Plain Sanctuary. Alison Stone

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      The man’s words became jumbled and sounded like they were coming from the other end of a long, narrow empty tunnel. She blinked slowly, feeling as if she was floating above her body. Maybe if she pinched herself, she’d wake up from this nightmare.

      Brian escaped. Brian escaped. Brian escaped.

      Unable to wrap her mind around that simple concept. No, not a simple concept. A completely impossible concept. How did someone escape from a maximum-security facility? Even with help? She turned and placed the flat of her hand on the cool countertop, trying to ground herself. “Explain what’s going on. Now.” Her fear came out as anger.

      “Would you like to sit down?” He pulled out a chair at the small kitchen table, the one she’d sat at earlier planning the future of the bed-and-breakfast. Her future...

      It took Heather a moment to hear his words, process their meaning. She looked up at him, trying to keep her lips from trembling. When had he moved to stand so close to her? Her anxiety spiked and she slid closer to the door. Away from him. Toward her escape.

      Always have an escape.

      That had been her mistake with Brian. She had been swept off her feet as a young girl. Married him. Then when things turned violent, she had no job. No place to run. No escape.

      Until not escaping would have meant certain death.

      It had for his second wife.

      A shudder coursed through her and she wrapped her hands around the edge of the sink, ignoring the man’s offer to sit down. Lifting her gaze to the window, she saw her hollow eyes reflecting back at her.

      Was Brian out there watching her?

      She spun around and squared off with the U.S. Marshal who had come to share this horrible news.

      “What happens now? I’m renovating this bed-and-breakfast. I have plans...”

      She looked up and tuned into the narrow wood shelf lining the top of her grandmother’s plain pine cabinets. Her grandmother had a collection of hand-cut wood blocks that Heather recognized as buildings located in the center of Quail Hollow. She wondered if the Amish would have allowed such frivolous decorations, but Heather assumed her grandmother may have bent a few of the rules after losing so much. What punishment could the Amish elders have dished out to her mammy for a few wooden decorations when she had already suffered the worst fate: her daughter had been murdered and her son-in-law left Quail Hollow with her three young granddaughters never to return?

      What would her mammy think if she knew her granddaughter had almost suffered the same fate as her daughter? However, her mother had died at the hands of a stranger. Heather had been threatened by the man she had once loved. Were some families prone to violence?

      Heather shook her head at the ridiculousness of that thought. Her mind had a tendency to race when she was stressed. To think the most random thoughts.

      Focus.

      Heather grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with tap water. Then she turned to face the man in her kitchen. “Why do you think he’s coming for me?”

      But she knew, didn’t she?

      Her hand began to shake and she set the glass down. “I haven’t had contact with him since...the trial.” That was when she had finally faced the man who had abused her for years. When she finally stood up to him.

      An emotion she couldn’t name flitted in the depths of his eyes. “We have reason to believe he’s obsessed with you and may be headed your way.”

      Thick emotion clogged her throat. “How is that possible?” But deep down she knew. Brian Fox was an egotistical psychopath and she had escaped his clutches. He’d also vowed that he would kill her if she ever left him. Her ex-husband didn’t like to fail. Now he was taking his one shot at freedom to right his one failure.

      Her.

      * * *

      Heather’s entire body shook. The yellow light in the kitchen of the old farmhouse made her pallor more pronounced. She pulled out the chair and slumped into it, placing her elbows on the table and digging her fingers into her hair.

      “Do you have someplace you can go?” Zach hovered over her, then realized he might get a better response if he sat down across from her. Less threatening.

      After a moment, she glanced up. A silent tear slid down her cheek. Law enforcement officers learned to separate their feelings from the job, but this case was too personal not to feel heartache for this woman.

      “No, I don’t have someplace to go. I spent every dime I had on renovations. I moved out of my apartment today. Today! It’s like he knew how to mess with me.” She held up her palms, disbelief threading her tone. “I’m opening a bed-and-breakfast. I’ve decided to name it Quail Hollow Bed & Breakfast. Simple, but appropriate. Renovations are nearing completion. I’ve worked so hard.” Her tone had a weary quality, probably a mix of her frustration with the contractors and the new bomb he had dropped on her: her violent ex-husband was tracking his way across Western New York to continue his reign of terror.

      “Could you delay the opening? Just until Fox is back in custody?”

      “Maybe he won’t find me. It’s not like I’m on social media or anything advertising where I live.” The hope in her voice was like a knife twisting in his heart. How could one man cause so much havoc?

      “We were able to track you down through a real estate transaction. Easily. He could do the same.” Zach resisted the urge to reach out and cover her hand. Comfort her. But it wasn’t his place. He hardly knew Heather. He only knew what she had done for his family. She stepped up at his sister’s murder trial when it counted. Now he had to keep her safe.

      Heather straightened and pounded a fist on the table. “That jerk took my twenties from me. I refuse to let him take any more.”

      Anger pulsed through his veins. “Fox could take your life.”

      Heather jerked her head back as if she had been slapped, but instead of crumbling, she seemed to grow angrier. She pushed back her chair. It slammed into the wall behind her, then crashed to the floor. She stepped over it and paced the small space. Then she turned to face him, jabbing her index finger in his direction. “Don’t you think I know that? I left him in the middle of the night with only a few dollars and the clothes on my back. I made sure I stayed off the grid. I lost touch with my family. I moved every few months when I thought he might be closing in. I don’t know when he stopped looking for me, but I know when I stopped fearing him. When he went to prison for murdering—” her voice faltered “—for killing your sister.” She pressed her palms together and touched her lips with the tips of her fingers. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t pray for Jill. And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t thank God for sparing my life.”

      Heather bent over and righted the chair and tucked it under the table. Wrapping her hands around the back of the chair, she leaned toward him. “I’m not going to run. I don’t want to bring danger to anyone else’s doorstep. I’ve run too often in the past to have established any solid friendships to impose upon. And I have no money to leave on my own.” She placed her hand on her midsection. “It’s like I’m trapped all over again.”

      “There СКАЧАТЬ