Witness on the Run. Hope White
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“My mind is a complete blank,”
Robin said, her eyes tearing.
“It will come back to you in time,” Jake said. Hoped.
“I get the impression I don’t have time.”
Jake shoved his hands into his leather jacket pockets.
“Someone’s after me, aren’t they?” she said in a soft voice.
“You’re safe here in the hospital.”
“You’re kidding, right? I almost died in the E.R., then a crazy cop handcuffs me and accuses me of being involved.”
Jake took a step closer. “It won’t happen again. I’m here and I’ll make sure no one gets to you.”
“I’m afraid of what comes next,” she said.
“Don’t be. Just rest. That’s the best thing you can do for yourself.”
She nodded and closed her eyes and he suddenly wondered if this was his chance at redemption. He’d see Robin through to the end and make sure she wasn’t another innocent victim of violence.
HOPE WHITE
An eternal optimist, Hope was born and raised in the Midwest. She began spinning tales of intrigue and adventure when she was in grade school, and wrote her first book when she was eleven—a thriller that ended with a mysterious phone call the reader never heard!
She and her college sweetheart have been married for thirty years and are blessed with two wonderful sons, two feisty cats and a bossy border collie.
When not dreaming up inspirational tales, Hope enjoys hiking, sipping tea with friends and going to the movies. She loves to hear from readers: [email protected].
Witness on the Run
Hope White
MILLS & BOON
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Be strong and take heart,
all you who hope in the Lord.
—Psalms 31:24
To Larry, for your amazing support,
encouragement and love.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EPILOGUE
LETTER TO READER
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
ONE
Monday couldn’t come fast enough for Robin Strand.
As she packed her briefcase with the printouts of checklists and sign-up sheets for tomorrow’s pediatric cancer walkathon, she took a deep breath and reminded herself she loved her job as a special events coordinator. And she really did, but sometimes having alternate hours than the rest of the world was a drag.
On cue, her cell rang. She eyed the caller ID. Jenn.
“Hey, Jenn, what’s up?” Robin said.
“We’re waiting for you at the Five Spot.”
“What time is it?” She swung her briefcase over her shoulder and flicked off the desk lamp.
“Nearly nine.”
“I don’t know, Jenn. I’ve got so much work to do before the walkathon Sunday.”
“You’re not at work, are you?” she scolded.
“Uh…”
“You so shouldn’t be there, Robin. Come on, swing by the Five Spot. Right now. I’m ordering you a longhorn burger as we speak,” Jenn said.
Robin’s mouth watered. “You’re cruel, you know that?” She locked up the office and headed to the elevators. Being a parttime receptionist, Jenn didn’t have the same level of commitment that Robin had for her work.
“You really need to come join us,” Jenn added. “I got us a two-for-one deal on dinner.”
Robin noticed light streaming through an office down the hall. She thought she was the only one dumb enough, or most lacking a social life, to be at the office on a Friday night. Then again the building was home to its share of overachievers like Destiny Software Design, Remmington Imports and Vashon Financial.
Then there was Robin, whose job was her life. Since she was in charge of Sunday’s walkathon for the Anna Marsh Pediatric Cancer Foundation, she would probably be back here tomorrow working on volunteer rosters and donation lists.
“Hey, Trevor just showed up,” Jenn announced.
“Great. My hair’s a mess, my make-up is nonexistent, and I’m exhausted.”
“Tough. Get your fanny down here.”
“Thanks, but…” Her voice trailed off as movement caught the corner of her eye. Robin glanced into the Remmington Imports office on her right.
And froze at the sight of a tall, bald man aiming a gun at a second man who slowly raised his hands. Shocked and unable to process what she was seeing, Robin couldn’t move.
A resounding bang made her shriek. Every cell in her body screamed run! But for half a second her legs were paralyzed.
“What was that?” Jenn’s voice cried through the phone.
Robin stared through the window at the limp body on the floor. Blood spread across his crisp white shirt and seeped into the carpeting.
“He shot him.” Then her gaze drifted up from the wounded man to the shooter.
Cold, black eyes stared back at her. Death eyes.
He stepped toward Robin, pointed his gun…
She took off like the eighth-grade, track-and-field champ that she once was. Do it for your brother. Make him proud.
Her brother, Kyle. Looks like she’d be joining him