Desperate Measures

FRAMED FOR MURDER

Accused of murdering her estranged husband, widowed mother Samantha Rogers panics and flees. But the real killer is now after her and her son. She’s desperate to find a safe haven where her past is secret. So when John Wagner offers her room and board in exchange for work on a remote island in the Chesapeake Bay, she moves to Smuggler’s Cove. Samantha longs to tell her handsome boss why she’s always looking over her shoulder. But when danger arrives on shore, the truth may put John in a killer’s crosshairs.

“Someone wants me dead,” Samantha said.

She paused, then continued, “I just need a place to lie low for a while. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

John watched her carefully. “Maybe I can help.”

“I appreciate that, but the less you know the better.”

Why couldn’t Samantha trust him?

“If you say so.” He took a step toward the door, realizing he wouldn’t get anything else out of her. It was her choice, and he could do nothing about it.

“John…”

He paused and looked back. “Yes?”

Samantha’s eyes brimmed with tears. “If anything happens to me, will you make sure my son is okay? I just need to know that someone will watch out for him.” Her voice cracked.

His heart ached at the vulnerability of her words. “Absolutely.”

He paused another moment. He didn’t want to leave, and he wasn’t even sure why. But his throat squeezed with pressure, and his feet seemed rooted where they were.

CHRISTY BARRITT

loves stories and has been writing them for as long as she can remember. She gets her best ideas when she’s supposed to be paying attention to something else—like in a workshop or while driving down the road.

The second book in her Squeaky Clean Mystery series, Suspicious Minds, won the inspirational category of the 2009 Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Suspense and Mystery. She’s also the coauthor of Changed: True Stories of Finding God in Christian Music.

When she’s not working on books, Christy writes articles for various publications. She’s also a weekly feature writer for the Virginian-Pilot newspaper, the worship leader at her church and a frequent speaker at various writers’ groups, women’s luncheons and church events.

She’s married to Scott, a teacher and funny man extraordinaire. They have two sons, two dogs and a houseplant named Martha.

To learn more about her, visit her website, www.christybarritt.com.

Desperate Measures

Christy Barritt

I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.

—Psalms 91:2

This book is dedicated to everyone who likes adventures off the beaten path and long for a place where time has stood still.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Samantha Rogers looked over her shoulder, trying to maintain her composure in the inky black parking lot. Her heels clicked against the pavement and the overstuffed paper sack in her arm teetered.

Why weren’t the overhead lights working out here? Sure, the grocery store was in the middle of nowhere, in Yorktown, Virginia, a town where crime was practically nonexistent. But the soft glow of “Hal’s Market” on the sign above her did little to comfort her or guide her steps.

A footfall sounded behind her.

She craned her neck but didn’t see anyone. The sound spooked her enough that she quickened her pace. Her shoe caught in a crack, and she nearly toppled onto the asphalt.

She righted herself, but not before an apple escaped from the top of her bag and rolled under a nearby car.

No way was she stopping to retrieve it. Not with the way imaginary spiders scattered across her skin and her throat ached as she tried to hold her fears at bay. Tension pounded at her ears as she strained to hear another telltale sign that someone was following her.

Her paranoia reared its head at the worst times. But Samantha could have been certain that the man in the grocery store had been watching her. His bulging muscles, heavy jowls, and rocklike hands only made him appear to be dangerous. That’s what she tried to tell herself, at least.

For that matter, the man was probably shopping for the same household staples she was. She’d stopped by on her way home from a late night at work to grab the usual—milk, eggs, bread and some fresh produce. A lot of people stopped to get those things. That’s most likely why the man’s movements inside the store had paralleled hers.

He was just someone on his way home. His wife could have called him and reminded him they were out of milk. That was it.

She may have mentally convinced herself that her theory was true, but her body still remained on alert.

Samantha’s SUV came into view. It was only four parking spaces away. The heavy downpour earlier had flooded the front of the lot, so she’d had to park in the back. Now she wished she’d battled the ankle-high water closer to the store instead.