Buch lesen: «Nowhere to Run»

“I thought there might be something you wanted to tell me. Like why you’re so scared and what you’re running away from.”

Seth laid his hand gently over hers. “Maybe I can help you.”

Marie shook her head. “Just fix my car so Patty and I can get out of this town,” she said with a quiver in her voice. “Believe me, you don’t want to get involved.”

“I’m already involved,” Seth countered. “Let me help.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t help unless you let me in on your secrets.”

“Either you read a lot of mystery novels or you’ve had personal experience with this kind of thing.”

When he didn’t answer, Marie studied his face. She didn’t want to place anyone else in jeopardy, but she desperately needed an ally.

“All right,” she finally said. “But the less you know, the better off you’ll be….”

VALERIE HANSEN

was thirty when she awoke to the presence of the Lord in her life and turned to Jesus. In the years that followed she worked with young children, both in church and secular environments. She also raised a family of her own and played foster mother to a wide assortment of furred and feathered critters.

Married to her high school sweetheart since age seventeen, she now lives in an old farmhouse she and her husband renovated with their own hands. She loves to hike the wooded hills behind the house and reflect on the marvelous turn her life has taken. Not only is she privileged to reside among the loving, accepting folks in the breathtakingly beautiful Ozark mountains of Arkansas, she also gets to share her personal faith by telling the stories of her heart for Steeple Hill Books.

Life doesn’t get much better than that!

Valerie Hansen
Nowhere to Run

The Lord holds victory in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones.

—Proverbs 2:7-8

This book is dedicated to computer gurus and dear

friends, Judy and Larry Vierstra, and to others in their

family who also advised me regarding the Internet.

Left to my own devices, I’d still be writing with a

pencil and using two tin cans with a string stretched

between them to communicate!

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

It took a lot to frighten Marie Parnell—unless the perceived danger affected her five-year-old daughter, Patty. That changed everything.

Trembling, she peered out the front window of her Baton Rouge apartment to see who was pounding on the door and shouting her name. It hadn’t been her imagination. Roy Jenkins was back. Her nightmares had come to life.

Marie froze, her brown eyes wide. She could hardly breathe. The tone of Roy’s voice had risen until he’d started to sound more afraid than irate. That was puzzling. It wasn’t like him to show weakness. Not at all.

She chanced another quick peek out the window, hoping and praying he was alone. The last thing she wanted was to expose Patty to the low-life types who had always been Roy’s cohorts.

Keeping her voice as calm as she could, she answered him through the closed door. “Go away.”

His fist slammed against the wood so hard it made her jump. “Not this time, Marie. If you don’t let me in I’ll break this door down. Don’t make me do it.”

Don’t make me do it. The familiar phrase sent chills zinging up her spine and turned her stomach. That was what Roy always used to say before he hit her. As if it were her fault and she deserved being punished. It had taken her a long time to realize that the problem was Roy’s temper, not her behavior, and she thanked God daily that she had not been fool enough to marry him, even though she had not been a Christian during the time they were together.

“Hush. You’ll wake the neighbors,” she warned. In her mind she added, and you’ll wake Patty. That mustn’t happen. The little girl had finally gotten to the place where she’d stopped asking for him, and Marie didn’t want to have to start that healing process all over again.

Outside, Roy pleaded more softly, “Marie, darlin’. You have to listen to me. If you won’t let me in, at least talk to me face-to-face.”

She knew better than to open the door. Experience had taught her well. Yet, there was something in Roy’s tone that tugged at her heart, made her remember the few good times they’d had before he’d turned to crime and begun to physically abuse her when she’d objected.

Twisting the dead bolt, she eased the door open a crack. Roy hit it with his shoulder and shoved her out of the way as he burst in, followed by a gust of humid air.

Marie staggered back, her hands raised in self-defense.

Roy gave a cynical snort. “Simmer down. I got no beef with you. I got worse problems. And so do you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I don’t believe you.” She sent a concerned glance toward the hallway leading to the bedroom, then realized immediately that she’d given away Patty’s location.

“I came to warn you,” Roy insisted. He began trying to edge past her toward the room where his daughter slept.

“Leave her alone,” Marie said, standing firmly in his way. “You haven’t bothered to even write her or send any support for over two years.”

“She’s my kid. I got a right to see her.”

“You have no rights. We were never legally married, and I have a restraining order against you.”

“Yeah, yeah. That piece of paper is only good if I pay attention to it. Tonight, I have other things on my mind.” He paused, shaking his head. “If you weren’t so stubborn you’d listen to me.”

“I stopped listening to you years ago,” Marie said.

“I know.” Roy began to pace. “Look, Marie, I’m in trouble. I’m going to have to leave town. And after I’m gone, there are some old buddies of mine who’re going to be royally teed off.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Plenty. They’re bound to come looking for me. You and the kid are my only ties to this area. If you were them, what would you do?”

She folded her arms and faced him as he continued to walk back and forth. “You don’t want to know what I’d like to do,” she said candidly. “And I refuse to lie for you, so don’t tell me where you’re going.”

“That’s not the problem,” he said. “You’re dumber than dirt, aren’t you? Look. This is serious. You have to leave town, too.”

“Not on your life, Roy. Patty and I are finally happy. I have a good job, she’s starting school in the fall, and we’ve even joined a church. We’re not going anywhere, especially not with you.”

He laughed coarsely. “Not with me, you idiot. That’s the last place I’d want my kid to be, considering the jam I’m in. But you can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

“Sure, Roy. Tell me another fairy tale.” She tucked strands of her cinnamon-brown hair behind her ears with trembling fingers. “Patty and I aren’t going anywhere. Understand?”

“Yeah, I get it. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He began to back away.

Marie followed him to the door, locked it as soon as he’d stepped outside and leaned her forehead against it. She hadn’t wanted Roy to see how deeply his anxiety had affected her, but she was terribly concerned. Could he have been telling the truth for once? He had certainly seemed sincere.

And he hadn’t forced her to let him see Patty, either. That, too, was totally out of character for Roy.

She shut off the inside lights so she couldn’t be seen as she peered out the window to watch him leave.

Suddenly, two shadowy figures appeared on either side of Roy. They grabbed him and held his arms as he squirmed.

Marie pressed her fingertips to her lips to stifle a gasp. The larger men easily dragged him to a waiting car, shoved him inside and sped away.

Immediately reaching for the phone, Marie dialed 911. The police might not be her ex-boyfriend’s first choice for a rescue, but the way she saw it, Roy was out of options. It never occurred to her that her story about his abduction wouldn’t be believed.

Seth Whitfield, the thirty-two-year-old garage mechanic who lived and worked in Serenity, Arkansas, didn’t exist. At least not in the normal sense.

Stepping out of his weathered barn into the spring sunshine, Seth removed his ball cap and raked his fingers through his thick, prematurely graying hair. Alice had always insisted he keep his hair dyed dark, so he had—until she’d been taken from him by the same men who had driven him into hiding.

After Alice’s death nothing had mattered, least of all his appearance, and with the addition of a bit of necessary plastic surgery and his farmer’s tan, he hardly recognized the face he shaved every morning.

He blew out a sigh. Looking across the unspoiled valley always made him a bit wistful. This morning was no exception. He could smell the fresh green grass and appreciate the balmy wind from the west that often brought showers to nourish the groves of oak, hickory and cedar dotting the rocky, gently sloping hills.

Alice would have loved it here, he thought absently, then realized the opposite was true. His late wife had been a city girl. She’d never have agreed to visit the Ozarks, let alone move there to live. That was one of the reasons he had chosen this spot for his relocation. He had had absolutely no ties there.

“And I couldn’t have picked a place that I liked better,” he told himself.

The black-and-white border collie at his side nudged the leg of his jeans, panting and begging for attention in response to his mellow voice.

He bent to stroke the dog’s head. “That’s right, Babe, you and I love this place, don’t we?”

Excited, she wagged her tail and spun in a circle, making Seth smile in spite of his earlier melancholy. As long as he continued to take one day at a time, the same way this smart dog did, and stop brooding over a past that couldn’t be changed, he’d do fine. Regrets were for fools and dreamers, neither of which was an apt description of him. He was intelligent. A survivor. A fighter.

And if he didn’t get a move on he’d be late for work, he added, glancing at his watch.

He patted his thigh. “Come on, old girl. Hop in the truck. We’re heading to town.”

The herding dog took off at a run, bounded through the open window of the cab of the old green pickup and turned to look back at him as if to say, “Hurry up, slow poke.”

Seth squared his Serenity Repair Shop ball cap on his head and slid behind the wheel. There were times, like now, when he could almost feel free, almost forget that he was still in jeopardy in spite of his secure niche in the rural community. If the time ever came that his enemies did locate him, he knew it was going to be harder to pack up and leave these friendly folks than it had been to relinquish his highly paid, undercover, security job and abandon his luxurious residence outside Philadelphia.

The one thing that spoiled his fond memories of that house, of the life he had once led, was the image of his late wife, Alice, prostrate on the kitchen floor with a note of warning pinned to her night gown.

Marie had not rested since she’d witnessed Roy’s abduction. The police had been no help; nor had they offered to guard her, as she had hoped. Consequently, she had followed Roy’s advice, taken Patty and fled.

Before she’d reached the Louisiana border, she was certain she’d spotted a car in pursuit. It was only after night fell again that she’d managed to elude whoever was after her. Then, she’d turned and headed northwest.

If she had been traveling alone, she never would have visited fast-food places or lingered in gas stations and truck stops. Keeping her curious, excited five-year-old cooped up in the car all the time, however, was next to impossible. When Patty wasn’t napping, she was wiggling and asking scads of questions.

In response to the child’s latest demand for food, Marie pulled into the drive-thru lane of a familiar hamburger chain. “Okay. Here we are. What do you want?”

“That!” Patty said, pointing to the colorful, inside play area.

“I thought you were hungry.”

“I am. I’ll eat, too. I just wanna have some fun.”

“We’re on vacation, honey. Seeing all these new places is fun, isn’t it?” The pout on the little girl’s face made Marie smile. “Okay. You win. I guess I can use a short break, too.”

She parked her overloaded blue sedan where she was certain she could watch it through the plate glass windows, then helped Patty unfasten her seatbelt and climb down from her booster seat. “Hold my hand,” Marie cautioned.

“I’m a big girl. I can walk by myself.”

“I know you can. But Mommy gets worried when there are lots of cars around.” Matching coffee-colored gazes met and held in a battle of wills. Marie won by arching her eyebrows and giving her daughter a silent, no-nonsense warning.

“I’ll get you a child’s meal,” Marie said as they entered the fast-food restaurant. “Stay in the play area where I can watch you.” She bent down to reinforce her admonition with a serious look. “This is important. If you can see me, then that means I can see you, too. Okay?”

Barely nodding, the child grinned and skipped off toward the play area.

Marie knew there would be a place for her to sit and eat near Patty and the other children. She cringed at the thought of all those sticky little fingers touching the same play surfaces, but this time she’d make an exception. Considering the fact that Patty had been dragged away from home in the middle of the night, the poor little thing was coping pretty well. Too bad her mama was such a nervous wreck.

As usual, it was hard to convince Patty to slow down long enough to eat. Marie had consumed her own meal long before the excited child was half-finished.

Running out of patience, Marie again gazed out the window toward her car. One of those big, boxy, delivery trucks had stopped sideways in the parking lot and was blocking her view.

She immediately got to her feet and started to gather up their trash. Trucks like that were common, yet there was something about the situation that set her nerves on edge. Then again, since Roy had been kidnapped, everything made her nervous.

“Come on, Patty. We’re leaving,” she called.

“Aw, Mom. Do we have to?”

“Patricia Anne. Now.” Marie knew her raised voice was attracting undue attention but she didn’t care. As long as she couldn’t see her car, there was no guarantee it was all right. Not only was that vehicle their current means of escape, but also practically everything they owned was crammed into it.

Dragging the reluctant little girl by the hand and praying silently, Marie hurried toward the exit. Something made her stop in the small entryway and look up just before she pushed through the glass outer door.

A muscular man in jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt was preparing to climb into the box truck. He had one booted foot planted on the step, his hand on the open driver’s door. Nothing about the scene would have bothered Marie if the trucker hadn’t paused to stare straight at her—and kept on staring.

She stood very still, wondering if she’d be able to make her feet move if she had to. Seconds crept by. A group of noisy, jostling teenagers piled out of a yellow school bus and filed between Marie and the menacing truck driver, temporarily distracting her and blocking her view.

She had to step back and pull Patty close to allow the rowdy teens to squeeze by in the confining space of the entryway. When she looked back at the parking lot, she was relieved to note that the worrisome truck was slowly pulling away.

Her relief was short-lived. As the unmarked vehicle passed, the menace in the driver’s piercing gaze gave Marie chills all the way to her toes.

Marie’s car didn’t begin to run badly until later that afternoon. At first it just stuttered and missed a few times. Then it began to falter as if it wasn’t getting enough fuel.

Marie nursed the car into a filling station and garage off Highway 62. Was it was possible she was out of gas? She was trying to figure the distances in her head and make an educated guess when a tall, broad-shouldered man came toward her.

“That engine sounds like you have a problem,” he said amiably.

If he hadn’t been wearing a baseball cap with a repair service logo on it and wiping black grease off his hands as he spoke, Marie might have been worried by his approach.

She nervously combed her fingers through her cinnamon-colored hair and tucked the longer side tresses behind her ears out of habit. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it. It was running fine until a little while ago.”

“You from around here?” the man asked.

She tensed. “Why?”

“Just wondered,” he said, still smiling. “Want me to have a look at it for you?”

“I don’t know. I…”

“No charge,” he said. “I promise.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, looking for hidden motives behind the magnanimous offer. Maybe the good Lord was looking out for her after all, she reasoned, feeling guilty for being so suspicious. If God chose to use this man to bless her, who was she to refuse or to doubt?

“I’m just being neighborly,” he said. “The name’s Seth Whitfield.”

“Pleased to meet you. If you think you can tell anything about my car by looking, go for it. Just don’t start taking things apart. I can’t afford expensive repairs.”

“It’s a deal.” He raised the hood, propped it up and leaned in.

Marie got Patty out of the car and stood with her in the shade of the service station bay while the man tinkered with her car. If she’d had the slightest warning that she’d need to make a cross-country trip she’d at least have had the car serviced first.

Penitent, she took a moment to thank God that she’d managed to escape the same fate that had befallen poor Roy. It seemed odd that she didn’t feel much connection to him other than simple concern, but she supposed the intervening years of separation had deadened her emotions. Roy had chosen to continue his illegal activities in spite of her pleas for him to stop, and the last time she had tried to discuss it with him he’d gotten drunk and given her a brutal beating. That had been the final straw. She’d left him that night and never looked back.

Marie smiled down at her daughter. The child was her joy, her whole life, and she wasn’t a bit sorry that she’d finally had the courage to distance herself from Roy. She was just sad that the little girl would grow up without the love of a decent father figure.

She sighed, remembering her own childhood. She’d managed to survive without the moral support of either parent and she’d turned out okay. Well, sort of, if you didn’t count her unwise alliance with Roy when she was only seventeen. He had promised her the moon, and for a while she’d been able to fool herself into believing him, to put up with his terrible temper no matter how much he hurt her.

Patty’s birth had changed everything. It had placed an innocent life in Marie’s hands, and for the first time in her life she knew what it was like to really love and be loved. The realization that there could be so much more to living had been such a shock she could still hardly believe it.

And it was concern for her little girl’s welfare that had drawn her into church, had brought her to acknowledge a faith she’d only glimpsed before circumstances had led her to make that choice. When she’d decided that Patty needed exposure to Sunday school, Marie had attended, too, and had found solace and acceptance there, as well as soul mates, when she’d finally turned to Christ.

Leaving her church family behind in Louisiana without so much as a goodbye had been hard for Marie. Those wonderful people cared about her, truly cared. And they would be so worried when they realized she had left town without a single parting word.

Sighing, Marie watched the mechanic move from side to side and tap on parts of her car’s motor. She had no idea what was wrong, nor did she care. All that mattered was getting the car fixed and being on her way again.

If the man hadn’t acted so friendly to begin with, she might have been put off by his rustic looks and grease-streaked clothing. She didn’t expect a garage worker to wear a suit, of course, but the employees of the place where she went to have her oil changed dressed in neat coveralls. This man’s tattered jeans and short-sleeved shirt looked anything but professional.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” she finally asked.

He straightened, grinning, and wiped his hands on an already dirty rag. “The boss thinks I do. But if you want to go on down the road, you’re welcome to.”

“Do you think my car will make it very far?”

“Honestly? No. I suspect you got some dirty gas the last time you filled up. Where was that?”

She wanted to snap at him, to tell him it was none of his business, but she stifled the urge. He wasn’t asking anything that a normal person wouldn’t be glad to answer. Rather than admit that her trip was far from typical, she shrugged. “Beats me. I didn’t pay much attention. We’ve just been kind of rambling across the country.”

“I see. I noticed the Louisiana plates and figured you were probably headed north.”

The license plates! She’d been so upset she hadn’t thought of that. “I—I borrowed the car from a friend,” Marie alibied. “She lives down there. I’m actually from Texas.”

Her daughter tugged on her hand and looked up at her. “Mama? No, we’re…”

“That’s enough, Patty,” Marie said, purposely interrupting. “You and I will go get an ice cream while this man works on our car. How does that sound?”

“Chocolate,” the five-year-old said. “Two scoops.”

“Fine.” She turned back to the mechanic. “I’ll trust you to do whatever the car needs, within reason. Can you have it running soon?”

“I can try,” Seth answered. He pointed. “There’s a café on the square that has good food. And Hickory Station, about half a block that way, sells ice cream and snacks.”

“Thanks.”

Hesitant to leave her belongings unattended, Marie nevertheless grabbed her purse from the front seat and walked off. She figured it was best to get Patty away from the service station before the child revealed too much. She knew it was wrong to lie, let alone to ask an innocent child to do so, but in this situation she was certain the good Lord would forgive them. After all, He was the one who now had their lives in His hands, the one who had promised to look after His children.

Marie started to smile in spite of all her worries. If that rough-looking guy with the sandy-gray hair was supposed to be a Heaven-sent guardian in disguise, his masquerade was working. He surely didn’t look the part.

He’d had nice eyes, though, she mused. Blue, like the summer sky, with tinges of gray to match his hair and little smile wrinkles at the outer corners. He didn’t appear to be very old, but she supposed it was possible for a man to be turning gray in his thirties, which was roughly what she estimated his age to be.

Pausing and waiting for passing cars before crossing the peaceful, tree-lined street, she glanced back at the service station.

Instead of working on her car as he’d promised, the man was standing beside it with his hands fisted on his hips. His eyes were shaded by his ball cap, but she could tell he was looking directly at her.

She stared back at him. He didn’t flinch. His intense, unwavering concentration gave her the shivers from her nape to her toes.

Grabbing Patty’s hand, she half dragged the little girl as she hurried across the street. The sooner they were back on the road and heading for parts unknown, the happier she’d be.

The only question now was how she could either change cars or find another license plate that wouldn’t reveal her origin. If she’d been a thief like Roy, she’d have simply stolen one. Being an honest person could be difficult at times, couldn’t it?

She glanced Heavenward. “Father, how about leaving a discarded license plate along the road somewhere, huh? I know it’s a lot to ask, but…”

“Mama?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Are you praying?”

“Yes, Patty,” Marie said with a nod. “I sure am.”

“Good,” the little girl answered, hurrying to keep pace with her mother’s rapid strides, “’cause you lied and I don’t want God to be mad at you.”