Page 136 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Save me.

Only He could save her now. She was defenseless.

Utterly defenseless.

The car hadn’t traveled far when it slowed down and took a sharp turn. It stopped, and she heard a mechanical hum, which lasted only a few seconds before it stopped. The car moved forward slowly.

Salcito had pulled into a garage. Were they at his house? Garrett had said there were only summer homes higher up the mountain. Maybe Salcito owned one. But why would he own a summer home in the town where he lived?

She didn’t understand.

Not that it mattered.

They were here, whereverherewas, and Salcito was going to kill her.

Even so, she would trust in God.

The only person who cared whether she lived or died was thousands of miles away, spreading the gospel in Kathmandu. Aspen had never really had her mother’s love. Her father had adored her, but he was gone.

There was Garrett. If Dean was telling the truth, he cared for her. He’d be sorry if she didn’t survive.

The thought of him brought a sob. She’d treated him so poorly. She should have trusted him. She should have at least let him explain. If she could go back and undo one thing, that would be it.

If she’d believed in him, then he would have been at the house with her. She wouldn’t be where she was. None of this would be happening.

She’d been stupid.

Maybe Garrett wouldn’t forgive her, even if she were given the chance to apologize. But Aspen wasn’t defined by the people who loved her or didn’t love her. Her worth wasn’t wrapped up in other people’s opinions.

Her future wasn’t defined by her past. It certainly wasn’t defined by her parents’ past.

Maybe she was the daughter of a murderer. Maybe she was the daughter oftwomurderers. But before either her mother or her father had existed, God had known Aspen. He’d loved her. He’d chosen her. He’ddiedfor her.

She was her father’s daughter. Her mother’s daughter. But mostly, she was God’s daughter. He got to decide who she was. He decided her worth.

And God thought Aspen was priceless.

A car door opened and closed. Then there was nothing but silence that stretched for minutes that felt like hours. She kept praying. It was all she could do.

Her head pounded, but it was better than it had been. The blood on the back of her head didn’t seem to be flowing anymore. The low ache of nausea that had plagued her since the blow at the house, even more so in the trunk of a moving car, faded.

She’d suffered a concussion, no doubt. That wouldn’t be what killed her.

She figured a gunshot would do that job.

Please, Father. Please save me.

Suddenly, the trunk lid opened, and light filled her vision, sending shard-like pain into her head. She closed her eyes against it, then opened them slowly, shielding them with her hand until they adjusted.

Brent grabbed her arm and yanked her up. “Let’s go.” He helped her step out of the trunk and onto the concrete floor of a garage. Two cars were already parked there, including a silver sedan with a dented front fender and a long scratch along its right side.

The car that had forced her off the road two nights before. Which reminded her. “You’re supposed to be in Maine.”

“I was. I stole a friend’s keys and drove his car back here, then switched it with the car my friends leave here year-round. I’ll have their dent fixed by the time they come up this summer.”

“Nobody’ll miss you at the retreat?”

“I’ll show up for the dinner tonight. My car’s been there all along. The whole point of the retreat is to spend time alone with God, so yes, nobody’ll miss me.”

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