Hurricane Bay. Heather Graham

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Hurricane Bay - Heather  Graham


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      “Help me, Dane.”

      He could remember her words so clearly, and now, with the lowering sun bringing the onset of evening, he found himself hearing their echo over and over again.

      There were things he should be doing. But he had searched the beachfront over and over again, and he had found exactly what he had expected: nothing.

      His first response upon examining the photo shoved under the door had been to search, regroup, search again, then think it all out and search for a third time.

      No, his first response had been shock. Then sorrow. Deep, gut-wrenching sorrow.

      Then had come the knowledge that he was being framed, and that no matter how hard he searched he wouldn’t find fingerprints or proof of any kind that anyone but he had been on his private beach—with Sheila.

      Who had hated Sheila viciously enough to kill her? Who was cunning, cruel and psychotic—and held such a deep and maniacal sense of vengeance against him?

      HEATHER GRAHAM

      HURRICANE BAY

      This book is dedicated with the deepest gratitude to

       many people.

      First and foremost, Choly Zequeira. You are a saint.

      Sonia Fraser, Kettia Gaspard and Fay C. Watson.

       Thanks for so much.

      The incredible folks at St. Philip’s Episcopal

       Church, Reverends Eric Kahl and Jennie Lou Reid, David Karcher, Joyce and Glenn Downing, Vida Welborne, Ron Theobald, Sylviane Sacasa, George and Myrtice Hektner, Patrice Fike, Judy King, Julie McCready, Ellen Sessions, Lee Turner, the Right Reverend and Holly Richards, Manny and Laverne Diaz, John Dickason and Kris Charlton.

      For the Southeast group—especially Doris McManus,

       Audrey Fetscher and Rocco.

      Sincere thanks also to Dr. Antonio Ucar, Max Sanchez

       and Omar Garcia.

      And with the greatest respect and appreciation to three

       special Metro-Dade policemen—Sergeant Greenberg and Officers Mallon and Szolis of the Kendall division.

      CONTENTS

      PROLOGUE

      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

      CHAPTER 15

      CHAPTER 16

      CHAPTER 17

      CHAPTER 18

      EPILOGUE

      PROLOGUE

      Web loved the Florida Keys.

      In fact, his old nickname, Web, had been born there. So few people knew that name. It was special and unique, to a time as well as a place, just like the islands themselves.

      Like pearls cast against the ocean, the Keys meandered down from Miami in a southwest string of dazzling and opalescent beauty. The water lay on both sides of the many islands, shimmering in shades of aqua, blue, green, ever varying with the different depths. There were two ways to leave the mainland behind, Card Sound Bridge and US1, and once those routes were touched, the magic began. There was nothing in the world like sunrise on the Keys, the sun arcing into the sky in shades of crimson ecstasy, the heavens flaring with sudden light, golds as brilliant as the reds, pastels streaking from the bright colors with a soft beauty that seemed to caress the soul. Sunsets were even more heavenly, when the fiery globe of day began to fall in slow majesty, creating a new realm of color, magenta stretching fiery fingers out to the horizon, fading to threads of yellow-tinged pink and mauve, until silver and gray began to seep in and finally the orb of the sun disappeared with a last gasp of steaming gold and darkness fell.

      There were few other places where darkness could be so complete.

      Not, of course, on the beaten path. Not where the clubs stayed open, and the hotels and motels offered streaming lights for their clientele, and not where the laid-back Tiki bars still sent out soft beacons of welcoming, come-hither brightness. But away from civilization, where nature still prevailed, the darkness could be as complete as a stygian hole, as fearsome as a hell crawling with tiny demons, ready to eat away flesh and go deep enough to consume a human soul.

      Ah, darkness. It could offer so much. Sweet secrets and sins, a place in which to hide…

      And so it was at night, in the darkness, that Web waited, reflecting on the mystery, beauty and romance in the solitude of night and nature. And the task at hand.

      There was an element of danger, of course.

      A small element…but enough to give a little edge to the thrill.

      There were those who thought of Key West as the main draw. But Web found the upper keys far more welcoming and natural. Close to the heady civilization of Miami, far enough away to offer the reefs, the sunrises and sunsets…

      Not to mention shadow and darkness. An aura of mystery in which to meet her tonight. A surprise, of course, since she would have no idea of all he’d planned, the night, the breeze, the salty-sweet scent of the air, the beach…

      Eternity.

      She was so beautiful. Even more so when caught in shimmering rays of light…and shadow.

      Web had planned tonight’s event meticulously. Everything before her arrival had been set, and everything to follow was arranged to a T.

      Almost.

      The day had fallen into place perfectly, but now, as Web waited, the timing began to go awry. All the magic would be lost if she did not arrive soon. And this had to be the night, the night when so much would be solved, when reckoning would be met.

      Web’s watch ticked away the time. Minutes passed, then more minutes. Frustration, nervousness, set in.

      Leave it to Sheila to be late.

      It gave him time to reflect….

      Every move she had ever made touched Web’s heart and soul.

      She had to come. And soon. Or all the detailed plans, the ebony mystique of the night, the brilliant ecstasy of dawn, would be lost.

      And then…a sound.

      Her car on the road.

      Web switched on the portable floodlight.

      The bright beam blinded her. It was like the wrath of God. Her car veering, she braked to an abrupt halt. Web calmly walked to the driver’s side.

      She shielded her eyes with a hand.

      It might all have gone badly then. She might have had the window closed and the air on; it was cooler at night, but they were into the dead heat of summer.

      But she had been driving with her windows open, luckily. It was a nice night. The air touched with coolness, a forerunner of the storm that would come in during the next day or two. The storm, of course, was part of the perfect plan.

      “Who…what the hell?”


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