Amish Christmas Hideaway

“I called you,” she said through a shuddering sob. “Because this won’t end with the local police, Nathan. I witnessed a double homicide that looked like a hit job. Those two officers are probably dead. The FBI will probably be called in and I’ll need to testify.”

FBI? Now he was tripping over his own feet. “Alisha, I know the road you’re on. Find an Amish farm and wake someone up. Stay with them until I get there. Do you hear me?”

She didn’t speak.

He held the cell between his ear and shoulder while he grabbed at more clothes and found his weapon and wallet.

“Alisha?”

“I know a shortcut,” she said, sounding stronger. “I’ll take that route once I hit the turn. I’ll try to find a house, I promise. My cell battery is low. I have to go.”

“Alisha, tell me what to look for.”

“Black Denali SUV. Two men in the vehicle. I have to go.”

“Alisha, don’t—”

She ended the call.

Nathan stood there in the dark, the images playing in his mind a terrible torment. If anything happened to her...

He’d been through this kind of terror before. He would not go there again.

With that vow in mind, he finished putting on his clothes and hurried out of the cabin toward his big Chevy truck. His heart pumping adrenaline, he headed toward Green Mountain. Once underway, he called his friend Carson Benton at the sheriff’s department. While per Pennsylvania law, the deputy couldn’t apprehend the suspects, he could serve in tracking them down and alerting the state police and the FBI if needed. He could also help in transporting them if they were apprehended.

Nathan and Carson went way back, had been friends for years. Carson sometimes helped Nathan in an unofficial capacity with missing person cases.

“This had better be good,” Carson said, echoing the same words Nathan had uttered about ten minutes ago.

“I need you to check on a woman driving alone and headed toward the turnoff just past Green Mountain, toward Campton Creek. She thinks someone is following her. Someone dangerous. She witnessed a shooting near Philadelphia and she had a police cruiser following her but the perpetrators ran the patrol car off the road.”

“Hello to you, too,” his longtime friend said with a grunt. “Got it. Who’s the woman?”

“Alisha Braxton,” Nathan said, one hand on the wheel as he broke the speed limit. Then he described her vehicle. “I’m on my way.”

“I know how you drive, Nathan. You’ll beat me there,” Carson replied in a tart tone. “I’m on it.” Then he asked, “Hey, isn’t she the one who—”

“Yeah,” Nathan said. Then he ended the call.

Alisha Braxton.

The one who got away.

This had to be bad if she’d called him.

Because Nathan knew he was the one man on earth she’d never want to call for help.

Why had she called him?

Logic told Alisha her first call should have been to 911. But she’d panicked after she’d seen the patrol car behind her bursting into flames and when she’d grabbed for her phone, Nathan had come to mind. He lived close by when he wasn’t traveling. Thankful that she’d caught Nathan at home, Alisha knew he could get to her fast. And he’d act first and ask questions later.

He was the kind of man who took matters into his own hands.

He was also the kind of man who broke all the rules, one of the reasons she’d given up on him long ago.

Now it was the only reason she wanted him by her side.

The one man she didn’t want to call was also the one man who could help her escape from a couple of killers.

The irony of her situation made her laugh a tiny hysterical laugh while she slipped her car back onto the main road and kept watch behind her. She’d seen the SUV and now it had disappeared. But she wasn’t imagining this. If she turned down Applewood Lane and hooked a left back to the old covered-bridge road, she could throw them off. Then she could take the back roads to Creek Road and then Campton Creek proper. She’d be safe soon. She knew these roads, had traveled them as a child.

Had met Nathan in a park out by the creek when they were both in their late teens.

Nathan, who’d been Amish then.

Nathan, who now had few scruples when it came to bringing justice to this world.

He no longer lived among the Amish but for close to fifteen years, he had made it his life’s work to always help and protect the Amish. Because he had to help others seek their loved ones so they wouldn’t have to live with the pain he carried in his heart.

His younger sister had gone missing after Nathan and his father had fought about his relationship with Alisha. Hannah had been found dead a few weeks later.

Nathan blamed himself. Alisha lived with that same guilt.

She shouldn’t have called him tonight. She had her life in order, had her routines down, worked hard, rarely dated. She’d learned to be her own hero. Because she never wanted to go through that kind of pain again, either.

Nathan could complicate all of that.

He could also save her life.

Alisha checked her mirror again and tried to stay calm. She knew how to take care of herself. She’d given the police her statement, described in detail the vehicle and the man she’d seen, left the officers and detectives her contact information and finally had been given permission to leave.

“Will you be all right, Miss Braxton?” one of the detectives at the gruesome scene had asked her.

“I will be when I get to my grandmother’s place,” she’d replied, glancing around the empty parking lot. The marketplace had been shut down until the crime techs could scour the scene. By then the authorities had questioned all of the witnesses, but most of them had just heard gunshots and seen the SUV speeding out of the parking lot.

Alisha had been the only eyewitness to the murders.

“We can give you an escort,” one of the detectives had suggested.

“That might make me feel better,” she’d admitted. “It’s about two hours from here.”

They arranged for a patrol car with two officers to follow her, staying close. She’d watched their car through her rearview mirror, feeling safe, until she’d heard screeching tires and gunshots.

And watched the patrol car careening off the road and into a rocky incline. It had burst into flames.

Now she prayed for those two officers, but she knew in her heart they were probably dead. If the crash hadn’t killed them, the shooter would make sure they were dead.

She would be next.