PERILOUS REUNION
The man who killed Mia Fletcherâs husband is stalking herâheâs dangerously intent on searching for something in her possession. But Mia doesnât know what he wants or how to stop him, so she turns to Lucas Knight, fugitive hunter extraordinaireâand her former college boyfriend. When Lucas is pulled from sleep by a pounding on his door, Mia is the last person he expects to see. But after he hears about the killer who jumped bail, he has to help herâ¦even if it means risking falling for her all over again. Can the bounty hunter capture the fugitiveâand Miaâs heartâin time for Christmas?
Bounty Hunters: Finding justice one fugitive at a time
âLucas, please, I need to talk to you.â
His hand tightened on the door. âWe have nothing to talk about, Mia.â
She glanced over her shoulder as if checking to see who might be behind her and turned back to face him. Tears stood in her eyes. âIâm in trouble, Lucas, and I have no one to turn to. Just give me five minutes of your time. Thatâs all Iâm asking.â
Against his better judgment, he stepped aside and nodded. âAll right. Five minutes.â
He closed the door behind them and turned the thermostat up before ushering her into the living room. âHave a seat. I can see youâre upset about something. So tell me about it.â
Mia rubbed her hand across her eyes and sighed. âI hardly know where to start.â After a moment she took a deep breath. âDid you know that Kyle was murdered?â
Lucas exhaled a deep breath. âYes. Itâs been covered enough by the local media. Iâm sorry, Mia. You have my condolences.â
She looked up at him, and he recoiled from the anger that lined her face. âI donât need your pity, Lucas. Not now. I need help to find his killer. Thatâs what I want you to do.â
SANDRA ROBBINS is an award-winning, multipublished author of Christian fiction who lives with her husband in Tennessee. Without the support of her wonderful husband, four children and five grandchildren, it would be impossible for her to write. It is her prayer that God will use her words to plant seeds of hope in the lives of her readers so they may come to know the peace she draws from her life.
Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.
âProverbs 31:30
To the memory of the 18,000 women in the United States who have been killed by men in domestic violence disputes since 2003.
ONE
Mia Lockhart closed her eyes as she stood on the deck of her waterfront house and listened for sounds in the dark night. The only noise that reached her ears was the soft lap of the lake as its gentle waves rippled over the rocky shoreline.
She hugged her arms around her body and shivered in the December cold. Donât let the quiet night lull you into a false sense of security, she said to herself. Youâre not safe. Not yet. But would she ever be? That was the question that was causing one sleepless night after another.
Try as she might, she couldnât make herself grieve over the murder of her husband a month ago. Grieving was for those with good memories of a deceased spouse, not for those who were lucky to have survived being married to a monster.
Her left hand clenched into a fist, and she flexed the arm with the broken bone that had taken so long to mend. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled. A slight smile flitted across her mouth at how much easier it was to breathe now that her ribs had healed.
No wonder she had felt no shock or sorrow when the police arrived at her door with the news of Kyleâs murder. Relief, thatâs what had washed over her. She was finally free of the man who had controlled her life for the past seven years. Free from his possessiveness, his anger and his fists.
But sheâd only been deluding herself, thinking that sheâd never have to fear a man again. Freedom didnât mean she was safe, not when the accused murderer had been able to make bail and had promptly disappeared to become a fugitive from justice. Now Kyleâs killer was somewhere out there, and he knew where she lived.
A gust of wind blew across the deck, and she slipped her hands into the pockets of her jacket, smiling as her fingers brushed the cell phone sheâd tucked inside. Kyle had forbidden her to have a cell phone and even a landline to the house. It only made sense that her first act of freedom was to enter the digital age with a phone and a computer.
Suddenly the phone vibrated, and she tightened her grip on it. Her lips trembled as she pulled it from her pocket. An unknown number glowed on the caller ID. She knew before she answered what the voice on the line would say, but it was as if some unknown force commanded her to answer.