Top Secret Identity
HER NEW LIFEMorgan Smith had to give up her name, her calling and her past when she entered the witness protection program. Now a caretaker of horses on an Iowa farm, she spends her days in the stables and helping kids learn to ride. But danger has followed her. She longs to tell her handsome boss, Alex Reardon, everything–about the troubled adoption agency she worked for, a missing infant and the attempt on her life. But sharing her past with Alex could put him in grave danger and lead a killer to their door….Witness Protection: Hiding in plain sight
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HER NEW LIFE
Morgan Smith had to give up her name, her calling and her past when she entered the witness protection program. Now a caretaker of horses on an Iowa farm, she spends her days in the stables and helping kids learn to ride. But danger has followed her. She longs to tell her handsome boss, Alex Reardon, everythingâabout the troubled adoption agency she worked for, a missing infant and the attempt on her life. But sharing her past with Alex could put him in grave danger and lead a killer to their door.â¦
Witness Protection: Hiding in plain sight
Morgan was all alone out there.
After ten more minutes of riding on the horse, panic set in. She didnât see any light or even any landmark that could guide her home. She thought about the fire and the man sheâd seen earlier around her house. The darkness only fed her fear.
The horse stopped abruptly at the creek bed, pitching Morgan into the river. Morgan stood up, only to be knocked down by a torrent of water. A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the shore. Fear sank in like the teeth of a lion.
âLeave me alone.â She hit the riderâs chest hard.
The rider released her. âHey, hey.â The voice was Alexâs. He gripped her arms above the elbow.
She was soaked to the bone, but the strength of Alexâs touch and sound of his voice warmed her.
âYou were really scared there,â he said.
More than anything she wished she could explain to him why she was so on edge.
* * *
SHARON DUNN
has always loved writing, but didnât decide to write for publication until she was expecting her first baby. Pregnancy makes you do crazy things. Three kids, many articles and two mystery series later, she still hasnât found her sanity. Her books have won awards, including a Book of the Year award from American Christian Fiction Writers. She was also a finalist for an RT Book Reviews Inspirational Book of the Year Award.
Sharon has performed in theater and church productions, has degrees in film production and history, and worked for many years as a college tutor and instructor. Despite the fact that her résumé looks as if she couldnât decide what she wanted to be when she grew up, all the education and experience have played a part in helping her write good stories.
When she isnât writing or taking her kids to activities, she reads, plays board games and contemplates organizing her closet. In addition to her three kids, Sharon lives with her husband of twenty-two years, three cats and lots of dust bunnies. You can reach Sharon through her website, www.sharondunnbooks.net.
Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy as unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame.
âSong of Songs 8:6
For my husband, Michael, because your support and unconditional love has made all the difference in the world.
Special thanks and acknowledgment to Sharon Dunn for her contribution to the Witness Protection miniseries.
Contents
ONE
A wave of terror washed over Morgan Smith when she heard the tapping at her window. She gripped the book sheâd been reading a little tighter. Someone was outside the caretakerâs cottage. Had the man who had tried to kill her in Mexico found her in Iowa?
Though sheâd been in witness protection for two months, her fear of being killed had not subsided. Only a few days ago, sheâd left Des Moines for the countryside and a job at a stable because sheâd felt exposed in the city, vulnerable. Sheâd grown up on a ranch in Wyoming, and when she worked as an American missionary in Mexico, sheâd always chosen to be in rural areas. Wide open spaces felt safer to her.
With her heart pounding, she rose to her feet and walked the short distance to the window, half expecting to see a face contorted with rage or clawlike hands reaching for her neck. The memory of nearly being strangled made her shudder. She stepped closer to the window, where there was only blackness. Yet the sound of the tapping had been too distinct to dismiss as the wind rattling the glass.
A chill snaked down her spine.
Someone was outside.
If the man from Mexico had come to kill her, it seemed odd that he would give her a warning by tapping on the window.
She thought to call her new boss, who was in the guesthouse less than a hundred yards away. Alex Reardon seemed like a nice man. Sheâd hated being evasive when heâd asked her where she had gotten her knowledge of horses. Sheâd been fortunate to get the job without references. Her references, everything and everyone she knewâall of that had been stripped from her, even her name. She was no longer Magdalena Chavez. Her new name was Morgan Smith.
