Yuletide Fugitive Threat. Sandra Robbins
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PERILOUS REUNION
The man who killed Mia Fletcher’s husband is stalking her—he’s dangerously intent on searching for something in her possession. But Mia doesn’t know what he wants or how to stop him, so she turns to Lucas Knight, fugitive hunter extraordinaire—and her former college boyfriend. When Lucas is pulled from sleep by a pounding on his door, Mia is the last person he expects to see. But after he hears about the killer who jumped bail, he has to help her…even if it means risking falling for her all over again. Can the bounty hunter capture the fugitive—and Mia’s heart—in time for Christmas?
Bounty Hunters: Finding justice one fugitive at a time
“Lucas, please, I need to talk to you.”
His hand tightened on the door. “We have nothing to talk about, Mia.”
She glanced over her shoulder as if checking to see who might be behind her and turned back to face him. Tears stood in her eyes. “I’m in trouble, Lucas, and I have no one to turn to. Just give me five minutes of your time. That’s all I’m asking.”
Against his better judgment, he stepped aside and nodded. “All right. Five minutes.”
He closed the door behind them and turned the thermostat up before ushering her into the living room. “Have a seat. I can see you’re upset about something. So tell me about it.”
Mia rubbed her hand across her eyes and sighed. “I hardly know where to start.” After a moment she took a deep breath. “Did you know that Kyle was murdered?”
Lucas exhaled a deep breath. “Yes. It’s been covered enough by the local media. I’m sorry, Mia. You have my condolences.”
She looked up at him, and he recoiled from the anger that lined her face. “I don’t need your pity, Lucas. Not now. I need help to find his killer. That’s what I want you to do.”
SANDRA ROBBINS is an award-winning, multipublished author of Christian fiction who lives with her husband in Tennessee. Without the support of her wonderful husband, four children and five grandchildren, it would be impossible for her to write. It is her prayer that God will use her words to plant seeds of hope in the lives of her readers so they may come to know the peace she draws from her life.
Yuletide
Fugitive
Threat
Sandra Robbins
Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.
—Proverbs 31:30
To the memory of the 18,000 women in the United States who have been killed by men in domestic violence disputes since 2003.
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
Dear Reader
Mia Lockhart closed her eyes as she stood on the deck of her waterfront house and listened for sounds in the dark night. The only noise that reached her ears was the soft lap of the lake as its gentle waves rippled over the rocky shoreline.
She hugged her arms around her body and shivered in the December cold. Don’t let the quiet night lull you into a false sense of security, she said to herself. You’re not safe. Not yet. But would she ever be? That was the question that was causing one sleepless night after another.
Try as she might, she couldn’t make herself grieve over the murder of her husband a month ago. Grieving was for those with good memories of a deceased spouse, not for those who were lucky to have survived being married to a monster.
Her left hand clenched into a fist, and she flexed the arm with the broken bone that had taken so long to mend. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled. A slight smile flitted across her mouth at how much easier it was to breathe now that her ribs had healed.
No wonder she had felt no shock or sorrow when the police arrived at her door with the news of Kyle’s murder. Relief, that’s what had washed over her. She was finally free of the man who had controlled her life for the past seven years. Free from his possessiveness, his anger and his fists.
But she’d only been deluding herself, thinking that she’d never have to fear a man again. Freedom didn’t mean she was safe, not when the accused murderer had been able to make bail and had promptly disappeared to become a fugitive from justice. Now Kyle’s killer was somewhere out there, and he knew where she lived.
A gust of wind blew across the deck, and she slipped her hands into the pockets of her jacket, smiling as her fingers brushed the cell phone she’d tucked inside. Kyle had forbidden her to have a cell phone and even a landline to the house. It only made sense that her first act of freedom was to enter the digital age with a phone and a computer.
Suddenly the phone vibrated, and she tightened her grip on it. Her lips trembled as she pulled it from her pocket. An unknown number glowed on the caller ID. She knew before she answered what the voice on the line would say, but it was as if some unknown force commanded her to answer.
“H-hello,” she stammered.
“Hello, Mia. It’s me again.”
She closed her eyes and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. “Tony Chapman.” The man who killed her husband. There was no reason to deny it. She’d known the first time he phoned right after he jumped bail.
“Why do you keep calling me? I just want to be left alone.”
“I’m