You Can't Hide
Table of Contents
Praise for Theresa Sneed's Escape series
You Can’t Hide
Other Titles by Theresa Sneed
Dear Reader,
Theresa Sneed
Dedication Page
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Author Bio
Praise for Theresa Sneed’s Escape
Book one in the Escape series
Theresa Sneed’s Escape opened my eyes to the challenges of living with abuse and alcoholism. Escape leaves the reader with hope and the knowledge that there is always a choice. Theresa’s sense of humor shines through her writing as well. She is brilliant.
- Kari Pike, author, editor
I really enjoyed Theresa Sneed’s story, Escape. I meant to read just a couple of chapters, but was hooked and couldn’t put it down until I literally fell asleep reading it. Escape is well written, has nice plot twists, and is very intriguing. - Rebecca Lamoreaux, author
Escape, by Theresa Sneed, is a well-crafted and timely romance. Fast paced, intriguing, with plenty of twists, this novel is a roller coaster ride. - Susan G. Haws, author
I just finished Escape and loved it. Read it in three days ... the story pulled me right in, right away, and right on ... I couldn’t put it down until I finished. I had to know what was going to happen. Great storylines, great plot, great villain. I will read the next one. - Amazon-a-holic
I give Escape a five star review because it was that good. Being the first book I read by this author, I was so impressed. I will be reading more works from this author soon, she is that good. I recommend this story to everyone that likes a lot of suspense and unseen twist and turns. - Gail Holland
Escape was really good. The mystery and suspense were great. There were so many twists and turns you could never guess what was going to happen next. I read this book straight through. - Amazon Customer
Escape is a gripping suspense novel by Theresa Sneed - a new genre for this author. Theresa crafts a powerful mystery that grabs the reader's attention and doesn't let it go, even with the last word. - Rachel Andersen
I just finished this book the other day and I loved it! It kept my interest to the very end. Now I need the next book! - Linda Batt
You Can’t Hide
Escape series
Escape, book 1
You Can’t Hide, book 2
Other titles by Theresa Sneed
No Angel series
Angel with an Attitude
Earthbound Angel
Destiny’s Angel
Earth Angel
Sons of Elderberry series
Elias of Elderberry
The Wood Fairies of Estraelia
Escape series
Escape
You Can’t Hide
Salem Witch Haunt series
Salem Witch Haunt
Return to Salem
Salem Bewitched
So You Want to Write:
A Guide to Writing Your First Book
Fantastic Covers and How to Make Them
Facing Mortality:
Dreams and Other Significant Things
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoy reading You Can’t Hide as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you loved this book, please consider leaving a good review on Amazon, Goodreads, Barnes & Noble, and other social media forums. Your kind words might be the reason that someone else decides to read my books, and for that, I thank you in advance. ☺
- Author, Theresa Sneed
Stay connected with new releases and free e book offers by signing up at my website or from my Facebook author page at
www.facebook.com?TheresaMSneed/
You Can’t Hide
Theresa Sneed
To those who have had the courage and the strength to move on ~ and to those who still need to.
A special thank you to Betsy Love - my beta reader,
and to my readers. :)
Kindle Direct Publishing
www.theresasneed.com
Cover art copyright © Shutterstock.com
Cover Design Copyright © 2020 by Theresa Sneed
Interior Design Copyright © 2020 by Theresa Sneed
Text Copyright © 2020 by Theresa Sneed
All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in
any form without written permission.
ISBN- 9798623152565
My most sincere thanks to my readers – enjoy. A most heartfelt thank you to my beta reader, Betsy Love.
One
Revenge
He flipped the cigarette butt to the floor, smashed his heel into it, and then turned back to his work. The dull blades of the sheers tore the newspaper, the jagged edges reflecting the torment in his mind. You’ll pay for this—all of it. Smoothing the torn ends with the tip of his knife, he pushed it aside with the others.
Gathering the clippings together, he moved to the wall, and one by one, pasted them into the shrine. He stepped back and studied it.
“Perfect.” He pressed a grimy finger against each news article. Elizabeth Heard Rescued by Professor. He spat on it and turned to the next two. Eleanor Elizabeth Heard and Elizabeth Shepherd, One and the Same; Sheriff Merrick Snyder—Impostor, and then, from the newest addition of the Tennessean; Heard to Wed, while Merrick Snyder Faces Death Penalty. In a frenzied fit, he drove the blade of his knife into her picture. “Not if I can help it. Two more weeks, Ms. Heard—two.”
Elle kicked her sandals off and sat on the swing on the back porch. Looking over the lake gave her peace. Nothing in the world mattered but her upcoming wedding to Sam. Still, the events of the prior year haunted her. She shuddered when she thought back to her lapse of memory at the hands of a madman, Merrick Snyder, and was grateful that he was in a high-security prison. He would never get out and would probably die there from old age.
In fact, the word from Sheriff Higgins was that the recent reversal of the moratorium on capital punishment would put the good sheriff as a likely candidate for a new form of death penalty—lethal injection—a more just end for a cop-killer.
A year and a half had passed since Merrick’s indictment, and her life was better than she’d ever imagined. It was almost perfect, except for the nightmares. Shortly after the ordeal, prank calls started up. One or two a month at first, and then the calls escalated to the point that Grandpa Joe had their phone number changed to unlisted.
Sheriff Higgins said that they were copy-cat calls—from sick minds wanting to be a part of it all. She squirmed uncomfortably, wondering what sort of person wanted to inflict fear in another. Ick. Anyhow, the nightmares had died down, and she’d moved on with her life.
She’d gotten her GED and would soon start classes at UMO. It gave her a sense of pride, improving her lot in life. Getting married to a college professor was great motivation. She bit her lip. It troubled her that he was so much smarter than her, but that
was nonsense—he was book smarter, that’s all—just a few more books smarter than she.
Twisting a strand of loose hair around her finger, she grinned at the thought of Sam Hancock—strong, handsome, and so unlike Merrick. How did I ever get so lucky? Lucky, she thought. Me? Hardly, and yet, if all the bad stuff in her life hadn’t happened, she’d never have met Sam. She let the screen door slam behind her and went inside her grandparent’s cabin.
Brochures and wedding catalogs littered the kitchen table. Elle had looked through each one with an eye for frugality, if not to just appease her mother, Lucy Heard. Her mom had sent the magazines and brochures. She wanted her daughter to have an elaborate wedding, but Elle didn’t care if they got married before a judge and ditched the formal wedding altogether. But Lucy was relentless, and called every other day to see how the plans were coming along.
Lucy had begged for the wedding to take place in California, where most of Elle’s family lived, and Elle had reluctantly agreed, with a huge nudge from Sam. She felt bad that Sam’s family would have to incur traveling expenses, but Sam said that when a couple from two different states decides to get hitched, someone would be inconvenienced. She looked up as Grammie Gwen entered the room.
“Have you decided on colors?” Gwen leaned over the pile of papers and books.
“Hmm. Yes, I have, as a matter of fact.”
“Oooo,” Gwen said. “Tell me.”
“Well, let me show you.” She swept the books aside and pulled a bag off a chair. Reaching inside it, she removed a swatch of deep blue material. “These are the colors I want, um, navy blue, for my bridesmaids.” Searching deep into the bag, she took out a handful of pine cones, “this color brown,” and then she removed a bar of natural soap in a burnt orange, and a handful of cranberries, “oh, and this, too.” She pulled a peach from the bag.
Grammie Gwen looked at her like she was crazy. “It’s lovely, dear.”
“Really?” She didn’t think her grandmother was being completely honest.
“Hmm,” Gwen tapped on the soap. “I just can’t picture it.”
“Of course you can’t. That’s just a bar of soup, but imagine it as a flower.”
“Soap as a flower?”
“No, the flowers are the color of that soap.”
Gwen shrugged. “It’s your wedding, sweetheart. Whatever you want is what I want.”
“That’s right, Dearie,” Grandpa Joe said, coming up behind them.
Elle smiled. Grammie Gwen and Grandpa Joe had always supported her in anything she did. It was her mother that she knew she’d have to convince. She was grateful for Lucy’s help though. Elle had been dragging her feet, not because of lack of excitement on her part, but because of the amount of details a wedding took to plan.
She supposed her mother was probably a little put out with her right now. Lucy had already mailed the invitations—three months early, and Elle hadn’t even decided on the food yet. The phone rang. “Oh, that’s probably Mom. She said she’d call at noon today.”
Gwen picked it up and held it to her ear. After a few seconds, she hung it up. “That was strange.”
Elle looked up from the pile of pine cones and soap. “What’s that?”
“No one said anything, and then they hung up.” Gwen picked up the soap and brought it to her nose. “I guess it was a wrong number.”
“Yes, wrong number,” the words trailed off Elle’s lips. Whoever had made that vicious prank call a year ago, wouldn’t be able to call again anyhow. Their new number was known to only a few. “I’m going into town to get a sandwich, you want one?”
“No dear,” Gwen said. “Papa and I are going to Bangor in a bit.”
“Okay,” Elle gave her a quick hug and grabbed her purse. She skipped down the steps and then flung her purse into the jeep, trying to shake off the swirl of fear building in her gut. Whenever she thought about that prank call, it took a while for her anxiety to settle. Maybe some Phil’s Fudge will help calm me down, she thought, as she turned the key and started the engine up.
With Grammie Gwen gone to Bangor, Elle wasn’t in much of a hurry to get back to the cabin. She took another bite of her crab roll—best sandwich ever, well, that, and the ham melt. She stuffed the fudge in her purse and then glanced at her watch. Sam would be back in a little over an hour, and then she had him for the whole weekend—minus his lesson planning and grading papers. Ugh. She glanced around as she left the small restaurant. A quick stop at Bragdon’s Flower Shop, and then she’d head back.
“Hey, thanks, Mr. Bragdon,” she said. Having assured her that any florist could find the perfect matches for her colors, Elle felt more confident in relaying her choices to her mother. She grabbed the steering wheel to hoist herself up into the jeep. From the corner of her eye, she saw something glistening on the floorboard.
What’s that? She walked around to the other side of the jeep to get a better look. Her eyes widened. She recognized it immediately—the distinctive, raised, gold-lettered band from an expensive Cuban cigar, the exact brand Merrick smoked. Her hand shook, as she picked it up, and turned it around in her fingers. Cut it out, Elle, she thought, berating herself. “This is nothing, just a sick coincidence.”
She flicked it to the ground, got into the vehicle, and sped off, putting as much distance as she could between herself and that stupid piece of shiny paper.
Pressing her fingers into her forehead, she groaned. Stop it, Elle. Remember the crazy looks when you wouldn’t stop obsessing about the prank call? With the top down on her jeep, the cigar band could have gotten on the floor in any number of ways—the wind, somebody tossing it aside, or it could have been on the bottom of a grocery bag she put there. Argh. She sighed. There was no need to explain it away. Merrick was on death row. Period. End of story.
She drove in silence. When she arrived, she sat in the jeep and stared at the cabin. Go inside. The cabin was dark, not a light on anywhere. Which is the way it always is when no one’s at home, she thought. This is ridiculous.
Turning the ignition off, she forced herself out of the jeep. Mainers rarely locked their doors, but ever since the prank call, Grammie Gwen always did. That gave her some comfort. She fumbled with her keys, but when she touched the keys to the door, it creaked open on its own.
She jumped back, but then stifled her fear. The door opened like that sometimes from its loose hinges, but not when it was locked. Fear rose up her spine. Stop it. She chided herself. I’m safe here. She’d gone into town before her grandparents, and they probably had forgotten to lock the door. Anyhow, if someone had broken into the cabin, the lock would show signs of tampering.
She let out a puff of air. Of all the days to not have her dog with her. Sam had taken Ginger with him to UMO that morning. Her hands shook, as she held onto the door. She peered around it.
Everything looked okay. Of course it is, Elle. Angry with herself, she pushed the door open, went inside, and then locked it behind her.
The cabin was quiet—too quiet. The hairs on the back of her neck pricked, and even though she fought the urge, she grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen sink, and held it in front of her, as she moved through the room. No one could blame her, even though she’d heard rumors about how crazy they thought she was, but being abducted and held against your will by a lunatic would do that to anyone. She stealthily crept through each room, checking in closets, and under beds.
The cabin was bigger than most on the lake, with two stories, ten bedrooms, and three bathrooms. It took her several minutes, but with each conquered room, she felt stronger, and yes, sillier, too. She was about to bounce back down the steps and return the knife to the sink, when a loud noise downstairs, startled her. Her heart leapt to her throat, and she held the knife tight, inching away from the bedroom door.
Footsteps ascended the stairs and then a scurry of paws hit the wooden steps. Sam’s voice rang out, “Elle, are you up there?” Her hand clutched her throat—finally able to breath, short spasms engulfed her
body. Glancing down at the knife, she panicked. She quickly slid it behind the dresser and opened the door.
“Hi, there,” she said, smoothing her hands against her pants.
He gave her a strange look. “What are you hiding?” He tried to look past her.
She swallowed and kept her expression unchanged. “Um, what are you talking about?”
A slow grin swept across his face. “Oh, wedding secrecy stuff.” He leaned down and kissed her and then held his hands up. “And, I’m so okay with not knowing.”
“Good, because I mean to surprise you.” Her mind raced, and she tried to calm it. Wrapping her arms around him, her trembling lessened, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She guided him out of the room.
“You’re shaking, Elle.” He pulled back. “What’s wrong?”
Oh, dang it. She sighed. Maybe she should just tell him about her weird day—the cigar band and the unlocked door. Heck no. “Nothing, I’m just hungry that’s all.”
“Good, because I brought home supper,” he said, holding up a deli bag. “I got your favorite.” He opened the bag and showed her the crab roll. Two other sandwiches were in the bag—one a ham melt. He must be extra hungry.
“Um, mind if I have the ham melt?”
“Sure.” He cocked his head and stared at her, and then putting his arm around her waist, he pulled her near.
She nestled her nose in the crick of his neck. “Thanks.” Strange how simple things calmed her fears.
He pulled her away and looked into her eyes. “I have another surprise for you.”
She pushed a loose strand of hair from her eyes. “Oh, really?”
“Yes,” he said. He took her by the hand and led her downstairs. At the bottom of the steps, he covered her eyes.