Lone Witness

She wasn’t making it easy.

He was about to tell her that when something crashed through the window a few feet away, smashing the pane of glass and shattering it into millions of tiny shards.

“Get down!” he shouted, diving toward Tessa and tackling her to the ground as light flashed and a ball of fire shot across the room.

Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.

—Joshua 1:9

To my children. Who know me well and love me anyway.

Dear Reader (#u830d3f44-96ff-5f28-887d-347dc0a9ece5),

It’s been thirteen years since my first Love Inspired Suspense book was published. In the years since, many things have changed. My children have mostly grown. I’ve moved several times. I’ve said hello to new friends and goodbye to some old ones. I’ve learned a lot about what it means to be part of a family created not just by blood but by the bonds of friendship, faith and community. It is through those bonds that I have been taught the incredible value of compassion, empathy and kindness.

For Tessa Carlson, life has never been easy. She grew up in tough circumstances and found herself in worse ones. She fled something intolerable and created a life that she could be proud of. When she sees a little girl being kidnapped, she knows that intervening could cost her everything she’s worked for, but she’s not willing to turn her away. As the past she’s fled stalks her, she learns the true meaning of love and the beauty of second chances.

I hope you enjoy Lone Witness, the fourth book in the FBI Special Crimes Unit series. I love hearing from readers. You can reach me at shirlee@shirleemccoy.com (mailto:shirlee@shirleemccoy.com), or find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram.

Blessings,

Shirlee McCoy

Contents

Cover (#ubcb2bae9-cb2f-555d-b4af-c2f697ada798)

Back Cover Text (#uc960a774-a2cb-5fd6-84d5-154bc5fce9cd)

About the Author (#u4c93d7dc-16fd-5112-804b-fbcca69dd7c8)

Booklist (#uf6fef454-806f-5848-aba9-75cffbfc5def)

Title Page (#u77c393ad-d023-5c11-b824-62a7f7340099)

Copyright (#ub174ade4-5b8a-5ab7-a9d4-bb2094001174)

Introduction (#u365394d0-78d6-5463-b084-1c64eed4b619)

Bible Verse (#ubd994104-a32e-54f2-95fb-45540b161ffb)

Dedication (#u24efd5fb-28d5-5ece-9bc5-c23260391bc5)

Dear Reader (#u244a24a1-4add-5d87-b559-30d0642ccfc0)

ONE (#u890c900a-cd25-50d4-b4ef-b3d9a1494ad3)

TWO (#u246fe1d7-f9ec-5b6f-aba0-bb03a8a7b32a)

THREE (#u82f11d39-01a3-511f-a0b1-73939fb0c304)

FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

ONE (#u830d3f44-96ff-5f28-887d-347dc0a9ece5)

Wind buffeted the windows of Tessa Carlson’s tiny cottage, rattling the glass as she rinsed her coffee mug and set it in the sink. Outside, thick shrubs brushed against the siding, scraping against the old wood shingles, the sound eerie and unnerving. Usually, she didn’t feel unsettled by the solitude of winter in Provincetown, Massachusetts. This morning, she felt a little anxious and a little off, as if all the hard work she’d done healing from the past had been wasted.

Three years, four months, twelve hours.

That’s how long it had been since she’d disappeared from Napa Valley. There’d been no missing person report. No emotional plea for her return. She doubted Patrick had cared that she was gone. Although, he’d cared a lot about his reputation. To have his girlfriend walk away had to have been a blow to his ego.

Or, maybe not.

He’d moved on quickly after she’d gone, stepping into a new relationship within months of Tessa’s exit from his life.

She knew, because she’d kept tabs on him. She had been afraid not to.

The man who had once been her Prince Charming, her path out of abject poverty, had become her worst nightmare. The abuse had been subtle at first. A quick insult. A veiled threat. Eventually, veiled threats had become overt. Words had become shoves and slaps. She had spent eight years believing things would get better and another planning her escape. She had known leaving was the only way to survive, but it had still been the most difficult thing she’d ever done.

She’d grown up tough. She’d had no idea who her father was, and very little idea of what a mother should be. Hers had always been hopped up on drugs or coming down from a high. There’d been nothing stable about the life she’d lived in the Los Angeles projects, but she’d been working to get herself out when she’d met Patrick.

He’d been the antithesis of everything she had hated about her life. Polished and refined, well-mannered and quick to offer compliments, he’d taken advantage of an eighteen-year-old’s desperation. She could see that now. At nearly thirty, she understood that she had been groomed to be his plaything, his prize. He had never loved her. He had loved the control he had over her.

Still, nine years was a long time to be with someone. It was a long time to love someone who didn’t love you.