​#1. How long did it take to finish writing this book?
I wrote 11 pages when Daryle first died, then pushed it away and decided that this was an impossible task for me until the Holy Spirit physically told someone to tell me to finish it! So, with His help in all hours of day and night I wrote it in 3 weeks. Then with editing it took 3 years unto completion.

​What do you do when writing a book was never on your radar? Answer, you write it in tune with the Holy Spirit in three weeks! An amazing hand-written letter from God, original poetry, and prophetic words from the Lord delivered to my doorstep and so much more! You are never alone when you are hurting or grieving and if you allow Him, God will be undeniably present and you will know His heart for you.

Texas Book-aholic, February 4
Debbie’s Dusty Deliberations, February 5
Vicky Sluiter, February 6 (Author Interview)
Inklings and notions, February 7
For Him and My Family, February 8
deb’s Book Review, February 9
Abba’s Prayer Warrior Princess, February 10
Tell Tale Book Reviews, February 11 (Author Interview)
Lots of Helpers, February 12
CarpeDiem, February 13
A Reader’s Brain, February 14
For the Love of Literature, February 15 (Author Interview)
Truth and Grace Homeschool Academy, February 16
Artistic Nobody, February 17 (Author Interview)

​Wreck The Halls was a nice little holiday themed novella. A relatively quick and easy read, I finished in pretty short order. After all, it's hard to put down a The Worst Detective Every Mystery Series book don'tcha know. I read this not long after Christmas on a cold and snowy day that was much better to be indoors solving a mystery. So that's exactly what I did.

Do you enjoy murder and mayhem during the Christmas season like I do? Love quirky characters and the charming setting of North Carolina's Outer Banks? Want to laugh as you attempt to solve the mystery along with the heroine? Well, Christy Barritt has the perfect little novella for you in the form of Wreck The Halls.

Tell Tale Book Reviews gives Wreck The Halls by Christy Barritt a 4 Bark rating.

​Once again I've gotten introduced to a new-to-me author through an audiobook. That's right, I had heard of Jennifer Lamont Leo's first book in her Roaring Twenties series but hadn't read You're The Cream In My Coffee. What did I think? Well, I really liked it! 1920s Chicago and the Marshall Fields department store came alive for me in full color. I sincerely enjoyed the small-town girl goes to the big city and finds both romance and adventure storyline. Marjorie's struggles to find the answers she is looking for without compromising her smalltown values, her morals or her faith was refreshing in the sea of career-obsessed women stories. But I'm gonna admit it here, there were two characters that I just wanted to slap for their self-centered jerkness, they made me so mad! Anyway, I liked the element of mystery. Was it really Jack that she saw? And if so, why didn't he come home to her after the Great War? Well, you're just going to have to read/listen yourself to find out.

I listened to the audiobook version You're The Cream In My Coffee and it was pretty good. The narrator's voice was especially good for the character she portrayed. Overall the production was good though there were some rather noticeable audio editing problem spots, mainly around chapters 12-13 and then scattered through the rest of the audiobook. The issues were distracting while they happened but didn't change my opinion of how much I enjoyed the story. I definitely plan on finding out what comes next in the series for Marjorie's colorful friend Dot...

Tell Tale Book Reviews gives You're The Cream In My Coffee by Jennifer Lamont Leo a 4 Bark rating.

Feeling a little frazzled by life? Then, come with me to the peaceful and serene Amish Community of West Kootenai, (Rexford) Montana and let’s rest for a while amongst the rugged beauty that can be found there.  ​

As you cross over the Lake Koocanusa bridge, you will find yourself going back in time to a different way of life. Simpler. Peaceful. Unencumbered by modern technology.

​
Yet be warned. Even in this tranquil setting, amongst the Plain people of Montana, danger still exists! ​

So, join me on a rollercoaster ride of suspense, romance, and unyielding faith that is Amish Suspense. ​

An Amish widow, fighting for her life and her sister’s freedom, must unravel the past
​hidden away in her head, if she stands a chance at bringing her sister home alive. 

Publisher’s Weekly Bestseller, Amish Country Kidnapping by Mary Alford
​
​For this Amish widow, nowhere is safe...
Unless she trusts the Englischer she once loved.

Waking up to a man trying to kidnap her is Amish widow Rachel Albrecht’s most terrifying moment—until she discovers he’s already taken her teenaged sister. Now Rachel’s life—and her sister’s—depends on her first love, Englischer deputy Noah Warren. But the danger of rekindling their forbidden love is the least of Rachel’s worries with her family in a killer’s sights…

​ONE

Breathe! The disjointed thought sped through Rachel Albrecht’s mind. Her eyes snapped open. She struggled to draw enough air into her lungs. Something covered her mouth and nose. Her heart accelerated as she glanced around the familiar bedroom she once shared with her husband, unable to understand what was happening.

Her last memory was of falling asleep in her favorite chair reading the Bible while waiting for her sister, Eva, to return. Now darkness flooded the room. The lantern’s wick had gone out. Through the pitch-black of night, the truth became horrifying. A strange man towered above her, his big gloved hand covering part of her face. She clawed at it as the last bit of air left her body.

He leaned in close, his face completely obscured by a ski mask, only his eyes visible. They burned into hers, the evil filling them chilling.

“You’re coming with me,” he growled, then removed his hand and hauled her from the chair. The Bible fell to the floor at her feet.

Air rushed into her lungs and she coughed, her eyes filling with tears as she continued to drag in breaths.
“Let’s go,” he ordered and pointed to the door. He shoved something against her side. A gun! The sight of it promised all sorts of unwelcome outcomes. She needed help.

His hot breath fanned across her cheek, his big body blocking her path to the door. If she could make it to the closet, Daniel’s old shotgun was stored there. Though her husband never kept the weapon loaded, she knew where the bullets were and could use the gun to defend herself.

Breaking free, she ran for the closet, her heart echoing in her ears. Rachel barely managed a couple of steps before his hand snaked around her shoulder. She lost her balance and sprawled across the floor.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he snarled. Grabbing a handful of her loose hair, he hauled her to her feet. Pieces of hair were ripped from her scalp. Rachel screamed, frantically scratching at his arms, his chest, anything to free herself.

He jerked her against his body and smacked her hard with his open hand. “That’s for trying to get away from me. You’ve wasted enough of my time. Now, let’s go.”

His hand clutched her arm tight. The gun bit into her ribs.
​
With all her strength, she tried to twist free, but his grip tightened, fingers digging into her arm. “Eva, run!” Rachel yelled as loud as she could, thinking only of her seventeen-year-old sister asleep in the bedroom next to hers. 

Her memory is a blank. But with a serial killer coming after her, Catherine Fisher had better
​figure out what she and a killer have in common soon, before she becomes his next victim. 

Amish Country Murder by Mary Alford
Coming March 1st, 2020

An Amish woman targeted by a serial killer is the only living witness…
As the sole woman to escape the Dead of Night Killer, Catherine Fisher’s the key to catching him—if he doesn’t kill her first. Now it’s up to FBI agent Sutter Brenneman to protect her. But with her memory missing and all clues indicating the serial killer took her for very personal reasons, it’ll take everything Sutter has to keep her safe.

ONE

​Her memory before waking up in the basement the night before was blank. Her head ached. Vision blurred. Dried blood caked the makeshift bandage secured around her head. She was completely at her kidnapper’s mercy. And he had none.

Thinking clearly with her heart threatening to explode from her chest was nearly impossible, but she had to try.

Her hands were zip-tied in front of her body. Beneath her, the cold of the cement floor seeped deep into her limbs. She was tethered to a support beam by a rope around her ankle.

He’d blindfolded her, but she’d pulled it free the second he was gone. She’d been in and out of consciousness most of the day, her body broken from the things he’d put her through.

The room was dark now. A twelve-by-twelve-inch window displayed the blackness of the night outside.

Through the drilling pain in her head, a niggling of something far more terrifying was just out of her reach. A nightmare waiting to be revealed. Last night, when she’d awakened to find the monster standing over her, she thought she’d heard another woman scream. Her stomach clenched. She prayed it was but a hallucination.

“Is anyone there?” Her frightened voice echoed through the basement and received no answer.

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t remember anything from her past beyond waking up in this basement to him. Not how she’d come to be here, or what she’d been doing before he took her. Nothing. Yet one thing was clear. Without help, she would not walk out of this basement alive.

Outside, a car slowed. The garage door chugged up and fear spiraled throughout her body. He was home.
​

Mary Alford is generously giving away a copy of both
​Amish Country Kidnapping and Amish Country Murder to one person.

Print (USA readers)  OR  E-Book (INTERNATIONAL readers)

Genre: Christian Fantasy
Release Date: January 14, 2020

​Will she seek a new dance pattern from her Creator?

Fantasy has never been my genre of choice but over the years I've started to step out of Narnia and Middle Earth, discovering new worlds and some pretty good quality fiction. Hidden Current was one such peregrination. I was first attracted to the book by the pretty cover, and then, when I read the blurb it sounded different than any other fantasy novel I've read. Though, Sharon Hinck is a new-to-me-author I didn't let that stand in my way, as all good voracious readers do not, and I went ahead and dived in.

I was actually quite pleased with Hidden Current. It captured both my attention and imagination quite completely. Despite the nearly 300 pages I finished the book in a day, I started in the late morning and finished that evening. I was just so curious about where Sharon Hinck would take her characters, not to mention readers, that I couldn't put it down.

There are few miscellaneous things that I'd like to mention about the book. One is that it is very much Christian fantasy, there are many Biblical parallels and truths but it still retains that true fantasy vibe. The second is that the story is told from a first person perspective, and it was done very very well. The third is that the author's own dance experience shines through on every page lending a vivid authenticity that helps the reader to become thoroughly immersed in the story. Another thing is that, while the book obviously has a YA bent, it can be enjoyed by any age. And the last thing is that I thought the romance element was well played, it's there but does not hijack the story away from the more important themes.

Can you tell yet that I really enjoyed Hidden Current? Though the year is still young it was one of my favorites so far. Sharon Hinck may be a new-to-me-author but it will not stay that way all. The hardest thing now is going to be having to wait for the next book in The Dancing Realms series...

Tell Tale Book Reviews gives Hidden Current by Sharon Hinck 4.5 Bark rating.

​​Have you ever felt that nothing you do is ever enough? Not good enough? Meaningful enough? Do you ever think that if you could be more perfect, all your problems would be solved? In my new novel, I explore a character whose entire culture tells her that she must achieve perfection – and that answers to her world’s problems rest solely on human effort. Set in an imaginative fantasy world, I hope her journey will ring true for readers in our world.
I’m so excited to finally be able to share my new novel, Hidden Current, with readers. Can you see me Snoopy dancing?
And speaking of dancing …

Is this similar to the Sword of Lyric books?
Yes and no. It’s not a “portal fantasy” – no modern-day character visits this world. However, like my other fantasy series, the book was inspired by spiritual themes, delves deeply into the heart of a character that many of us can relate to, and paints a unique story world full of both beauty and dangers. I’m so excited for its release!
​

​Inklings and notions, January 25
Texas Book-aholic, January 26
Library Lady’s Kid Lit, January 27
Artistic Nobody, January 28 (Author Interview)
Debbie’s Dusty Deliberations, January 28
Fiction Aficionado, January 29
janicesbookreviews, January 30
Emily Yager, January 31
For the Love of Literature, February 1
Wishful Endings, February 2 (Author Interview)
Mia Reads, February 2
Truth and Grace Homeschool Academy, February 3
Blogging With Carol, February 4
Tell Tale Book Reviews, February 5
Worthy2Read, February 6
Pause for Tales, February 7

​Caroline Adams returns to Indian Territory craving adventure after tiring of society life. When she comes across swaggering outlaw Frisco Smith, his dreams to obtain a piece of property on the Unassigned Lands are very persuasive. When the gun sounds, they find themselves battling over a claim--and both dig in their heels.

ISBN-13: 9780764218958

​#1. Coffee or Tea? Neither, unless I can pick sweet tea.
​

#2. Print or E-reader? Print. I like to see where I am in a book, plus I already get enough screen time.
​

#6. Historical or Suspense?​ Is historical suspense an option? No? Then historical, of course.
​

#7. Green or Pink? Green, I guess.
​

Bonus. Share with us a thought, Bible verse, whatever is on your mind/heart.
On my mind lately: 

Initially this verse seemed contradictory. Is the crown of life for the one who endures temptation, or the one who loves the Lord? But then I realized that the love of God is what keeps us from temptation. When we value Him more than what else we’re being offered, it will strengthen us to reject the temptation. Thus, the reward comes to those who have endured temptation because of their love for the Lord.

Regina Jennings is generously giving away
a print copy of The Major's Daughter

USA ONLY

​Genre:
Historical Romance

​I'm a little more mixed on the audiobook part. I didn't really click with the narrator and there were a couple of glitches in the recording. But...I still enjoyed listening to the story and I wouldn't hesitate to suggest this audiobook to others. It's a sweet historical romance and so it's easy to step over any little problems. The adorable precocious little boys, their teacher and her champion, more than make up for anything. So, if you have limited time but want to listen to something, why not check out Eleven Pipers Piping from Angela Breidenbach.

Tell Tale Book Reviews gives Eleven Pipers Piping by Angela Breidenbach a 4 Bark rating.

Staying hidden has kept her alive…
But now she’s been found.

​A remote Colorado mountain town and a fake identity have been Ashley Willis’s safe haven since fleeing after she witnessed a murder—but now the killer has found her trail. Desperate and terrified, she’s prepared to run again…but Deputy Sheriff Chase Fredrick won’t let her. With the lawman by her side, can she face danger head-on…and live long enough to bring a murderer to justice?

ISBN-13: 9781335402561

Get Your Own Copy
AMAZON  ■  HARLEQUIN

ONE

​It couldn’t be.
Ice filled Ashley Willis’s veins despite the spring sunshine streaming through the living room windows of the Bristle Township home in Colorado where she rented a bedroom.
Disbelief cemented her feet to the floor, her gaze riveted to the horrific images on the television screen.
Flames shot of out of the two-story building she’d hoped never to see again. Its once bright red awnings were now singed black and the magnificent stained-glass windows depicting the image of an angry bull were no more.
She knew that place intimately.
The same place that haunted her nightmares.
The newscaster’s words assaulted her. She grabbed onto the back of the faded floral couch for support.
In a fiery inferno, the posh Burbank restaurant The Matador, was consumed by a raging fire in the wee hours of the morning. Firefighters are working diligently to douse the flames. So far there have been no fatalities, however, there has been one critical injury.
Ashley’s heart thumped painfully in her chest, reminding her to breath. Concern for her friend, Gregor, the man who had safely spirited her away from the Los Angeles area one frightening night a year and a half ago when she’d witnessed her boss, Maksim Sokolov, kill a man, thrummed through her. She had to know what happened. She had to know if Gregor was the one injured.
She had to know if this had anything to do with her.
“Mrs. Marsh,” Ashley called out. “Would you mind if I use your cell phone?”
Her landlady, a widow in her mid-eighties, appeared in the archway between the living room and kitchen. Her hot-pink tracksuit hung on her stooped shoulders but it was her bright smile that always tugged at Ashley’s heart. The woman was a spitfire with her blue-gray hair and her kind green eyes behind thick spectacles.
“Of course, dear. It’s in my purse.” She pointed to the black satchel on the dining room table. “Though you know, as I keep saying, you should get your own cell phone. It’s not safe for a young lady to be walking around without any means of calling for help.”
They had been over this ground before. Ashley didn’t want anything attached to her name.
Or rather, her assumed identity—Jane Thompson.
Putting the name she was using in some system where it could be flagged and she could be discovered in Bristle Township was a disaster she wanted to avoid at all costs.
So far, using the identification Gregor had given her had worked. She’d been too stunned at the time to question where he’d obtained the driver’s license, social security card and credit card, all with the name Jane Thompson. She suspected she wouldn’t have liked the answer had she asked. No one so far had questioned that she wasn’t Jane Thompson. She didn’t know what she’d do if the thin line keeping her safe disappeared and her true identity became known.
A shudder of dread, followed closely by a jab of guilt at deceiving the good people of Bristle Township, made her gut tighten. She prayed God would forgive her for doing what she had to in order to survive.
“I just need to make a quick phone call,” Ashley assured her landlady as the urgent drive to know who was injured consumed her.
If she could have bought a burner phone in Bristle Township she would have, but that wasn’t an option. First, none of the local stores carried one, she’d discreetly searched, and second, everyone would know about such a purchase the moment she made it.
Thankfully, Mrs. Marsh’s data plan included free long distance, as well as Wi-Fi. Mrs. Marsh’s children, who both lived in Texas, had sent her the phone so that they could communicate with her.
With phone in hand, Ashley quickly searched for the hospitals in and around the Burbank area. She called each listed and on the fourth try found the hospital where the critically injured victim of The Matador fire had been taken.
Her heart sank to have her fear confirmed that Gregor Kominski, the restaurant’s manager, had been the one hurt. Anxiety made her limbs shake beneath the khaki pants and long sleeve T-shirt sporting the Java Bean logo on the front breast pocket and the back. She had been on her way out the door for work when she’d seen the news.
Had the fire been set intentionally? Had Gregor suffered because of her?
“Are you a relative of Mr. Kominski’s?” the woman from the hospital on the other end of the line questioned.
Biting her lip, Ashley debated her answer. She didn’t want to lie, but she doubted they would give her much information if she admitted she wasn’t related to the man. Finally, she hedged, allowing the woman to make her own assumption. “I’m calling from out of town. What can you tell me? Is he going to be okay?”
“He remains in critical condition,” the woman said. “Would you like to leave a name and a number for updates?”
Ashley quickly hung up. No, she didn’t want to leave a name and number. She didn’t want there to be any trace of her reaching out for information. The call had been a risk. One she hoped she wouldn’t have to pay for with her life.
*
Gossip in Bristle Township traveled faster than the wind off the mountain. Ashley couldn’t help but overhear several customers of the Java Bean coffee shop talking about a detective from California asking questions about a mysterious woman.
Heart beating in her throat, Ashley spilled milk all over the espresso machine. With shaky hands, she quickly wiped up the mess and finished making the specialty drink.
Just this morning she’d learned of the fire that had destroyed The Matador restaurant and sent her friend to the hospital. Now a police officer from the same state was in town. Coincidence? Or was she on the verge of being discovered?
Ethan Johnson, a local farmer, stared at her from beneath the brim of a well-worn baseball cap as she handed him the steaming cup of mocha cappuccino. “Do you have a sister?”
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she mutely shook her head.
“Hmm. I guess we all have a doppelganger,” he commented. His blue veined hands cupped the to-go container as if the warmth of the liquid inside was soothing to the arthritis evident in the swollen joints of his fingers.
Forcing herself to speak, she asked, “Why do you say that?”
“You vaguely resemble the woman in the photo the lawman was asking me about,” he replied with a shrug. He lifted the cup and blew through the hole on the lid as he walked away.
Though she barely resembled her old self, terror of being exposed ripped through Ashley. She’d been careful to keep her appearance understated so she could blend in better. Though the dye job she’d done right before landing in Bristle Township hadn’t turned out quite the way she’d expected. Much too flashy.
The carton of hair dye had claimed she’d end up with honey blond hair. She touched the short platinum blond strands curling around her face. Sudden sadness and anger at the circumstances that had forced her to change not only her hair color and style but also her whole life swamped her, weighing her down.
One simple distracted moment and her world had spun out of control.
Knowing things could be so much worse—she could be dead—she quickly removed her apron and hurried over to the owner of the Java Bean, Stephen Humphrey. He was a big teddy bear of a man with two teenage kids who helped out on the weekends.
“Hey, boss. I need to take a break, if that’s okay. I forgot I promised Mrs. Marsh I would help her with something.” Like protecting her from me.
Ashley’s insides twisted with guilt. She hated having to keep her true identity a secret from these people who had shown her such kindness.
She knew Stephen had a soft spot for Mrs. Marsh. The whole town did. Mrs. Marsh and her late husband had been beloved grade school teachers. Everyone who had grown up in town had been in her or her late husband’s classes. Ashley had heard so many wonderful stories of how Mr. and Mrs. Marsh had made a difference in people’s lives.
Just as Mrs. Marsh was making a huge difference in Ashley’s life. More guilt and regret heaped on her head, making her scalp tingle. She wanted to scrub the past year and a half away, go back in time and undo what was done. But she couldn’t.
The only thing she could do was run to stay alive.
“Sure,” Stephen replied. “Just be back for the afternoon rush.”
She smiled tightly but refrained from promising. It was time for her to leave Bristle Township as soon as possible. The thought pinched, creating a pang of sorrow. She liked the town and her job. She’d started to make friends, letting people into her heart. Foolish on her part.
Over the last year she’d saved up so she could afford to move on. She’d only stopped in the small mountainside community and taken the job at the coffee shop because she’d run out of the money Gregor had given her. He’d told her never to contact him again and she hadn’t wanted to put her mother in danger by contacting her.
Not that Irene Willis would have been in any position to help her only child, nor would she have made much effort if she could. Irene barely made a living waiting tables at a truck stop outside Barstow, California, and Ashley was positive her mom’s life was less complicated without her daughter to set off her temper. One of the many reasons Ashley had left as quickly as she could when she turned eighteen.
Ashley’s only option had been staying in one place long enough to earn more money to keep running for her life. She hadn’t meant to stay so long. But life had become comfortable and she’d believed herself secure in this quaint mountain hamlet. Maybe if she’d stayed in Barstow or chosen a different path, she wouldn’t be here now.
An illusion of safety had kept her here. Another mistake she couldn’t afford. And now she was on the brink of being found out. She had no doubt that the detective was hunting for her. She couldn’t let him succeed in tracking her down.
She hurried out the back entrance of the Java Bean, taking a deep breath of the pine-scented air. She crossed the town park, trying to keep a low profile. The park was filled with moms and their children too young for school. A few elderly couples strolled along the street. A horn honked, startling Ashley. She glanced around, fear slithering through her, making her muscles tense. Two cars vied for the same parking space in front of the bookstore on the main street. Breathing a little easier she hurried on, cutting through the library parking lot, and walked fast down the residential street leading to Mrs. Marsh’s place.
The trees along the sidewalk were beginning to blossom. Soft pink petals floated to the ground on a slight breeze. Ashley barely noticed the beauty today, her mind tormented with anxiety.
Managing to reach the boarding house without being seen, she gathered her meager belongings, left an apologetic note and some cash for Mrs. Marsh. Then putting up the hood of her navy down jacket to cover her bright hair, she retraced the same path she’d taken earlier and made her way to the Bristle Hotel where the interstate bus picked up and dropped off passengers.
A teenager on a bike rode by, waving at her. She had no choice but to wave back to Brady Gallo. Maybe he wouldn’t mention to his older sister that he’d seen Jane. It pained Ashley to leave Maya, Leslie and Kaitlyn—the three women who’d befriended her—without a goodbye, but it couldn’t be helped.
At the Bristle Hotel, a beautiful old building that dated back to the township’s conception, Ashley checked with the front desk clerk and learned a bus was due to arrive within minutes and was headed to Montana. She bought a ticket and then took a position behind a pillar on the wide porch to wait for the bus. There were a couple of other people waiting and she purposely ignored them. The last thing she needed was to engage in idle conversation.
She hoped and prayed she made it out of town before she was found or stopped.
The bus rolled in and she hurried to stow her bag in the undercarriage compartment, then moved to wait at the door behind a guy who needed a shower. The stench coming from his unwashed hair made her eyes water. He’d probably been hiking on the popular trails that began right on the edge of Bristle and threaded up into the mountains.
She hung back as long as she dared, allowing space between them. There were already several people onboard the bus. Seemed Montana was the destination of choice today.
The guy in front of her showed his ticket to the driver and boarded.
“Jane! Wait.”
Hesitating, Ashley warily turned to find Deputy Chase Fredrick striding toward her, undeniably handsome in his brown uniform. His sandy blond hair swept over his forehead in an appealing way and his intense blue eyes bore into her. He’d always been kind and charming when he’d come into the Java Bean for coffee.
In different circumstances, she might have been tempted to flirt with him, but there was no place in her life for a man. It was bad enough she’d made friends who were going to be hurt and disappointed by her departure. She regretted causing anyone pain and wouldn’t make that mistake again.
What did the deputy want? Dread clawed through her. Was her ruse up? Would she find herself in jail? Or worse—dead?
Desperate to get on the bus, Ashley thrust her ticket to the driver, but he didn’t reach for it as he stared at her a moment and then turned his gaze to the deputy who’d come to a halt at her side and touched her elbow.
Panic revved Ashley’s pulse. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” His blue gaze searched her face. “Why are you leaving town?”
Stiffening her spine, she replied, “It’s none of your business.”
“It is my business if you’re a criminal,” he stated in a low voice.
She drew back. Fear fluttered in her chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Turning to the bus driver, Chase said, “She won’t be taking this bus. Can you unload her bags?”
Giving Ashley a cautious glance, the driver’s head bobbed. “Straight away, Officer.”
“No! I have to go,” she protested. “I need to get on this bus.”
The driver hurried to the cargo hold and dragged her duffel out, setting it on the ground before resuming his position at the bus door.
Drawing her away from the curious gazes, Chase said, “Jane, be straight with me. There’s a detective from Los Angeles here searching for a woman wanted in connection with a murder. And I’m pretty sure the woman in the photo he has is you.”
Her stomach dropped. Fear squeezed her lungs, making breathing difficult.
“Did you kill a man?”
She swallowed back the bile rising to burn her throat. “Of course not. I could never—I wouldn’t—”
She wasn’t a murderer.
But she knew who was.
Gregor had warned her not to tell anyone, not even the police. They were not to be trusted, he’d said. “I’ve got to go. This is the only bus out today.”
“You’re not going anywhere—” Chase’s voice was hard and his eyes glittered with warning “—until you tell me the truth.”
“Last call,” the bus driver called out, sliding a cautious glance their way.
Her gaze darted from the bus to Chase. “Please,” she pleaded. “I need to leave. You don’t understand. If he finds me, he’ll kill me.”
Confusion tampered down the hardness of Chase’s features. “Jane, trust me. I can protect you. Just tell me what it is you’re running from.”
She shook her head and took a step back. “No. I was warned not to say anything. Not even to the police. I can’t trust you. I can’t trust anyone.”
The driver stepped into the bus and closed the door. The bus’s engine rumbled and a few seconds later a plume of exhaust filled the air as the bus drove away. Frustration pounded a rapid beat at her temple. Now she was trapped with no way out.
Chase snagged her hand and gently coaxed her fist open. “Jane, listen to me carefully.” His voice softened to a smooth tone that seemed to coil inside of her. Her pulse leaped. His touch soothed.
“My job is to protect and serve the citizens of Bristle Township. You are one of its citizens.” The intensity in his clear gaze mesmerized her. “I will protect you. If you committed a crime, it is better for you to face it than to run.”
Though his hands were warm and reassuring, her heart turned cold. She jerked away from him. “No. I didn’t commit a crime. I didn’t see anything. I don’t know anything.”
He stepped closer, invading her space. “I understand you’re afraid. Whatever it is, I will be with you the whole way. Please, trust me.”
She angled her head to stare at him. “Why is my trust so important to you?”
As if her words were a splash of cold water, he abruptly stepped back. “It’s my job to protect you.”
She shook her head with a dash of cynicism. “I know you want to believe you can protect me, but the type of people I need protection from don’t respect authority. They’d just as soon kill you as look at you.”
Chase stood tall as if her words had been a personal assault. “Jane, tell me what you know.”
She glanced around to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard. She hated how exposed and vulnerable she felt out in the open. She gestured for him to follow her beneath the shade of a large Douglas fir. “If I tell you, will you help me get out of here?”
“If you tell me, I promise I will protect you.”
More frustration bubbled inside her. What choice did she have? Her only option was to trust Chase and his promise of protection until she had an opportunity to run again. She had to stay vigilant if she wanted to stay alive.
Her heart raced. Her gaze darted from shadow to shadow, half expecting Maksim Sokolov to step out from behind a tree like a bogeyman from a horror movie. “A year and a half ago—” her voice dipped as the secret she’d held inside escaped like a bat out of a dark cave “—I witnessed a murder.”
*
Jane’s words echoed through Chase’s brain. Sympathy squeezed his heart. Ever since the detective, who’d appeared this morning without warning at the sheriff station, had shown Chase the photo of a woman with long dark hair and bangs dressed in a black dress and pumps at the back door of a brick building, Chase’s stomach had been tied in knots.
Though only the woman’s profile had been visible, there had been something vaguely familiar about the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw. And then it had come to him. The woman in the photo was Jane.
And she apparently was hiding in Bristle Township because she’d witnessed a murder. “Tell me what happened.”
She shook her head. “If the killer finds out that I can identify him…” A visible shudder rippled through her. “He will kill me and anyone else in his path.”
Her palpable fear sent all his protective instincts into high gear. She was in danger. Her life threatened by what she’d seen. Reining in the urge to comfort and assure her that she was safe, he let his training prompt him to ask, “Why is Detective Peters convinced you’re involved?”
She turned to pluck the bark off the tree. Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know.”
Was he being played? He sent up a quick prayer, asking for God’s wisdom and guidance here. Keeping his voice from betraying the anxiety her words caused, he said, “We have to get you to the sheriff’s station so you can give your statement. You need to be brave now.”
Chase hoped she would come willingly. He didn’t want to have to compel her by putting her in cuffs.
For a long moment, she simply stared at him. He could see her inner debate with herself playing out on her face. Trust him or not.
He couldn’t help her with the decision.
Finally, she seemed to deflate. “I’m so tired of being scared. I want to be brave.”
He covered her icy hand. “I’ll help you.”
Snagging her duffel with his free hand, he walked with her away from the hotel. They hadn’t gone far when a black SUV pulled up alongside them and Detective William Peters hopped out. The tall bulky man wore a wrinkled gray suit, white button-down shirt and red tie. His dark hair brushed the edges of his collar.
There was something about the man’s gruff demeanor that had rankled Chase from the second they’d met. He chalked it up to city vs. small town. One of the many reasons Chase left the Chicago PD after only a year. He hadn’t wanted to become jaded like so many of his fellow officers.
Chase believed in good over evil, that the right side of the law would win in the end. And justice wasn’t prejudiced or affected by social status. Maybe that made him naive as some had said. He didn’t care. He had faith that he was doing what God wanted for his life.
Detective Peters’s dark eyes glittered with triumph. “There you are.” He opened the rear passenger door. “Get in. We have a plane to catch.”
Jane clutched Chase’s arm. She made no move to comply.
“Hold on a minute,” Chase told the detective. “We need to do this the right way. We go to the sheriff’s station so we can make a proper transfer to your custody.”
Peters shook his head. “No way. She’s coming with me now. I have a warrant that gives me the right to take her into custody on sight.”
Chase didn’t recall any mention of a warrant. “The sheriff will want to talk with her.”
“There’s no time for that.” Peters’s stepped forward and grabbed Jane by the arm, yanking her from Chase’s grasp. He pushed her inside the back passenger side of the SUV.
“You can’t just take her away,” Chase argued. “There’s protocol to follow.”
Peters got in Chase’s face. “Back off. If you have an issue, then call the brass. I’ve got my orders.”
“Chase?”
Jane’s anxiety curled through Chase. “I’m going with you. I’ll get my own plane ticket. Even if I have to fly on a different airline.” He stepped forward to slide into the back seat with Jane when Peters slammed the door shut, blocking Chase from following her into the vehicle.
Peters shoved Chase back a step and glared. “This is my collar, not yours. I’m not letting some Podunk deputy interfere with my investigation.”
Taken aback by the man’s hostility, Chase put his hand on the butt of his weapon. Drawing on a fellow officer wasn’t something he wanted to do, but if the man continued with his aggressive behavior, Chase would have little choice. “She’s a witness, not a suspect.”
“That’s for others with a higher pay grade to decide. She’s coming with me.” Peters jumped into the vehicle.
Chase grabbed the back door handle but it was locked. He banged on the driver’s side window. “You can’t just take her like this.”
The SUV’s engine revved. Peters hit the gas and the SUV peeled away, forcing Chase to jump aside to avoid being hit.
This wasn’t right. There was a proper way of doing things. Chase ran to the sheriff’s station. At the front desk, he asked Carole if she could get the chief of the Los Angeles Police Department on the line for the sheriff. Then he moved into the inner sanctuary of the station. His voice shook with anger as he told the sheriff and the other deputies about Jane and what had just transpired.
“I’ve got the Burbank Police Department on the line,” Carole called from her desk. “Should I send the call to your desk, Sheriff?”
“No, send it to Chase’s,” Sheriff Ryder replied.
Stunned, Chase stared. “Sir?”
“You’re running point on this one,” the sheriff replied.
Not about to question his boss, Chase sat at his desk and punched the blinking light. A second later a man’s deep voice came on the line. “Chief Macintosh, how can I help you?”
Chase hurriedly explained the situation, giving his protest at the detective’s manhandling of their citizen.
There was a long pause before Chief McIntosh replied, “You say this man had Detective William Peters’s identification?”
A strange question. An unsettled apprehension curled through Chase. “He did.” 
“The man’s an imposter,” Macintosh said. “Detective William Peters is dead. Murdered during an undercover operation.”

Terri Reed is generously giving away
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