Hidden in Plain View. Diane Burke
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COLLIDING WORLDS
After a tragedy rips through her Amish community, Sarah Lapp doesn’t remember anything. She can’t recall her Plain upbringing, her deceased husband or the shooting that landed her under the protection of handsome undercover cop Samuel King. She is, however, aware of the confusing feelings he creates in her from the moment he walks into her life. Sam is determined to protect Sarah and her unborn baby in case the shooters return. Because if they do, it’ll be more than just Sarah’s memory at stake.
“It is kind of you to show concern, Detective King.”
“Please, call me Samuel.”
“Samuel.” Her soft voice drew his attention. “Who are you, Samuel? You dress like an Amish man. Our men are not detectives.” Her eyes studied him.
“I assure you, Sarah, I am a detective. I was raised Amish. I left my home in Ohio and joined the police force about fifteen years ago.”
“You are very far from home, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I wanted to get as far away as I could.” Sam shrugged. “Memories aren’t always good.”
Her eyes shimmered, and he fought not to lose himself in their beauty.
“I wish I had some memories,” she whispered.
“Memories aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, Sarah. I have memories, but no one to love me. You don’t have memories, but you have people who love you very much.”
Her beauty spoke to him, stirring feelings better left dormant. Stepping back, he reminded himself of his own rules.
DIANE BURKE
is the mother of three grown sons and the grandmother of five grandsons and three step-grandchildren. She has three daughters-in-law who have blessed her by their addition to her family. She lives in Florida, nestled somewhere between the Daytona Beach speedway and the St. Augustine fort, with Cocoa, her golden Lab, and Thea, her border collie. Thea and Cocoa don’t know they are dogs, because no one has ever told them. Shhh.
When she was growing up, her siblings always believed she could “exaggerate” her way through any story and often waited with bated breath to see how events turned out, even though they had been present at most of them. Now she brings those stories to life on the written page.
Her writing has earned her numerous awards, including a Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence.
She would love to hear from her readers. You can contact her at [email protected].
Hidden in Plain View
Diane Burke
Don’t be afraid, for I am with you.
Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you.
I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.
—Isaiah 41:10
This book is dedicated to the family and friends
who offered nothing but love and open arms to both my son and me during our long-overdue reunion.
I also wish to thank Rachel Burkot, my new editor, for jumping in midstream and doing a phenomenal job of helping me make this book the best it could be.
Contents
PROLOGUE
Mount Hope, Lancaster County, PA
Sarah Lapp wasn’t thinking about guns or violence or murder on this unseasonably warm fall day. She was thinking about getting her basket of apples and cheese to the schoolhouse.
Pedaling her bicycle down the dirt road, she spotted the silhouettes of her in-laws, Rebecca and Jacob, standing close together in the distant field.
Sarah knew when she’d married their son, Peter, that she had been fortunate to have married her best friend.
But sometimes...
She glanced at them again.
Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder what true love felt like.
Chiding herself for her foolish notions, she turned her attention back to the road. A sense of unease taunted her as she approached the school. The children should be out in the yard on their first break of the day, but the ball field was empty.
She hit the kickstand on her bike and looked around the yard.
Peter’s horse and wagon were tethered to the rail, a water bucket beside them. Children’s bicycles haphazardly dotted the lawn. The bats for the morning ball game rested against the bottom of the steps.
Everything appeared normal.
But it didn’t feel normal.
Sarah climbed the steps and moved cautiously across the small landing, noting the open windows and the curtains fluttering in the breeze.
Silence.
Her pulse pounded. When was a room full of children ever silent?
She’d barely turned the knob