No Safe Harbor
Allison Winchesterâs old Victorian house contains a valuable secret code, one that someone is dead set on uncovering. After her house is ransacked and her life is threatened, she has no choice but to accept the protection of injured ex-cop Blake Townsend. Allison never thought sheâd trust a man with secrets againâand Blake is as much a mystery as the man who is stalking her. The lawman vows to shield her from the dangerous criminal. But can Blake and Allison decipher the mysterious code before their island safe haven becomes their ultimate resting place?
âWhatâs on the paper?â
A flash of panic shot through her eyes. âWhat paper?â
âThe one I overheard you mention. Where did it come from?â
Several seconds passed in silence. Finally Allison sighed. âThe newel post in my house. I found it after the break-in. All it had on it was numbers and letters.â
âAny idea what they mean?â
âNot a clue.â
For the next several moments she didnât meet his eyes. Blake was pretty sure she was telling the truth. But he was equally sure there was something she was keeping from him. He had to make her trust him.
âNot to scare you or anything, but what do you think this guy is going to do when he exhausts places to search? What do you think his next step will be?â
She slowly lifted her gaze and met his. Her eyes were filled with fear. âI have no idea. I try not to think about it. Because if I did, Iâd never sleep again.â
CAROL J. POST
From medical secretary to court reporter to property manager to owner of a special events decorating company, Carolâs résumé reads like someone who doesnât know what she wants to be when she grows up. But one thing that has remained constant through the years is her love for writing. She started as a child, writing poetry for family and friends, then graduated to articles, which actually made it into some religious and childrenâs publications. Several years ago (more than sheâs willing to admit), she penned her first novel. In 2010, she decided to get serious about writing fiction for publication and joined Romance Writers of America, Tampa Area Romance Authors and Faith, Hope & Love, RWAâs online inspirational chapter. She has placed in numerous writing contests, including RWAâs 2012 Golden Heart®.
Carol lives in sunshiny central Florida with her husband (who is her own real-life hero) and writes her stories under the shade of the oaks in her yard. She holds a bachelorâs degree in business and professional leadership, which doesnât contribute much to writing fiction but helps a whole lot in the business end of things. Besides writing, she works alongside her music minister husband singing and playing the piano. She also enjoys sailing, hiking, campingâalmost anything outdoors. Her two grown daughters and grandson live too far away for her liking, so she now pours all that nurturing into taking care of three fat and sassy cats and one highly spoiled dog.
Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.
âMatthew 11:28â30
First of all, I would like to thank all the wonderful people in Cedar Key who patiently answered my questionsâChief Virgil Sandlin of the Cedar Key Police Department, Chief Robert Robinson of the Cedar Key Fire Department, Debbie Smith of the Cedar Key Chamber of Commerce, Leslie Landress of the Harbour Master Suites and too many others to list. Youâve made researching this book a joy.
Thank you to my family for your encouragement and support and talking me up to all your friends.
To my critique partners, Karen Fleming, Dixie Taylor and Sabrina Jarema, for your valuable input and the great plotting and research weekends in Cedar Key. We managed to have lots of fun amid all the work.
To my awesome editor, Rachel Burkot, and my wonderful agent, Nalini Akolekar. Youâre both the greatest!
And thank you to my husband, Chris. If I had it to do all over again, Iâd still choose you.
ONE
Allison Winchester lay stock-still, every muscle tight with apprehension.
Something had awoken her. A noise. Different from the usual creaks and groans of the old Victorian.
But all was quiet. Was it her imagination? The remnants of a dream?
She eased into a semi-upright position and propped herself on her elbows. A full moon cast its silver glow into the room, the lace curtains making shadowed patterns on the furnishings. The door was closed, her robe hanging from a hook on its back. Next to the bed, two shams and a half dozen throw pillows lay stacked in the upholstered chair with a stuffed Garfield perched on top. Everything was exactly as she had left it. A sliver of tension slid away.