Something glittered at her in the middle of the bed. Something small and shiny.
Kim began to tremble. Slowly this time, she pulled the sheets and mattress pad back, the blood from her hand leaving bright red streaks on the flowered cotton.
Now she could see it.
The tip of a shiny metal blade, sticking up from her mattress. Pointed and sharp, the rest of the knife was hidden from view, buried deep inside the mattress.
But she didn’t have to look. She knew what the knife would look like. She knew the blade would match the scars on her thigh.
She dropped to her knees, staring at the steel tip. Then she yanked the cell phone off her waistband, dialed Sean’s number, hit send and grabbed the gun off the nightstand.
She would be a victim no longer.
The Sharpest Edge
Stephanie Rowe
For Amanda, who makes our family better by joining it.
Acknowledgments:
Thanks, as always, to my wonderful agent, Michelle Grajkowski, for always encouraging me to spread my wings and believing in my ability to pull off the impossible. And to my talented editor, Wanda Ottewell, for refusing to give up on me. And to JR, for believing in me every step of the way. And a special thanks to my brother, Ben, for freaking out at Squam Lake that night, thinking there was a bear on the roof. You inspire me! Here’s to many more such memories at the new abode. And to my parents: every success I have today is because of the foundation you gave me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A lifelong reader of romance, Golden Heart winner Stephanie Rowe wrote her first novel when she was ten, and sold her first book twenty-three years later. After experimenting with a legal career, she decided wearing suits wasn’t her style and opted for a more fulfilling career entertaining herself and others with stories of romance, humor and, of course, true love. She currently shares her household with two dogs, two cats and her own hero. When not glued to the computer or avoiding housework, she can be found on the tennis court, reading, or inviting herself over to her mom’s house for dinner. You can reach her at www.stephanierowe.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Kim Collins—Ten years ago, to save herself, she left the man she loved. Will his reappearance in her life finally destroy her?
Sean Templeton—A cop who has returned home, determined to start a new life free from the pain of his past.
Jimmy Ramsey—A man with one thing on his mind: payback.
Max Collins—Will he awake from his coma, and what secrets will he reveal if he does?
Helen Collins—She will do anything to save the man she loves.
Allan Haywood—How far will he go to protect Kim?
Didi Smith—Will her access to inside information be enough to save others, or will it make her a victim in this deadly game?
Chief Vega—Will his loyalty to his staff make him blind to the real threat?
Tom Payton—Is the marina assistant’s innocent persona legit?
Will Ambrose— A front-desk attendant who may not be what he seems.
Garth McKeen—A cop with either an agenda or not enough experience. Which is it?
Eddie—Does the old harbormaster know more than he should?
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
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter One
I will come for you.
Kim Collins bolted upright in bed, adrenaline spiking. What was that? A whisper in the wind? Or her imagination? A premonition of a future soon to be hers? The promise of a man whose only goal was to kill her?
I will come for you.
Her heart pounded in her chest, filled her ears, bruised her ribs.
He was here. She knew it.
She frantically searched the dark bedroom, her gaze darting back and forth, trying to cover every inch at once. She dipped into the moon’s eerie shadows, double-checking the location of each item. Nothing amiss. Even her suitcase still lay open on the floor, half-unpacked after her arrival from California two days ago. All was quiet.
Except the six-inch scar on her thigh.
It throbbed with pain. Pulsed with fear. Ached with ugly reminders.
But the room was silent. The house was still.
Relax, Kim. It’s another nightmare. Nothing in the room had moved since she’d gone to bed. See? She was imagining things.
It was nothing but a dream.
Or, rather, a nightmare.
Kim pushed her hair off her face, her fingers twisting in the wet strands, damp from the humidity and the fear. The sweat of terror. Too real. Too often. And now…she was having those dreams almost every night.
The knife.
The blood.
Her
