Exit Strategy
THE WIDOW'S PROTECTORLark Porter thinks she'll find answers about her husband's death when she returns to their former home, but someone doesn't like the questions she's asking. She's quickly taken captive, and all that stands between her and certain death is a mysterious stranger telling her to trust him if she wants to get out alive. Hostage Rescue and Extraction Team member Cyrus Mitchell marvels at Lark's strength and determination to survive. The closer they get to freedom, the more dangerous the situation becomes. Once free, though, it takes all the skills and training Cyrus has to outmaneuver the deadly killers on their trail.Mission: Rescue–No job is too dangerous for these fearless heroes
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THE WIDOWâS PROTECTOR
Lark Porter thinks sheâll find answers about her husbandâs death when she returns to their former home, but someone doesnât like the questions sheâs asking. Sheâs quickly taken captive, and all that stands between her and certain death is a mysterious stranger telling her to trust him if she wants to get out alive. Hostage Rescue and Extraction Team member Cyrus Mitchell marvels at Larkâs strength and determination to survive. The closer they get to freedom, the more dangerous the situation becomes. Once free, though, it takes all the skills and training Cyrus has to outmaneuver the deadly killers on their trail.
Mission: RescueâNo job is too dangerous for these fearless heroes
âIf he comes back, Iâll fight for you. Youâll fight for you. Between the two of us, we should be able to keep you safe.â
âWhoâs going to keep you safe?â Lark asked.
âIâm pretty good at doing that myself,â Cyrus said, taking her arm and leading her around the side of the building.
âIâm pretty good at doing it, too, Cyrus,â Lark said as she lowered herself into the passenger seat of the car. âBut even people who are good at taking care of themselves, people who have always kept themselves safe, need help sometimes. I learned that while I was lying in that trailer praying that God would send someone to help me. Iâm not going to forget that you were the one He sent. And, if youâre ever in trouble, if youâre ever at the point where you really do need someone to step in, I can guarantee you that Iâll be the first to show up.â
She closed the door before he could respond.
It was for the best. Cyrus wasnât sure what he would have said.
Aside from her faith and her family, thereâs not much SHIRLEE MCCOY enjoys more than a good book! When sheâs not teaching or chauffeuring her five kids, she can usually be found plotting her next Love Inspired Suspense story or wandering around the beautiful Inland Northwest in search of inspiration. Shirlee loves to hear from readers. If you have time, drop her a line at [email protected].
Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. At that time each will receive their praise from God.
â1 Corinthians 4:5
To Ronda Tumberg, who has always spelled my name correctly.
In loving memory of her sweet son Radley Eaton, who lived the entirety of his life in just a few short days, but who touched more hearts in that time than most people ever will.
Contents
Cold.
It speared through Lark Porterâs long-sleeved sweater, settled deep into her bones. She shivered, clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering. The slivers of light that seeped through the cracks in the trailer during the day had disappeared hours ago. Sheâd waited, because sheâd wanted Elijah Claytonâs security team to think she had given up. She hadnât.
She wouldnât. Not now. Not in another day or two or three. Joshua deserved better than what heâd gotten. He deserved justice. Sheâd come to Amos Way to get it for him. She wouldnât quit before she accomplished that goal.
An image of her husband flashed through her mind. The way heâd been on their wedding day, happy and smiling, his dark suit just a little big in the shoulders. Joshua had written his own vows, promising to cherish Larkâs heart for as long as they both lived.
Three years.
That was all theyâd had.
Elijahâs doing, and she planned to prove it.
Or die trying.
She rolled to her side, turning her back to the security camera and shimmying forward until her hands were level with the nail that stuck out of the wall. At least sheâd been tied up with her hands in front of her. Every night, she tried to cut through the ropes that held her wrists. Every night, she failed.
Tonight might be different.
She held on to that thought, clung to it as she rubbed the rope against the nail. Back and forth. Up and down. Subtle movements. Slow movements. Counting. One. Two. Three. Wait ten. Start again. One. Two. Three. She missed and the nail raked against skin already raw from five nightsâ worth of struggling.
Five nights.
Six days.
Heading into another long night.
How many more did she have?
At some point, Elijah would be done with whatever game he was playing. When that happened, she would die. She knew that as surely as she knew that Joshua hadnât accidentally shot himself eighteen months ago, that heâd been murdered.
She dragged the rope against the nail again and again and again, thought the bonds might be loosening. Prayed that they were. As determined as she was, as much as she wanted to succeed, the odds were against her. She was tied up in a rotting trailer, sitting at the edge of a religious compound deep in the heart of a Pennsylvania forest. She could scream all she wanted, beg all she wanted, but there wasnât a person in the compound whoâd help her. They all believed the lies, supported the cause. And the cause was Elijahâs dogma, his doctrine.
