“You’re safe in Owl Creek now,” she whispered to herself as her eyelids grew heavier and she drifted into slumber.
The next morning Isabelle drove with Jonah to the airstrip so he could catch his flight back home. On the ride over, Isabelle had the opportunity to ask him a few last-minute questions, hoping with each answer she would gain strength.
“This is where I leave you,” Jonah said as he pulled up in front of the hangar and parked the truck. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out. You’ll be fine.”
Before she could even say an adequate goodbye, Jonah had grabbed his bag from the back seat and was walking toward the seaplane. She swallowed an instinct to call out to him and beg the U.S. Marshal to stay a little bit longer. But she knew it wasn’t possible. For all intents and purposes, she was on her own. Isabelle was like a newborn baby trying to get acclimated to life outside the womb. Everything would be brand-new to her.
This entire situation was unfair. She hadn’t been involved in any criminal enterprises. Isabelle had always been a law-abiding citizen. She’d simply been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. No matter how many times she went over it in her head, it still seemed surreal. How could her life be turned upside down in an instant? Although her testimony had placed a criminal in prison, he still had the ability to get to her from the inside. And because he’d appealed his sentence, she might be forced to testify again. Would her life always be in limbo?
Isabelle scooted over and settled herself behind the driver’s seat as she watched Marshal Kramer walk toward the seaplane. A heavy feeling settled on her chest. “Lord, please give me the strength to go through with this,” she uttered in the stillness of the vehicle. Ever since the shooting, Isabelle had been leaning on faith to sustain her.
How would she ever get used to the quiet in this town? She was accustomed to the loud voices of her family members, the hustle and bustle of a pulsing city and the rhythms of salsa music emanating from her mother’s dance studio. Owl Creek, Alaska, seemed so tame in comparison to the world she inhabited. But wasn’t that the whole point? To get away from the dangers she would be facing by continuing to live in Miami. She’d had enough drama and excitement to last her a lifetime.
It was breaking her heart to come to terms with the finality of it all. Never seeing her loved ones again would hurt worse than any pain she’d ever endured in her twenty-seven years on this earth. But she would have to suffer the agony and push through it.
“Just put one foot in front of the other,” she told herself, breathing in deeply through her nose as she listened to the GPS instructions to Kodiak Lane and slowly maneuvered the truck along snow-packed roads. As she drove through the downtown area, she smiled at the sight of numerous Christmas decorations still on full display. Although the holiday season had been over for several weeks, the town had clearly decided to keep the celebration going. Isabelle felt a smile twitching at both sides of her lips. There was something so endearing about the sentimentality of prolonging the celebratory season. She loved Christmas. She had chosen to postpone her relocation so she could have one last holiday with her family. It had been beautiful and heartwarming and achingly sad at the same time. But she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. She would hold on to those memories for the rest of her life.
She slowed down as a gold and cream sign caught her attention. North Star Chocolate Shop. It was her new place of employment. The company, North Star Chocolate, was a well-known chocolatier and famous for creating exceptional chocolates. Although she couldn’t see inside the place, the exterior was inviting. In the storefront window sat a display of confections that tempted her sweet tooth. Brightly colored teapots accompanied them. She was really going to have to resist the temptation to sample every morsel of chocolate in the shop. As she continued driving down Main Street, a fantastic aroma began to filter into the truck. Suddenly a pink neon sign came into view that explained the smell. The Snowy Owl Diner.
The establishment looked so pretty set against the white snow and the mountains. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten at an old-fashioned diner. It had to be over a decade ago, at the one back home in Miami. Her family had frequented the place when she was little. Eating there had always been an adventure.
On impulse, Isabelle drove into the lot and made her way to the entrance. Her stomach was grumbling fiercely. The nervousness she’d felt all morning had made eating breakfast impossible. Now she was starving. Nothing less would have prompted her to stop in at the establishment way before she considered herself ready to be in any social setting. Determined not to change her mind, she pushed open the door with extra force, her head held high. She heard a loud thump followed by a cry and a crashing sound. Within seconds she realized the door had hit someone.
She stood in the doorway, horror-struck at the sight that greeted her. A man was on the floor surrounded by a sticky substance that looked
