great. The jerk kills my sister and he blames his first wife for his imprisonment. What a delusional idiot.”
“About that vacation...” his boss said, a hint of hesitancy in his voice.
“I’m officially off vacation.”
“I need you to track down his ex-wife. Put her in protective custody until we have Fox back behind bars.”
“Give me her info.”
Dave rattled off an address for the woman. “Listen, we couldn’t find a phone number, but we found her current address from a public real estate transaction. Fox could do the same thing.”
“Well—” Zach sighed “—Heather Miller hid for ten years from this guy. She only came out of hiding to testify against him in my sister’s murder case. I owe her.”
“Keep your head on straight. If it gets too personal, I’ll send someone else in.”
Zach gritted his teeth. “I’m already here.”
“I know. That’s why I called. Besides, they have every law enforcement agency in Western New York tracking Fox. I can’t spare another person. Stay cool. And I’ll let you know as soon as we have him in custody. It shouldn’t be long. And let me know when you make contact with Miss Miller.”
“Will do.” He ended the call and grabbed the car keys from the table. So much for rest and relaxation.
* * *
A crack of lightning illuminated the night sky in the distance. The stillness felt electric. A sense of expectation hung in the air. Swallowing around a knot of emotion, Heather Miller adjusted the plain roller shade on the bedroom window. A light breeze blew in from the cracked window and with it a mist of rain and the scent of country air.
