WITNESS IN JEOPARDY
When Gwen Harwell witnesses someone dumping a body into a Tennessee river, she knows she’s the killer’s new target. Far from home on a work assignment, she isn’t sure where to turn—especially when her ex-husband appears. Five years ago, Dean Harwell’s burdens from his police work tore their marriage apart. But now he says he’s changed. He’s working as a rancher; he’s put his problems behind him. And he’s committed to keeping her safe until the killer is caught. With their troubled past, trusting him with her life is hard enough. Can she trust him with the truth about the child he doesn’t know they have?
Smoky Mountain Secrets: Love and danger collide in the Southern wilderness
“Gwen, are you all right?” Dean asked.
Gwen looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, and his stomach tightened at how often he’d been the cause of her tears in the past. She had once said she would never forgive him, and he believed her.
He wished he could let her know how he regretted that, but now was not the time to tell her.
She nodded. “When I smelled that gasoline, I was so scared. Then I thought I was the only one who’d survived the wreck.”
Dean smiled. “But you called 911 anyway. That was quick thinking.”
Her cheeks flushed, and a smile pulled at her lips. “I’m just glad that your cell phone fell out of your pocket.”
Their stilted conversation reminded him of how different things were now between the two of them compared to what they’d been years ago. How he wished he could go back and tell that young police officer to do things differently, but he couldn’t.
“Gwen, I—” he began, then stopped as someone approached them.
What was done, was done, and the past couldn’t be changed.
But the present could.
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.
In a Killer’s
Sights
Sandra Robbins
Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.
—Isaiah 1:18
Dedicated to Kylie, who gave me the idea for
setting a story on a dude ranch in the Smoky Mountains
Contents
Gwen Anderson planted her feet in a wide stance and stared down into the crystal clear waters of the Great Smoky Mountains stream twenty feet below. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the fall foliage, casting shadows across the water. Her position provided the perfect photo op for her research. In a few months, she would begin producing a documentary about the most visited national park in the country for WNT, a New York–based television network.
Her camera hung on a strap around her neck, and she raised it to her eyes. A strand of hair slipped out of her metal hair clip and wedged itself in front of the viewfinder. With a sigh, she adjusted the clip and tugged on it to make sure it was anchored in place. Then she raised the camera and peered through it, scanning the terrain below in an effort to get the best shot.
As she inched closer to the edge, she stepped on a loose rock she hadn’t seen in the moss, and her foot slipped. With a scraping sound, the rock tumbled downward. She cringed at the sound of it knocking against the limestone face and releasing a small avalanche of other stones. For a moment she teetered on the edge of the cliff, thinking she might very well follow them, but then she steadied herself.
The thud of stones striking the ground reached her ears, but it was another sound that made her breath hitch in her throat. A surprised cry rang out from below. The thought that a hiker or camper had been on the riverbank and was injured by one of the falling rocks set her heart to pounding. Dreading what she’d see, Gwen stepped carefully to the brink and stared down.
Her eyes widened in shock at the sight below. A man dressed in camouflage, with a body draped over his shoulder, stood at the edge of the water and stared up at her. Although the black ski mask he wore covered his face, his eyes glared