Secret Mountain Hideout

by Terri Reed

  Staying hidden has kept her alive...

  But now she’s been found.

  A remote Colorado mountain town and a fake identity have been Ashley Willis’s safe haven since fleeing after she witnessed a murder—but now the killer has found her trail. Desperate and terrified, she’s prepared to run again…but Deputy Sheriff Chase Fredrick won’t let her. With the lawman by her side, can she face danger head-on…and live long enough to bring a murderer to justice?

  “If the killer finds out that I can identify him...” A visible shudder rippled through her. “He will kill me.”

  Her palpable fear sent all his protective instincts into high gear. Ashley was in danger. Her life threatened by what she’d seen. Reining in the urge to comfort and assure her she was safe, Chase let his training prompt him to ask, “Why does Detective Peters think you’re involved?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know.”

  Was he being played? He sent up a quick prayer asking for God’s wisdom and guidance here. Keeping his voice from betraying the anxiety her words caused, he said, “We have to get you to the sheriff’s station so you can give your statement. You need to be brave now.”

  For a long moment, she simply stared at him. He could see her inner debate playing out on her face. Trust him or not.

  He couldn’t help her with the decision.

  Finally, she seemed to deflate. “I’m so tired of being scared. I want to be brave.”

  He covered her icy hand. “I’ll help you.”

  Terri Reed’s romance and romantic suspense novels have appeared on the Publishers Weekly top twenty-five and Nielsen BookScan top one hundred lists, and have been featured in USA TODAY, Christian Fiction magazine and RT Book Reviews. Her books have been finalists for the Romance Writers of America RITA® Award and the National Readers’ Choice Award, and finalists three times for the American Christian Fiction Writers Carol Award. Contact Terri at terrireed.com or PO Box 19555, Portland, OR 97224.

  Books by Terri Reed

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Buried Mountain Secrets

  Secret Mountain Hideout

  True Blue K-9 Unit

  Seeking the Truth

  Military K-9 Unit

  Tracking Danger

  Mission to Protect

  Northern Border Patrol

  Danger at the Border

  Joint Investigation

  Murder Under the Mistletoe

  Ransom

  Identity Unknown

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Secret Mountain Hideout

  Terri Reed

  Hear my voice, O God, in my prayer: preserve my life from fear of the enemy. Hide me from the secret counsel of the wicked; from the insurrection of the workers of iniquity.

  —Psalm 64:1–2

  To the ones I love. May God shine His face upon you always and give you peace.

  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 LONE SURVIVOR BY JILL ELIZABETH NELSON

  ONE

  It couldn’t be.

  Ice filled Ashley Willis’s veins despite the spring sunshine streaming through the living room windows of the Bristle Township home in Colorado where she rented a bedroom.

  Disbelief cemented her feet to the floor, her gaze riveted to the horrific images on the television screen.

  Flames shot of out of the two-story building she’d hoped never to see again. Its once bright red awnings were now singed black and the magnificent stained-glass windows depicting the image of an angry bull were no more.

  She knew that place intimately.

  The same place that haunted her nightmares.

  The newscaster’s words assaulted her. She grabbed on to the back of the faded floral couch for support.

  In a fiery inferno, the posh Burbank restaurant, The Matador, was consumed by a raging fire in the wee hours of the morning. Firefighters are working diligently to douse the flames. So far there have been no fatalities, however, there has been one critical injury.

  Ashley’s heart thumped painfully in her chest, reminding her to breathe. Concern for her friend, Gregor, the man who had safely spirited her away from the Los Angeles area one frightening night a year and a half ago when she’d witnessed her boss, Maksim Sokolov, kill a man, thrummed through her. She had to know what happened. She had to know if Gregor was the one injured.

  She had to know if this had anything to do with her.

  “Mrs. Marsh,” Ashley called out. “Would you mind if I use your cell phone?”

  Her landlady, a widow in her mideighties, appeared in the archway between the living room and kitchen. Her hot-pink tracksuit hung on her stooped shoulders but it was her bright smile that always tugged at Ashley’s heart. The woman was a spitfire with her blue-gray hair and her kind green eyes behind thick spectacles.

  “Of course, dear. It’s in my purse.” She pointed to the black satchel on the dining room table. “Though you know, as I keep saying, you should get your own cell phone. It’s not safe for a young lady to be walking around without any means of calling for help.”

  They had been over this before. Ashley didn’t want anything attached to her name.

  Or rather, her assumed identity—Jane Thompson.

  Putting the name she was using in some system where it could be flagged and she could be discovered in Bristle Township was a disaster she wanted to avoid at all costs.

  So far, using the identification Gregor had given her had worked. She’d been too stunned at the time to question where he’d obtained the driver’s license, social security card and credit card, all with the name Jane Thompson. She suspected she wouldn’t have liked the answer had she asked. No one so far had questioned that she wasn’t Jane Thompson. She didn’t know what she’d do if the thin line keeping her safe disappeared and her true identity became known.

  A shudder of dread, followed closely by a jab of guilt at deceiving the good people of Bristle Township, made her gut tighten. She prayed God would forgive her for doing what she had to in order to survive.

  “I just need to make a quick phone call,” Ashley assured her landlady as the urgent drive to know who was injured consumed her.

  If she could have bought a burner phone in Bristle Township she would have, but that wasn’t an option. First, none of the local stores carried one—she’d discreetly searched—and second, everyone would know about such a purchase the moment she made it.

  Thankfully, Mrs. Marsh’s data plan included free long distance, as well as Wi-Fi. Mrs. Marsh’s children, who both lived in Texas, had sent her the phone so that they could communicate with her.

  With phone in hand, Ashley quickly searched for the hospitals in and around the Burbank area. She called each listed and on the fourth try found the hospital where the critically injured victim of The Matador fire had been taken.

  Her heart sank to have her fear confirmed that Gregor Kominski, the restaurant’s manager, had been the one hurt. Anxiety made her limbs shake beneath the khaki pants and long sleeve T-shirt sporting the Java Bean logo on the front breast pocket and the back. She ha
d been on her way out the door for work when she’d seen the news.

  Had the fire been set intentionally? Had Gregor suffered because of her?

  “Are you a relative of Mr. Kominski’s?” the woman from the hospital on the other end of the line questioned.

  Biting her lip, Ashley debated her answer. She didn’t want to lie, but she doubted they would give her much information if she admitted she wasn’t related to the man. Finally, she hedged, allowing the woman to make her own assumption. “I’m calling from out of town. What can you tell me? Is he going to be okay?”

  “He remains in critical condition,” the woman said. “Would you like to leave a name and a number for updates?”

  Ashley quickly hung up. No, she didn’t want to leave a name and number. She didn’t want there to be any trace of her reaching out for information. The call had been a risk. One she hoped she wouldn’t have to pay for with her life.

  * * *

  Gossip in Bristle Township traveled faster than the wind off the mountain. Ashley couldn’t help but overhear several customers of the Java Bean coffee shop talking about a detective from California asking questions about a mysterious woman.

  Heart beating in her throat, Ashley spilled milk all over the espresso machine. With shaky hands, she quickly wiped up the mess and finished making the specialty drink.

  Just this morning she’d learned of the fire that had destroyed The Matador restaurant and sent her friend to the hospital. Now a police officer from the same state was in town. Coincidence? Or was she on the verge of being discovered?

  Ethan Johnson, a local farmer, stared at her from beneath the brim of a well-worn baseball cap as she handed him the steaming cup of mocha cappuccino. “Do you have a sister?”

  Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she mutely shook her head.

  “Hmm. I guess we all have a doppelganger,” he commented. His blue veined hands cupped the to-go container as if the warmth of the liquid inside was soothing to the arthritis evident in the swollen joints of his fingers.

  Forcing herself to speak, she asked, “Why do you say that?”

  “You vaguely resemble the woman in the photo the lawman was asking me about,” he replied with a shrug. He lifted the cup and blew through the hole on the lid as he walked away.

  Though she barely resembled her old self, terror of being exposed ripped through Ashley. She’d been careful to keep her appearance understated so she could blend in better. Though the dye job she’d done right before landing in Bristle Township hadn’t turned out quite the way she’d expected. Much too flashy.

  The carton of hair dye had claimed she’d end up with honey blond hair. She touched the short platinum blond strands curling around her face. Sudden sadness and anger at the circumstances that had forced her to change not only her hair color and style but also her whole life swamped her, weighing her down.

  One simple distracted moment and her world had spun out of control.

  Knowing things could be so much worse—she could be dead—she quickly removed her apron and hurried over to the owner of the Java Bean, Stephen Humphrey. He was a big teddy bear of a man with two teenage kids who helped out on the weekends.

  “Hey, boss. I need to take a break, if that’s okay. I forgot I promised Mrs. Marsh I would help her with something.” Like protecting her from me.

  Ashley’s insides twisted with guilt. She hated having to keep her true identity a secret from these people who had shown her such kindness.

  She knew Stephen had a soft spot for Mrs. Marsh. The whole town did. Mrs. Marsh and her late husband had been beloved grade school teachers. Everyone who had grown up in town had been in her or her late husband’s classes. Ashley had heard so many wonderful stories of how Mr. and Mrs. Marsh had made a difference in people’s lives.

  Just as Mrs. Marsh was making a huge difference in Ashley’s life. More guilt and regret heaped on her head, making her scalp tingle. She wanted to scrub the past year and a half away, go back in time and undo what was done. But she couldn’t.

  The only thing she could do was run to stay alive.

  “Sure,” Stephen replied. “Just be back for the afternoon rush.”

  She smiled tightly but refrained from promising. It was time for her to leave Bristle Township as soon as possible. The thought pinched, creating a pang of sorrow. She liked the town and her job. She’d started to make friends, letting people into her heart. Foolish on her part.

  Over the last year she’d saved up so she could afford to move on. She’d only stopped in the small mountainside community and taken the job at the coffee shop because she’d run out of the money Gregor had given her. He’d told her never to contact him again and she hadn’t wanted to put her mother in danger by contacting her.

  Not that Irene Willis would have been in any position to help her only child, nor would she have made much effort if she could. Irene barely made a living waiting tables at a truck stop outside Barstow, California, and Ashley was positive her mom’s life was less complicated without her daughter to set off her temper. One of the many reasons Ashley had left as quickly as she could when she turned eighteen.

  Ashley’s only option had been staying in one place long enough to earn more money to keep running for her life. She hadn’t meant to stay so long. But life had become comfortable and she’d believed herself secure in this quaint mountain hamlet. Maybe if she’d stayed in Barstow or chosen a different path, she wouldn’t be here now.

  An illusion of safety had kept her here. Another mistake she couldn’t afford. And now she was on the brink of being found out. She had no doubt that the detective was hunting for her. She couldn’t let him succeed in tracking her down.

  She hurried out the back entrance of the Java Bean, taking a deep breath of the pine-scented air. She crossed the town park, trying to keep a low profile. The park was filled with moms and their children too young for school. A few elderly couples strolled along the street. A horn honked, startling Ashley. She glanced around, fear slithering through her, making her muscles tense. Two cars vied for the same parking space in front of the bookstore on the main street. Breathing a little easier she hurried on, cutting through the library parking lot, and walked fast down the residential street leading to Mrs. Marsh’s place.

  The trees along the sidewalk were beginning to blossom. Soft pink petals floated to the ground on a slight breeze. Ashley barely noticed the beauty today, her mind tormented with anxiety.

  Managing to reach the boarding house without being seen, she gathered her meager belongings, left an apologetic note and some cash for Mrs. Marsh. Then putting up the hood of her navy down jacket to cover her bright hair, she retraced the same path she’d taken earlier and made her way to the Bristle Hotel where the interstate bus picked up and dropped off passengers.

  A teenager on a bike rode by, waving at her. She had no choice but to wave back to Brady Gallo. Maybe he wouldn’t mention to his older sister that he’d seen Jane. It pained Ashley to leave Maya, Leslie and Kaitlyn—the three women who’d befriended her—without a goodbye, but it couldn’t be helped.

  At the Bristle Hotel, a beautiful old building that dated back to the township’s conception, Ashley checked with the front desk clerk and learned a bus was due to arrive within minutes and was headed to Montana. She bought a ticket and then took a position behind a pillar on the wide porch to wait for the bus. There were a couple of other people waiting and she purposely ignored them. The last thing she needed was to engage in idle conversation.

  She hoped and prayed she made it out of town before she was found or stopped.

  The bus rolled in and she hurried to stow her bag in the undercarriage compartment, then moved to wait at the door behind a guy who needed a shower. The stench coming from his unwashed hair made her eyes water. He’d probably been hiking on the popular trails that began right on the edge of Bristle and threaded up into the mou
ntains.

  She hung back as long as she dared, allowing space between them. There were already several people onboard the bus. Seemed Montana was the destination of choice today.

  The guy in front of her showed his ticket to the driver and boarded.

  “Jane! Wait.”

  Hesitating, Ashley warily turned to find Deputy Chase Fredrick striding toward her, undeniably handsome in his brown uniform. His sandy blond hair swept over his forehead in an appealing way and his intense blue eyes bored into her. He’d always been kind and charming when he’d come into the Java Bean for coffee.

  In different circumstances, she might have been tempted to flirt with him, but there was no place in her life for a man. It was bad enough she’d made friends who were going to be hurt and disappointed by her departure. She regretted causing anyone pain and wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  What did the deputy want? Dread clawed through her. Was her ruse up? Would she find herself in jail? Or worse—dead?

  Desperate to get on the bus, Ashley thrust her ticket at the driver, but he didn’t reach for it as he stared at her a moment and then turned his gaze to the deputy who’d come to a halt at her side and touched her elbow.

  Panic revved Ashley’s pulse. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” His blue gaze searched her face. “Why are you leaving town?”

  Stiffening her spine, she replied, “It’s none of your business.”

  “It is my business if you’re a criminal,” he stated in a low voice.

  She drew back. Fear fluttered in her chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Turning to the bus driver, Chase said, “She won’t be taking this bus. Can you unload her bags?”

  Giving Ashley a cautious glance, the driver’s head bobbed. “Straight away, Officer.”

  “No! I have to go,” she protested. “I need to get on this bus.”

  The driver hurried to the cargo hold and dragged her duffel out, setting it on the ground before resuming his position at the bus door.