“You’re going to tell me everything tomorrow, remember?” Julie said with a teasing smile at Zach.
“Right.”
After making their way down the stairs, Zach mentally confirmed there were no dead bolts on her door. No alarm system, either. The team of agents would have no problem installing the electronic bugs and audio equipment, the pinhole cameras and microphones.
Zach and his unit would be able to hear every word and see every move inside her home once he had a federal judge approve the surveillance equipment. His gut knotted with worry, realizing that Julie would be here alone tonight in her unsecured house.
“Lock the door behind me.”
“I will. See you in the morning,” she whispered softly.
The door clicked as she shut and locked it behind him. Zach scanned the area along the lake. There were too many hiding places in this remote part of the grounds. Too many places for snipers to focus their scopes on unsuspecting souls and the special agents who were onto them.
Her love for writing started in elementary school, when Janet saw her book report published in the school newsletter. The experience of seeing her written words in print made a powerful impact on her life. She is thankful to God that even when she was a child, He was directing her paths.
The Inn at Shadow Lake is Janet’s debut book. She is thrilled to be a member of the Steeple Hill family.
Married for over thirty years to her high school sweetheart, Janet has two grown children. Prior to working full time on her writing career, she worked as a marketing coordinator, radio talk show host, “extra” on a popular daytime television series (soap opera) and elementary school teacher.
Janet served as secretary of Faith, Hope and Love, the inspirational chapter of Romance Writers of America. She has also served as newsletter editor of a local RWA chapter and is a member of several more RWA chapters throughout the United States. She is also a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers.
Janet and her husband, Richard, live in a Southern-style house in Central Ohio with two adorable little dogs, Buddy and Molly.
Janet Edgar
The Inn at Shadow Lake
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.
—Proverbs 3:5–6
To Richard,
I dedicate this book to you for all the incredible
adventures you have taken me on and for all the
adventures we have traveled together. I love you and
thank God for our life together.
Thank you to my husband, Richard, for encouraging me to pursue my dream of writing women’s fiction. Your unwavering support has and always will mean so much to me. To our children, Sandi and Scott, thank you for always believing in your mom. I love you. And thanks to Mom and Dad and family in New York for your love and encouragement along the way.
To all my writing sisters—what a blessing you have been! There are so many names that come to mind, I can’t possibly list you all. You are members of ACFW, FHL, RWA, CRW, HODRW, KOD, NWHRWA, OVRWA, COFW, the AOL Boards, eHarlequin, the Love Inspired Authors loop and the Heart and Soul loop, where we have the best cyberwriting retreats ever. You know who you are. You’ve critiqued my chapters, prayed with and encouraged me when I was about to give up, cheered with me even when we finaled in the same writing contests. I thank God every day for you and for the road He’s allowing me to travel as I work toward establishing my writing career.
Thank you to Executive Editor Joan Marlow Golan, who almost made me fall off my chair at an editor appointment in Houston, Texas, when you asked for everything I’d ever written and then told me I should give a workshop on how to pitch a book!
Thanks also to my editor, Diane Dietz, whose voice I heard when I received The Call, and who always encourages me to ask any questions I may have as I learn the process of how a book is published.
A special thank-you also to my agent, Danielle Egan-Miller and everyone at Browne & Miller Literary Associates in Chicago, for believing in me and my works, and cheering me on.
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
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
Zach Marshall instinctively ducked and yanked the steering wheel to the right after a sudden blast of gunfire rippled across his back window. The eerie sound of the bulletproof glass taking the impact of the shots rang through his ears.
In his peripheral vision, he noted a man and woman with guns blazing from the black van coming up fast alongside him. Muttering under his breath, Zach expertly maneuvered his vehicle as another barrage of bullets flew past his 4x4.
His cover was blown.
He aimed the truck into the thick cover of tall western red cedars typical of the Pacific Northwest, cut the lights and did a three-sixty. Zach reached for the subcompact .40 Glock he kept tucked in his shoulder holster. He steered the truck back onto the narrow logging road and positioned it so he was now on the bumper of the black van.
Memorizing the license plate number, he floored the gas pedal and lowered the driver’s window. Gun in hand, he took quick aim and fired off a few shots, hitting one wheel. Despite the flat tire he caused, the van shot forward with a sudden burst of energy and disappeared into the damp, dark night.
The engine of Zach’s 4x4 sputtered, the result of a couple of hits to the gas tank. Thankful it didn’t explode, Zach turned the engine off with a twist of the key, and allowed the car to coast.
At least one objective had gone according to plan. He’d finally drawn a remnant of the enemy out of their hiding place.
Someone was onto him.
But who?
Three days later
“I’m en route to the inn now.” Zach glanced out the driver’s window, scanning the dark blur of trees that obscured the edges of the interstate.
Was another shooter hunkered down in the trees, training his scopes on the car? On him? He adjusted the speaker volume of the cell phone mounted to his dashboard. “Any leads on that license plate number I gave you?”
“Just that the van was stolen,” Senior Agent in Charge John Castlerock answered. “No surprise there.”
“What about prints? Did we find anything?” Zach asked.
“Sorry, Marshall. Clean as a whistle. Wish I had better news for you, buddy.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. Those two knew what they were doing.” Zach ran a hand through his hair and studied the county road in front of him. “At least the plan is working. I’m drawing them out in the open.”
“Right. But a lot sooner than we thought. You want Agent Robbins to meet you at the inn?”
“Not yet.” His gaze moved back and forth from the road to the tall trees typical of Washington State. “Let me get a feel for the place first. I’ll let you know.”
Adrenaline rushed through Zach like wildfire in a wind gust when he thought about the attempt on his life. The protection of the special glass and his quick maneuvering of the unmarked FBI vehicle on the empty logging road had saved his life the other night. That and luck. Or divine intervention. It had been a long time since Zach talked to God. Yet even he recognized God’s saving hand.
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