Hurricane Bay
Dane Whitelaw knows something about Sheila Warren that no one else does. Dane knows Sheila's dead. The private investigator found a photo under his door–a picture of Sheila, strangled with his tie and posed on the beach of his private island in the Florida keys. The crime appears to be the handiwork of a serial killer currently terrorizing the Miami area. Now Dane knows he is being set up to take the fall for the killings. He just doesn't know why.When Kelsey Cunningham's best friend goes missing, she confronts the one person she thinks will have information–Dane, Sheila's former lover and a man from Kelsey's own past. Kelsey follows Sheila's tracks into a dangerous world of sex, violence and drugs, with Dane right behind her.But the tentative trust between them shatters when Sheila's body is discovered–and Kelsey recognizes Dane's tie. Now Kelsey doesn't dare trust anyone. Especially a man she can no longer deny she has always loved.Because here on Hurricane Bay, a devastating storm can hit without warning. And whether it’s a tempest of unbridled passion or the desperate fury of a killer, nothing–and no one–is safe.
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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.
