Excerpt of Nowhere to Run

Proverbs 2: 7-8
"The Lord holds victory in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones."

Chapter One

It took a lot to frighten Marie Parnell – unless the perceived danger affected her five-year-old daughter, Patty. That changed everything.

Trembling, she peered out the front window of her Baton Rough apartment to see who was pounding on the door and shouting her name. It hadn't been her imagination. Roy Jenkins was back. Her nightmares had come to life.

Marie froze, her brown eyes wide. She could hardly breathe. The tone of Roy's voice had risen until he'd started to sound more afraid than irate. That was puzzling. It wasn't like him to show weakness. Not at all.

She chanced another quick peek out the window, hoping and praying he was alone. The last thing she wanted was to expose Patty to the low-life types who had always been Roy's cohorts.

Keeping her voice as calm as she could, she answered him through the closed door. "Go away."

His fist slammed against the wood so hard it made her jump. "Not this time, Marie. If you don't let me in I'll break this door down. Don't make me do it."

Don't make me do it. The familiar phrase sent chills zinging up her spine and turned her stomach. That was what Roy always used to say before he hit her. As if it was her fault and she deserved being punished. It had taken her a long time to realize that the problem was Roy's temper, not her behavior, and she thanked God daily that she had not been fool enough to marry him, even though she had not been a Christian during the time they were together.

"Hush. You'll wake the neighbors," she warned. In her mind she added, and you'll wake Patty. That mustn't happen. The little girl had finally gotten to the place where she'd stopped asking for him and Marie didn't want to have to start that healing process all over again.

Outside, Roy pled more softly, "Marie, darlin'. You have to listen to me. If you won't let me in, at least talk to me face to face."

She knew better than to open the door. Experience had taught her well. Yet, there was something in Roy's tone that tugged at her heart, made her remember the few good times they'd had before he'd turned to crime and begun to physically abuse her when she'd objected.

Twisting the deadbolt, she eased the door open a crack. Roy hit it with his shoulder and shoved her out of the way as he burst in, followed by a gust of humid air.

Marie staggered back, her hands raised in self-defense.

Roy gave a cynical snort. "Simmer down. I got no beef with you. I got worse problems. And so do you. That's why I'm here."

"I don't believe you." She sent a concerned glance toward the hallway leading to the bedroom, then realized immediately that she'd given away Patty's location.

"I came to warn you," Roy insisted. He began trying to edge past her toward the room where his daughter slept.

"Leave her alone," Marie said, standing firmly in his way. "You haven't bothered to even write to her or send any support for over two years."

"She's my kid. I got a right to see her."

"You have no rights. We were never legally married and I have a restraining order against you."

"Yeah, yeah. That piece of paper is only good if I pay attention to it. Tonight, I have other things on my mind." He paused, shaking his head. "If you weren't so stubborn you'd listen to me."

"I stopped listening to you years ago," Marie said.

"I know." Roy began to pace. "Look, Marie, I'm in trouble. I'm going to have to leave town. And after I'm gone, there are some old buddies of mine who're going to be royally teed-off."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Plenty. They're bound to come looking for me. You and the kid are my only ties to this area. If you were them, what would you do?"

She folded her arms and faced him as he continued to walk back and forth. "You don't want to know what I'd like to do," she said candidly. "And I refuse to lie for you, so don't tell me where you're going."

"That's not the problem," he said. "You're dumber than dirt, aren't you? Look. This is serious. You have to leave town, too."

"Not on your life, Roy. Patty and I are finally happy. I have a good job, she's starting school in the fall, and we've even joined a church. We're not going anywhere, especially not with you."

He laughed coarsely. "Not with me, you idiot. That's the last place I'd want my kid to be, considering the jam I'm in. But you can't stay here. It's not safe."

"Sure, Roy. Tell me another fairytale." She tucked strands of her cinnamon-brown hair behind her ears with trembling fingers. "Patty and I are not going anywhere. Understand?"

"Yeah, I get it. Just don't say I didn't warn you." He began to back away.

Marie followed him to the door, locked it as soon as he'd stepped outside and leaned her forehead against it. She hadn't wanted Roy to see how deeply his anxiety had affected her, but she was terribly concerned. Could he have been telling the truth for once? He had certainly seemed sincere.

And he hadn't forced her to let him see Patty, either. That, too, was totally out of character for Roy.

She shut off the inside lights so she couldn't be seen as she peered out the window to watch him leave.

Suddenly, two shadowy figures appeared on either side of Roy. They grabbed him. Held his arms as he squirmed.

Marie pressed her fingertips to her lips to stifle a gasp. The larger men easily dragged him to a waiting car, shoved him inside, and sped away.

Immediately reaching for the phone, Marie dialed 911. The police might not be her ex-boyfriend's first choice for a rescue but the way she saw it, Roy was out of options. It never occurred to her that her story about his abduction wouldn't be believed.

*****

Seth Whitfield, the thirty-two-year-old garage mechanic who lived and worked in Serenity, Arkansas, didn't exist. At least not in the normal sense.

Stepping out of his weathered barn into the spring sunshine, Seth removed his ball cap and raked his fingers through his thick, prematurely-graying hair. Alice had always insisted he keep his hair dyed dark so he had, until she'd been taken from him by the same men who had driven him into hiding.

After Alice's death nothing had mattered, least of all his appearance, and with the addition of a bit of necessary plastic surgery and his farmer's tan, he hardly recognized the face he shaved every morning.

He blew out a sigh. Looking across the unspoiled valley always made him a bit wistful. This morning was no exception. He could smell the fresh green grass and appreciate the balmy wind from the west that often brought showers to nourish the groves of oak, hickory and cedar dotting the rocky, gently-sloping hills.

Alice would have loved it here, he thought absently, then realized the opposite was true. His late wife had been a city girl, a social climber. She'd never have agreed to visit the Ozarks, let alone move there to live. That was one of the reasons he had chosen this spot for his relocation. He had had absolutely no ties here.

"And I couldn't have picked a place that I liked better," he told himself.

The black-and-white border collie at his side nudged the leg of his jeans, panting and begging for attention in response to his mellow voice.

He bent to stroke the dog's head. "That's right, Babe, you and I love this place, don't we?"

Excited, she wagged her tail and spun in a circle, making Seth smile in spite of his earlier melancholy. As long as he continued to take one day at a time, the same way this smart dog did, and stop brooding over a past that couldn't be changed, he'd do fine. Regrets were for fools and dreamers, neither of which was an apt description of him. He was intelligent. A survivor. A fighter.

And if he didn't get a move on he'd be late for work, he added, glancing at his watch.

He patted his thigh. "Come on, old girl. Hop in the truck. It's time to go to town."

The herding dog took off at a run, bounded through the open window of the cab of the old green pickup and turned to look back at him as if to say, "Hurry up, slow poke."

Seth squared his "Serenity Repair Shop" ball cap on his head and slid behind the wheel. There were times, like now, when he could almost feel free, almost forget that he was still in jeopardy in spite of his secure niche in the rural community. If the time ever came that his enemies did locate him, he knew it was going to be harder to pack up and leave these friendly folks than it had been to relinquish his highly-paid, undercover, security job and abandon his luxurious residence outside Philadelphia.

The one thing that spoiled his fond memories of that house, of the life he had once led, was the image of his late wife, Alice, prostrate on the kitchen floor with a note of warning pinned to her nightgown.
 

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