Time ticked away as Heather waited for the sounds to subside upstairs, something that would indicate that Pink and his family had dropped off to sleep. She knew the alarm code, though he’d been careful not to show her, and she could quietly let herself out. One thing the past few weeks in Pink’s house had taught Heather was that she had a gift for computers and electronics. Porter Cross had had a computer and he worked on it constantly, but he wouldn’t let Heather touch it. Isaac Pink had one also, and Heather had spent hours learning from him how it worked and why. She wished she could take it with her.

It was important not to have to explain to Sergeant Pink why she had to leave because she knew she’d lose her nerve as soon as she saw his face. But she also knew that even if the grand jury believed her—and that was a big if—any trial for Cross would be a joke and the man would walk. Where would she be in Pink’s eyes then? She certainly couldn’t live with him and his family forever.

There were other reasons she had to leave. She’d heard Pink on the phone when she wasn’t supposed to be listening. He feared that Cross was actively searching for her, trying to locate her hiding place, and if he found her, Cross would kill her. Pink didn’t have to convince Heather of that; she was certain Cross would kill her when he found her, and there was nothing that would stop him from killing Pink as well. Heather was putting him and his family in danger the longer she stayed.

Sometime after two in the morning, Heather got up from bed. She peered out into the dark night and saw that rain was falling. Pulling on a thin Windbreaker over her sweater, she zipped it up and grabbed her backpack. Something fell onto the floor, sounding like a tremendous explosion to her oversensitive ears, and she held her breath before slowly picking it up. It was the small Bible Mrs. Pink had given her.

“Read it, dear. It will give you peace.”

Heather had tried to read it. She’d even asked Mrs. Pink to explain a paragraph or two to her, and a couple of passages she’d read had warmed her heart. After all, God was supposed to defend the fatherless. But the book hadn’t stopped her fear. Still, she opened her backpack and shoved it inside, then zipped it back up. Slinging the pack onto one shoulder, she opened her bedroom door and stepped into the kitchen, wincing when the floorboard creaked. After a minute, hearing no other sound, she continued forward.