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Courage. Danger. Faith.
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Shielding the Amish Witness
by Mary Alford
ONE
She’d put thousands of miles between herself and what happened, but she hadn’t been able to erase the horrific memory of watching her friend die. It had played through her mind during every one of those miles, like a movie stuck on a never-ending loop.
All her fault. Cheryl was dead because of her.
The fear stalking her since she’d left New York showed no sign of easing as she crossed into Montana. Because she knew what Vincent was capable of. He’d proved it by killing his wife in cold blood without a single hint of remorse.
Faith had prayed that the terrible things she’d read in her late husband’s note would turn out to be a cruel joke, but the rage on Vincent St. Clair’s face when Cheryl confronted him with the evidence had annihilated that hope, and it confirmed he was the monster her husband wrote about. And so much more.
If you’re reading this, then Vincent followed through with his threat and killed me...don’t let him get away with it, Faith.
She swiped the back of her hand across her tired eyes and focused on the road in front of her. She was barely hanging on and still couldn’t wrap her head around the truth. Vincent was Blake’s older brother. Both were decorated police detectives. How was it possible they’d been on the take for years?
Since she’d found the note Blake had taped to the bottom of his desk, Faith had existed in a state of shock. The first person she’d thought to call was Cheryl.
Faith jerked the car onto the shoulder of the road and screamed into the confines of its interior. Pounded her fists against the steering wheel. If she hadn’t been weak—hadn’t called her friend for help—Cheryl would still be alive.
The horror of watching Vincent shoot his wife at point-blank range would forever be imprinted in Faith’s mind. If Vincent had been ruthless enough to kill Cheryl simply because she’d seen the evidence Faith’s husband had accumulated, then what would he do to Faith if he caught her? She’d grabbed the evidence and run, started the car and flown from the garage. She’d been so certain Vincent would shoot her dead right there, but God had protected her. She’d gotten away, but she’d been looking over her shoulder ever since.
“I’m so sorry.” A broken sob escaped. Her heart drummed away the seconds while she glanced around at the isolation of the countryside and shivered. Sitting still was dangerous. Thirty-eight hours ago, she’d barely escaped with her life. But it wouldn’t end there. Vincent knew she had evidence that would put him away for a long time. He’d follow her to the ends of the earth to silence her.
Faith eased the car back onto the road and punched the gas. Staying alive meant quickly getting the car out of sight. Vincent was aware of the type of vehicle she drove. He’d find a way to locate her. Every second she was out in the open, her life was in jeopardy.
Her gaze landed on the cell phone in the cup holder, and a terrible truth dawned. As a detective, Vincent would know how to track her phone. He could be following her now.
Faith grabbed the phone and powered it down, praying it wasn’t too late.
She topped a hill. The snow flurries that had begun almost from the moment she crossed the state line continued to strengthen. An early spring storm was approaching.
Her fingers dug into the steering wheel as she drove through the deteriorating weather. More than anything, Faith hated bringing this nightmare to her sweet Amish grandmother. If there had been any other option, she would have chosen it instead.
A set of headlights struck the rearview mirror, momentarily blinding her. Faith whipped around in her seat. She hadn’t seen a soul in hours. The wide-open territory surrounding the Amish community of West Kootenai was sparsely populated. There were few travelers. Especially after dark. Especially in this weather.
Her stomach plummeted. Was it Vincent?
You’ll never get away from me... Vincent’s parting words had felt more like an omen.
Tension bunched between her shoulder blades while she strained to see more details on the vehicle beyond the headlights.
As far as she knew, her husband and Cheryl were the only ones who had knowledge of her Amish past in Montana.
After she moved to New York, every time she mentioned once being Amish, she’d get asked dozens of questions about why she left. In the end, it was just easier to keep that part of her life secret.
Had either Cheryl or Blake mentioned her past to Vincent?
Please, God, no.
She picked up her speed while keeping close watch in the mirror. The vehicle topped the ridge behind her, its pace normal for the conditions.
She blew out a shaky breath, nerves shot. It was probably someone who had gotten trapped in the storm like her. Her grip relaxed on the wheel. She’d been jumping at shadows since leaving New York.
The car’s headlights picked up the sign nailed to a tree by the side of the road announcing the different shops found in the West Kootenai community. Almost home. Just a little bit farther.
A wealth of childhood
