Bits and pieces of the truth hit her with dynamic revelation.
Ashley’s thoughts whirled like an off-center gyroscope. Too late she sensed a presence behind her.
Before she could move, a strong arm came around her and pinned her back in the chair. She glimpsed her attacker’s face as a needle plunged into her neck.
“No…no…please, no!” Her cries echoed in her ears as her body disintegrated into a thousand floating pieces.
Brad’s face came into her mind and the thought that she might never see him again made her cry out again.
And then her world went black.
Charmed
Leona Karr
In appreciation to Carol McNulty.
Many thanks for sharing such
wonderful background material.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A native of Colorado, Leona (Lee) Karr is the author of nearly forty books. Her favorite genres are romantic suspense and inspirational romance. Graduating from the University of Colorado with a B.A. and the University of Northern Colorado with an M.A., she taught as a reading specialist until her first book was published in 1980. She has been on the Waldenbooks bestseller list and nominated by Romantic Times BOOKclub as Best Romantic Saga and Best Gothic Author. She has been honored as the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writer of the Year, and received Colorado’s Romance Writer of the Year award. Her books have been reprinted in more than a dozen foreign countries. She is a presenter at numerous writing conferences and has taught college courses in creative writing.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Ashley Davis—She came to Greystone Island because her sister’s life was in jeopardy. Did the same hidden menace wait in the foggy mists for her?
Brad Taylor—As sheriff on Greystone Island, he had to solve the mysteries of the past before he could bring a hidden murderer to justice.
Lorrie Davis—Ashley’s sister’s disappearance sparked a manhunt and reawakened the past.
Clayton Langdon—His wealth dominated his family and their island estate. What secrets haunted the Langdon mansion?
Jonathan Langdon—What was the oldest Langdon son’s role in his family’s web of violence and mystery?
Sloane—An island drifter. Was his obsession with Lorrie strong enough to hurt her and leave her for dead?
Dr. Hadley—As a close friend of the Langdons’ and the island’s only medical expert, what secrets did he have to hide?
Samantha Langdon—Did her guarded secrets set a lingering evil in motion?
Pamela Langdon—Was she the catalyst for all that happened?
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Night shadows had already fallen when Ashley Davis’s taxi reached the rugged coastline of Portland, Maine. Wisps of fog floated over choppy gray water, and a blanket of heavy, dark clouds heralded the approach of an Atlantic storm.
“You’ll have to wait until morning for a ferry or hired boat,” the driver briskly informed her as he opened the door and set down her single suitcase. “You won’t be finding any transportation to Greystone Island this time of night.”
“I have to,” Ashley answered flatly as she handed him the fare.
As he drove off, Ashley slung the strap of her alligator purse over her shoulder and picked up her suitcase. Shivering in her lightweight beige knit jacket and slacks, she realized her San Francisco wardrobe wasn’t going to be suitable for Maine weather, even in early September. She hadn’t even considered something as mundane as the weather after she’d received the telephone call from Portland late that morning.
She had been stunned when a female police officer had informed her that her sister, Lorrie, had disappeared while working on an island off the coast of Maine.
“Some of her belongings were found at the top of a steep cliff about midday, and one of her shoes on the rocky beach below.” The officer added that the authorities were speculating the young woman had fallen or jumped into the rough current, and that her body had been swept out to sea.
Ashley was stunned. “No, I don’t believe it.”
“I’m sorry. We’ll let you know about any further developments.”
Not Lorrie! She’d gone to Greystone Island to catalogue some vintage clothing being offered for auction by a wealthy family who owned an estate on the Atlantic side of the island. The Langdons’ island property had belonged to the illustrious family since the late 1800s, and they had decided to release a collection of vintage clothing accumulated over several generations.
Lorrie had called from New York, all excited. “I’ve been hired by a prominent New York auction house to make an inventory and pack the collection for shipment.” She’d sounded enthusiastic and confident about the assignment.
During the week she’d been on the island, Lorrie had called Ashley several times with glowing reports about how well the inventory was going.
She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t!
They’d always been very close, raised by a widowed mother who provided for her two daughters by working as a seamstress in one of the fashionable New York designer houses. Both girls had grown up with a heightened sense of fashion and color, and both had attended a Manhattan design school. After their mother’s death, Ashley had left New York and started a successful business, Hollywood Boutique, specializing in original beaded bags, coin purses, and accessories. Now at age thirty, she employed three women full-time and was kept busy creating intricate beaded designs that bore her trademark. Lorrie had stayed in the New York area, working freelance for museums and auction houses offering vintage apparel.
Now she’s missing! Presumed dead!
Ashley had left her shop in the hands of a trusted employee, Kate Delawny, and secured a seat on the first available flight. She had endured several hours of layovers in connecting flights across the country. A sense of disbelief had traveled with her every minute of the journey as she tried to absorb the shock.
Now she stood shivering in the foggy night air. Her ears were filled with the sound of the pounding surf lashing the wharf. Anchored boats in a marina tugged at bowlines like captured animals struggling to get free from their chains. Lights in a nearby parking lot did little to illuminate the empty ferry station or the dark harbor-master’s small building with its posted sign for the next day’s public transportation. The bay was dotted with numerous crafts looking like ghostly specters on the black surf. There were signs advertising daily water trips—all