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  For Truth

  Jeannette Winters

  An original work of Jeannette Winters, 2018.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  About the Author

  Synchronized Series

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Also by Jeannette Winters

  By Jeannette Winters & Lena Lane

  For Truth

  Turchetta’s Promise Series

  Book Four

  by

  Jeannette Winters

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  For Truth

  Gabriel Turchetta has the world at his fingertips. There isn’t a security system that can stand between him and whatever Intel he’s searching for.

  * * *

  Vanessa Moore is living a lie, changing her name, looks and location. No one knows how broken, scared and alone she really feels. And her life depends on no one finding out.

  * * *

  Yet when Vanessa finds herself stranded, she’s forced to accept help from a stranger. But Gabe is no knight in shining armor. He finds the mystery around her challenging and he wants to uncover more than just her hidden secrets.

  * * *

  Gabe starts breaking down the walls around her heart but if he learns the truth, Vanessa knows she won’t be the only one on the run.

  * * *

  Is she destined to spend a life alone or can he show her what loving someone truly means?

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Joe and Julia. Thank you so much for being part of this wonderful journey with me. The photo shoot was so much fun. Not only a wonderful memory, but you both look fantastic on the book cover. Julia, those eyes…wow.

  Also dedicated to a reader who had shown me so much love and support. As honored by her daughter’s, may Cecile’s kindness and charity be remembered always.

  Karen Lawson, Janet Hitchcock, E.L. King and Marion Arche, my editors you are all amazing!

  To my readers who continue to inspire me with endless messages and kind words. Always make time for romance.

  Cover design by MLDGraphics

  Hate to say goodbye to your favorite characters? The perfect solution is a Synchronized Series! One world. Three authors. Character cross-over. Triple the amount of books. Binge reading at its best.

  * * *

  Each author’s books are full stories you can enjoy individually! But putting them all together weaves an even more pleasurable reading experience.

  * * *

  Chapter One

  The nightmare continued, and it wasn’t one she could wake from. She’d been down this path several times over the past year. Fighting back all emotions, Vanessa Moore reached out for the envelope. She didn’t need to look inside. Once again a new identity and a supposedly safe place to hide was being provided. But . . . Anthony Parker seemed to have an endless amount of connections. Each was willing to sell her out to him whether for a price or to gain favor with Anthony. Either way, none of them seemed to care who stood in their way to get to her. Each time Vanessa settled in, she felt confident she was finally safe until she stepped out into the public and unexplainable shit started happening around her. No one had to tell her she’d been located again.

  And then I have to disappear in the night, again.

  This running, always afraid, is no life, but what choice do I have? Staying there any longer didn’t only put her at risk, but also risked the people who were kind enough to offer her shelter. Vanessa wasn’t willing to risk her family and friends back home in New York, and she wasn’t going to go to stay with random strangers either. The only thing that would make all of this worse would be causing others to suffer because of her.

  So as she had several times already, Vanessa called the number she was given—another woman she’d never met whose name she didn’t know—and asked for help. That one contact name started the process to keep her safe again. For that, she would be forever grateful.

  She forced a smile to Connie, her latest contact. The woman looked close to eighty years old. Vanessa was totally taken off guard when Connie approached her with the safe code word, rabbit. It was an odd one, however Vanessa felt like a rabbit on the run, hiding from the hunter. He wasn’t a man to break his word, and his last ones still haunted her today: There’s only one way out, and that’s in a pine box.

  What Anthony hadn’t counted on was Vanessa making a plan to break free, and now that she was, she wasn’t ever going back to him. But she knew if he ever caught up with her, the pine box would be better than what he’d do to her. A chill ran through her, and she forced herself to concentrate on the here and now. It was all about the details to make her new identity believable. “Thank you for coming out this late to bring these to me.”

  “Oh honey, I might not be a spring chicken, but I do stay up past nine o’clock.” Connie chuckled. “Where you’re headed, you’re going to find they roll the sidewalks up early and there is no nightlife, at least not what most people consider fun nowadays. Chepachet is a small town in a small state, but I think you’ll still love it there. The main street is filled with antique shops and family owned restaurants. All within walking distance too from my cousin Beatrice’s home.”

  “It sounds lovely.” Vanessa wasn’t interested in having a nightlife. The more secluded a place was, the better.

  “Oh, it is. I’ve spent many a summer there with her. I just don’t travel as much as I used to so I haven’t seen her in more than a year. Wish I was going with you. Since her husband passed away she’s been lonely in that big old house, and your company will do her good. Beatrice was more than happy to put you up in a room. You know, she’s not as spry as I am, but then again, I’m a few years younger. So when I told her she was about to have a house guest, she was so tickled. One of her waitresses is out on maternity leave so having you around to help in the coffee shop is perfect timing,” Connie said.

  Coffee shop? Vanessa was hoping for a place where she could always stay inside. The last few times she tried working a job someone spotted her, even with her disguises. Thankfully she’d been staying mostly in boarding houses or motel rooms so no one was directly linked to her. But this would be different. If anyone tracked her to Beatrice’s house, who knew what they’d do to her unsuspecting host? She couldn’t allow Anthony’s wrath to be brought down on a defenseless woman. From the sounds of it, that’s exactly what Beatrice was. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea that I go to—”

  “Hush now. I can see the worry all over your sweet face. You’re going to give yourself premature wrinkles at this rate, and you’re too pretty for that. We all have a calling in this here life. Me and Beatrice, well, this is what we do, help those who need it.”

  Vanessa needed a lot of it and didn’t want to seem ungrateful. If it wasn’t for the kindness of people, she might not be alive right now. If Anthony could find her cleaning horse stalls on a dude ranch in Texas or cleaning motel rooms in San Diego, then a coffee shop would be too easy. She was desperate, but she couldn’t afford to be foolish.

  “Connie, I really appreciate what you and Beatrice are trying to do, but you don’t know what you’re getting involved in. He’s—”

  “Honey, Beatrice’s late husband was a retired Marine. She’s not afraid of any man. And besides, she has a twelve gauge shotgun called Ole Bessie in the house. No one is entering without permission.”

  If Beatrice was a spitfire like Connie appeared to be, she probably did have a gun or two hidden away. “And I don’t want her to have to use them because of me.”

  “You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. Trust me, honey. We’re pros at this. And in case you haven’t figured it out yet, arguing about it is a waste of time. The arrangements are already set.”

  Connie was right. Time was a precious commodity. Vanessa needed to be able to sneak away, but without the new identity Connie had given her, it wouldn’t do her any good. She’d be a sitting duck. She had her destination and the rest she’d study on her trip. Tucking the envelope into the back pocket of her jeans, she smiled, but she knew it wasn’t fooling Connie. It was as fake as everything else about her right now.

  “I promise you honey, one day that smile will be real. You just hang in there.”

/>   “I will.”

  “Good, and don’t forget about Ole Bessie,” Connie reminded.

  “I’ll remember to knock.” Vanessa wished she was staying with Connie. There was something very comforting about her.

  Connie reached out and pulled Vanessa into her arms. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be held in a caring, nurturing way. Leaving her family and friends behind in Upstate New York hadn’t been easy, though doing what was right usually wasn’t. Vanessa let a few seconds of the solace pass. It took every ounce of strength not to break down crying right there.

  “Just remember, dear, you’re not alone. There are a more of us than there are of them.” If only Connie knew just how incredibly alone I feel . . . when will I get my life back?

  What Connie didn’t realize was Anthony wasn’t only one. He was a ruthless, barbaric, and evil tyrant. How I ever dated him is beyond me. He wasn’t only one because he was as many as his money could buy. And he had plenty. People she’d once thought were friends had turned their back on her when she needed them most. Not because they didn’t care, but crossing Anthony was something only a fool would do. And I’ve proven how foolish I am.

  Reluctantly, Vanessa pulled herself from Connie’s grasp and nodded. She didn’t trust herself not to burst into tears if she opened her mouth to speak. She knew her parents must be worried sick about her, and her kid sister, Dori, must be scared to death. It’d been just over a year since she’d seen or spoken to any of them. But she tried to keep up with what was happening back home without anyone finding out. Very little information made it her way. The last she’d heard Dori had left college and moved back home under the close supervision of their parents. Vanessa hated that her poor choice in men had such a ripple effect through everyone’s lives. The only chance they’d ever be able to move on and be happy was if Vanessa never showed her face again. And that’s why I have to stay on the run.

  Picking up her suitcase, which got lighter each time she relocated, she headed to the taxi waiting to take her to the train. Vanessa didn’t feel trapped on a train; no one checked her ID, they only asked for her ticket. With each step farther away from Connie she tried to remind herself she wasn’t really as alone as she felt. More of us? “I’ll try not to forget,” Vanessa mumbled to herself. But they were words she didn’t believe.

  To prove her point, this driver—as others had been in the past—was quiet. It was as though they’d each been informed ahead of time that their passenger wasn’t in any mood for small talk or was a person they didn’t want to know. Either way, that part of her journey was silent. She didn’t want to talk or think anymore. It only reminded her of the emotional pain she carried.

  Vanessa wasn’t so lucky on the train. The first person she sat next to was on his way back to college from school vacation. Obviously this was his first adventure away from home, and he couldn’t stop talking about all the things he’d done that’d make his parents flip if they knew. She wasn’t in the mood to hear about or see pictures from his wild time in New Orleans any more than his parents would be. She could remember being his age, but she was thirty-four now and the days of dreaming and having fun were over.

  When he finally disembarked Vanessa thought she was safe to close her eyes and get some much-needed rest. But a man in his late sixties plopped down next to her and somehow was under the impression she needed cheering up. She forced a smile and tried to appear interested, but nothing he had to say was going to brighten her outlook. She wasn’t having a pity party, but the facts were what they were. She was a woman on the run from a man who’d sworn he’d make her regret the day she ever disobeyed him.

  Vanessa wished there was someone she could share her woes with, but no one would believe her if she did. Anthony was so smooth, and to the rest of the world he was nothing more than a wealthy businessman. He was a master at not getting his hands dirty when dealing with anyone who opposed him. Anthony should be on the FBI’s most wanted list. If they only knew who and what he really was. A monster.

  When her stop in Providence was announced, she thanked the gentlemen for keeping her company. He gave her a wide toothless grin and a hug before she was able to get off the train. She had no idea why everyone around her pulled her into their arms and squeezed her tight. As she approached the glass doors, she understood why. The reflection was of a woman she barely recognized. Not only her newly acquired red hair startled her, but the dark circles around her eyes made her look like a raccoon. Vanessa had stopped traveling with concealing makeup because she thought the days of having to cover up were behind her.

  At least these circles are from lack of sleep instead of Anthony’s fist.

  The bruises had faded and scars vanished so there was no evidence Anthony had ever put his hands on her. But the physical evidence was only a small part. The sleepless nights then and now were from always looking over her shoulder. Living in fear of him was aging her quickly. She hoped Connie was right and Chepachet was the place to hide away. Even if it only lasted a month or so, she was going to try to find peace as long as she could.

  When she exited the train station, she saw a man struggling to hold a sign saying “Beatrice sent me.” It was shaking as he tried to rest it on his walker. It was already after midnight, and she felt horrible that he was out so late. If I’d known, I’d have found another way.

  Vanessa wheeled her one bag over to where he stood and said, “Hi. I’m here to see Beatrice.”

  He put the sign down, gave her a quick once over, and said, “Welcome to Rhode Island. My name is Renee, but everyone calls me Sarge.”

  Vanessa noticed the cap on his head said POW. “Nice to meet you. Would you mind if I call you Renee?” Sarge reminded her of someone in charge while Renee sounded so much more . . . approachable. Easy going.

  He grinned slightly and shrugged. “It is my name. You won’t be the only one who calls me that.”

  The curl of his lips hinted there was something he wasn’t saying. But he seemed to like her choice to call him by his given name. Might not if you knew why I chose it.

  “Great. Please call me Vanessa.”

  “Now, let me take that bag for you, and we’ll get going.”

  Vanessa didn’t release her hold on the bag as she said, “I’ve got it. You just lead the way.”

  Renee shook his head and reached for the bag again. This time he tugged it away from her. “Don’t you let my grey hair or this here contraption fool you. I’m a gentleman and a veteran, and I’ll be damned if a lady carries her own bags.” He pulled the suitcase with one hand and maneuvered the walker with the other. Vanessa was left standing there dumbfounded. Calling over his shoulder, Renee shouted, “Take your time; I’m not leaving without you.”

  She chuckled to herself and scurried to catch up to him. Renee might be up there in years but he was right, she shouldn’t have judged him by his appearance. Renee stopped and lifted her bag into a truck she couldn’t believe was still allowed on the road. It was old, and the rust probably was the only thing holding it together. Somehow she didn’t think he drove it because it was his only option.

  Renee held the door for her, and she climbed in. As they drove down the highway, she felt every bump and curve, and she wasn’t sure if it was the truck rattling or her bones.

  “Ole Flo doesn’t look like much, but when there’s a foot of snow on the ground and everyone else is stuck in it, she’s the one who bails them all out.”

  Vanessa never understood why men named their vehicles or why they became so darn attached to them. Maybe that’s why they last so long. They treat them better than they do women. Ole Flo looked really rough around the edges anyway. At that time of night, Vanessa really couldn’t start looking for another mode of transportation. Besides, she didn’t have Beatrice’s address, just a town. So she took his word for it and, thankfully, it didn’t break down on the ride to Chepachet.