by Mary Alford
“Open up!” a voice yelled through the locked door.
The anger in the man’s tone made Willa jump. If she opened the door now, there would be no hiding the truth. They’d kill Samantha and everyone else in the house who posed a threat.
“The root cellar,” Willa whispered low enough for only Mason to hear. “The door is hidden beneath the kitchen rug.”
Mason nodded.
Willa quickly moved the thick rug and opened the trapdoor on the floor. She lifted the lantern from the table to give light. Golden Boy led the way down the narrow steps while she and Mason followed with little Samantha.
At the front door, the man rattled the handle. He was growing more impatient. There wouldn’t be much time before he tried to break in.
She started up the stairs with Golden Boy at her feet. Before she reached the top, Mason stopped her. “These men are dangerous. If they think you have anything to do with us...” He didn’t finish, but she understood the unspoken words.
“I know, but there’s no other choice.”
Mary Alford was inspired to become a writer after reading romantic suspense greats Victoria Holt and Phyllis A. Whitney. Soon, creating characters and throwing them into dangerous situations that tested their faith came naturally for Mary. In 2012 Mary entered the speed dating contest hosted by Love Inspired Suspense and later received “the call.” Writing for Love Inspired Suspense has been a dream come true for Mary.
Books by Mary Alford
Love Inspired Suspense
Forgotten Past
Rocky Mountain Pursuit
Deadly Memories
Framed for Murder
Standoff at Midnight Mountain
Grave Peril
Amish Country Kidnapping
Amish Country Murder
Covert Amish Christmas
Shielding the Amish Witness
Dangerous Amish Showdown
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
Dangerous Amish Showdown
Mary Alford
Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer.
—Psalms 19:14
To the men and women of the US Marshals Service Witness Security Program. Thank you for risking your lives to protect those in your care during their darkest moments. God bless you all.
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
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Cold Case Double Cross by Jessica R. Patch
ONE
Miles of pitch-black lurked outside the interior of the unmarked police vehicle. Rain peppered the hood and roof. The back-and-forth whooshing of the windshield wipers grated along US Marshal Mason Shetler’s nerves. Tension wound tight in his stomach. He leaned forward and watched the road through the headlights. Relaxing wasn’t an option. Somewhere out there Lucian Bartelli’s people were doing everything possible to find Mason’s young witness and silence her before Bartelli’s trial began in less than a week.
This last move marked the third in the two months Mason and his partner, Erik Timmons, had been assigned to protect Samantha King. Somehow, Bartelli kept finding them. The coincidences were beginning to pile up and Mason didn’t like where they were leading.
While Erik kept diligent watch from the passenger seat, Mason glanced briefly through the rearview mirror at the back seat where his six-year-old witness clutched the faded teddy bear tight in her arms. The last piece of her past she still had the ability to claim. Samantha stared out the window and watched the passing darkness outside the car.
His attention returned to the watery road ahead. “Are you doing okay back there, Samantha?” Mason asked the girl who had won both his and his partner’s hearts from the second they’d met her. Samantha had shown more courage than a lot of the grown-ups he’d guided through the witness protection program.
“I’m doing okay, Mr. Mason.”
Mason smiled at her answer. As much as he’d tried to get her to call him Mason, she never did. He’d finally gotten used to being Mr. Mason. In fact, he kind of liked it.
“Good. You let me know if you need to stop for any reason.”
It broke his heart whenever he thought about what this little girl had gone through. Samantha had watched both her parents being murdered by Lucian Bartelli while she hid in a closet. During her many interviews, Samantha claimed someone else in a suit had held her mother while Lucian killed her father. Unfortunately, Samantha’s description of the second man consisted of him wearing a dark suit and yelling at her mother. Mason hoped in time, after Lucian’s conviction, the child would remember something more to help them arrest the second man.
Right now, Samantha remained their only witness to bring down one of the biggest weapons smugglers operating in Montana. Mason hated that so much rested on the child’s tiny shoulders, but up until this point, Bartelli had been like Teflon.
Though Bartelli was currently in custody and awaiting trial in Helena, they had to be careful. None of the previous charges brought against the man had stuck because he was good at making witnesses disappear. Mason wanted to change that. For Samantha.
“How’s Benny holding up?” he asked, referring to the stuffed bear in Samantha’s arms.
“He’s kind of sleepy, Mr. Mason, like me. But I think he’s okay.”
“Well, if either you or Benny want to close your eyes for a bit and get some sleep, you go right ahead.”
It broke his heart that this little girl probably hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since she’d watched her parents’ murder.
“We’ve got company.” Beside him, Erik straightened his six-foot-six frame and kept his voice low enough so Samantha wouldn’t hear. His full attention focused on the side mirror. Mason discreetly glanced behind them through the rearview mirror. A set of headlights appeared in the distance.
Mason’s hands tightened on the wheel while his mind went to work. At one time, he knew the area surrounding the West Kootenai Amish community better than anywhere else in the world. The remoteness of the landscape near the mountains had been the main reason he’d chosen it to keep Samantha hidden until the trial. He planned to reach out to the sheriff once they were closer to Eagle’s Nest.
“It’s pretty isolated here,” he recalled from childhood memories. “Seems strange there’d be another traveler at this time of the night.” The words barely cleared his mouth when another pair of lights topped the hill in front of them.
The digital clock on the dash registered the time. Just past two in the morning. They had been driving for hours without any sign of another vehicle. Now, two at the same time approached from opposite directions. The hairs on the back of Mason’s neck stood at attention. If these were Bartelli’s men, they’d somehow managed to track them down and were moving in for the kill. They’d box Mason off, force the car off the road and eliminate everyone inside, because that was Bartelli’s MO. Leave no witness behind however young or innocent.
If Samantha had made even a single peep while Bartelli murdered her parents, she’d be dead already.
The ruggedness of the countryside could be unforgiving. There were f
ew options to escape the oncoming threat.
This was bad. So bad.
“We need help. I’m calling it in.” Erik reached for his cell phone while keeping his attention on the vehicle approaching straight ahead, lights on bright.
Mason’s gut warned him they had a bigger problem than the trap being set before them now. How did Bartelli’s people keep finding them so quickly? The last two breaches had come almost right on top of each other. Only one person knew they were heading to Eagle’s Nest. His commander, Owen Harper. Mason trusted Owen completely, yet somehow Bartelli had found them again. Could someone from the marshals service be working for the gunrunner? The thought was terrifying.
“No, wait.” He grabbed his partner’s arm. Mason couldn’t imagine someone from the marshals service taking a bribe or caving to blackmail and providing Bartelli’s people with confidential information. And yet...
“Think about it for a second.” He lowered his voice. “How did they find us so quickly?” He locked his gaze onto Erik’s briefly, hoping his partner would pick up what he didn’t want to voice aloud in front of the little girl. “We can’t afford to call this into our people until we’re certain.”
Erik blew out a heavy sigh. “Roger that. But for the record, I sure hope you’re wrong.”
Mason did, too. If these were Bartelli’s people, he and Erik would have to find a way to neutralize the threat they posed before the entire countryside was teeming with criminals.
He glanced to the back seat. So far, Samantha hadn’t picked up on the danger steamrolling their way. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to keep it from her. She was smart beyond her years.
Bartelli’s murder trial was scheduled to take place in exactly four days in Helena. Right now, it felt like a lifetime. Samantha had a time bomb attached to her tiny shoulders ticking off each second until the trial and it was ready to explode at any moment. If Bartelli had his way, she’d never make it to the courthouse.
Mason ran a hand over his tired eyes and tried to think beyond the danger. Childhood memories of growing up Amish here came back in a rush. The high country surrounded by the Rocky Mountains held vast wilderness areas. The Amish community of West Kootenai lay beyond those mountains.
Headlights from the car in front grew larger as it chewed up the space between them. The second vehicle appeared to take its cue and sped up, as if both drivers knew they had their target in sight.
The little girl in the back seat made a whimpering sound. “Mr. Mason, I’m scared.” The fear in Samantha’s tiny voice just about ripped his heart to shreds. How many more times must she be forced to go through this?
“Get down low, kiddo. Everything is going to be all right.” Mason did his best to sound convincing. He hoped he hadn’t just lied to this innocent child who’d been betrayed enough by the grown-ups in her life. A child needed love and security. It wasn’t her fault her father had gotten mixed up with the likes of Bartelli.
“What’s the plan here?” Erik asked while watching the advancing car.
Mason’s mind raced with possible ways to extract them from this lethal threat. “We have to get off this road. Now.” Yet the closest exit had to be more than a mile away. They didn’t have that long. Which left one option—wait until the two were close. With the vehicle in front barreling down on them in their lane, if he could jerk his car off the road fast enough, the two enemy vehicles should hit head-on. Should being the key factor. If his plan worked, it would eliminate the threat for now. If it worked.
Blinded by headlights coming in both directions, Mason did his best to correctly gauge the approaching vehicles’ speeds. When they were a few yards away, he yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, but not quite fast enough to avoid a blow from the car in front before it careened into the other vehicle. Samantha screamed above the noise of the two slamming into each other. Metal folded into metal. Brakes squealed.
Their car launched from the road, hitting the field to the left and spinning three hundred and sixty degrees. Mason fought with everything he had to keep from flipping over.
With the wheel clutched in a death grip as their car continued its wild spinning, Mason lost all sense of direction. The vehicle finally came to a shuddering and violent stop when the damaged engine stalled. Smoke billowed out from under the hood in waves.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, and tried to restart the engine. The third failed attempt confirmed the truth. They wouldn’t be driving out of here. He and Erik would have to take down a multitude of Bartelli’s men if they stood a chance at saving Samantha’s life.
Car doors slammed shut behind them.
“Get on the floor, Samantha,” Erik yelled seconds before a hail of bullets blasted every inch of the vehicle. Glass shattered. The little girl screamed again and scrambled onto the floor.
Mason grabbed his weapon as the shooting lapsed. He and Erik slipped from their vehicle and ducked behind their open doors to return fire.
Several men screamed as they took bullets, but he and Erik were grossly outmanned, and they wouldn’t have the upper hand for long. Another round of shots had Mason ducking low behind the door. They had to get Samantha out of the car before she took a stray bullet.
He glanced over his shoulder. The wilderness separating the highway from mountains was at their six o’ clock and filled with its own set of dangers.
“Get Samantha and head to the woods behind us. I’ll cover you,” Mason yelled so his partner could hear him.
Erik grabbed up the little girl. Tucking her close to his body for protection, he ran toward the woods while Mason did his best to keep them safe.
His partner almost reached the safety of the trees when one of the shooters spotted him and zeroed in. Erik screamed, stumbled a couple of steps and went down quickly while still holding Samantha.
“Erik!” All sorts of dreadful outcomes played through Mason’s head. His partner was hit, their witness was in jeopardy and Erik’s family would be depending on Mason to keep him alive.
Desperate to reach his wounded friend, Mason moved as fast as he could while shooting over this shoulder. All around him, bullets fell like the rain coming down.
Erik struggled to get his feet underneath him.
“No—stay down!” Mason tried to warn Erik, but the noise of war drowned out his voice. He had to keep fighting to reach them, to get his partner and Samantha into the protection of the trees before the shooters took them all out.
Mason’s heart drilled a frantic beat against his ears. Fear poured adrenaline through his body as he kept the disabled car between himself and the men. He bent over and he ran toward his partner. The distance seemed insurmountable with the battle raging around him. Bartelli’s people weren’t letting up despite his resistance. Every second they were out in the open raised the likelihood of being shot. He and Erik wouldn’t have long to reach the protection of the trees.
And then what?
Samantha slowly crawled out from underneath Erik. She spotted Mason and held her arms toward him.
“Stay where you are, sweetheart.” His voice must have carried above the noise because she stopped moving.
He finally reached Erik and helped him to his feet. Before he could get to Samantha, a bullet burrowed through the shoulder of his shooting arm and exited in a wealth of red-hot pain. The gun flew from Mason’s hand. He lost his hold on Erik, who crumpled to the ground.
Mason scrambled for his firearm while keeping a close eye on the shooters. One man blew out two of the tires as he passed by, probably to make sure the car was completely incapacitated, taking away the marshals’ only means of transportation.
He ignored the pain rolling down his arm and grabbed Erik, lifting him to his feet again. Erik’s blood soaked the ground beneath where he’d gone down. Samantha was covered in it.
Mason grabbed the child’s trembling hand. “Stay in front
of me.” He’d use his body to shield her. “Can you walk?” he asked his partner.
Erik’s full weight leaned heavily against him. “I think so.” Though Erik was far from steady on his feet, he didn’t have a choice. The alternative meant certain death.
Mason jerked his gaze behind them. Bartelli’s men had now passed the car and were closing the space between them. Mason fired several rounds to force them back behind the car. The brief reprieve came at a price. He’d emptied his clip. He quickly reloaded.
Tightening his hold on Erik, Mason clutched Samantha’s tiny hand and started walking as fast as his partner’s injuries would allow.
He could feel Samantha shivering. Though it was summertime, the temperature this close to the Canadian border dipped close to freezing at night.
Moving proved excruciatingly slow. Less than a dozen feet separated them from the wilderness, but dragging an injured man while protecting little Samantha made it feel like forever before they reached the shelter of the trees.
At one time, he’d hunted in these woods with his brothers—knew every square inch of them like the back of his hand—but that was before he’d foolishly burned the life he’d once loved to ashes.
Childhood memories refused to be held captive in time. They rose from the darkness to taunt him when the past was the last thing he needed to be focused on. At times, his Amish life felt like something he’d read about in a book—someone else’s childhood. But there were more moments, especially lately, when he wished he could turn back the hands of the clock.
He fought back exhaustion, and fear, and doubts that screamed he wasn’t good enough or strong enough to save these blameless people.
The dense woods made it hard to see much past a few feet. They were near the mountains. If they could make it to the abandoned mines, the shafts that ran on for miles would provide a safe place to hide.
Erik’s injury bled profusely. He stumbled as he fought to keep his feet beneath him. The wound needed immediate attention yet stopping right now with Bartelli’s men coming after them wasn’t an option.