Deception and danger lay in wait in the beautiful, harrowing California backcountry in this gripping suspense novel from #1 <New York Times <bestselling author Christine Feehan.

Surgical and trauma nurse Harlow Frye loves the small town of Knightly, where breathtaking views of the Sierra and a tight circle of female friends provides a refuge from her professional life. But lately, it&rsquo;s Harlow&rsquo;s personal life that&rsquo;s causing all the chaos.

First, a series of anonymous threatening letters are left in her mailbox. Then, Harlow is dealt a blow when her friend Lawyer dies after reacting to some sort of toxin. And to top it off, Harlow finds her secret obsession, CIA operative Hawkin Wilder, bleeding out on a mountain trail.

As Harlow turns her home into a makeshift hospital, her infuriating, attractive patient insists on distracting her. But even in the face of their increasing connection, there&rsquo;s no way Harlow can ignore the escalating storm, when someone else close to her is struck down by the mysterious toxin.

With little more than intuition to go on, Harlow turns to the five friends who have proved themselves to be a better family than her own flesh and blood. As the women attempt to unravel the killings, they will need to rely on their instincts and their connection to each other&mdash;or else they&rsquo;ll lose everything they&rsquo;ve come to hold dear.

Autorentext

Christine Feehan is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of many novels, including the Carpathian series, the GhostWalker series, the Leopard series, the Torpedo Ink series, the Shadow Riders series, and stand-alone romantic suspense novels.

Leseprobe
Chapter One

Harlow Frye curled up in her favorite swing chair on her front porch. She'd purchased the property for just these moments, when her day had gone to absolute hell and she needed to find balance and serenity again.

From her porch she had a view of the Sierra with all its majesty, one of the best she could have without going backpacking or hiking. She'd been lucky to find her own little piece of paradise. She really needed the peace this evening for a number of reasons.

She bought the house for the studio and the amazing wraparound porch with the extraordinary views of the majestic mountains. The inside of the house had needed to be renovated, but she'd taken her time and modernized, upgrading each room to her satisfaction. Her home was her sanctuary, and she treated it that way.

She had the eye of an artist. A photographer. She was a little on the obsessive-compulsive side when it came to her home. If she was honest, she was that way with just about everything. It made her a good surgical and trauma nurse. It also made her an excellent photographer and potter.

On two sides of her property, her house was surrounded by woods. Aspens, pine, oak and fir made up her mini forest. She owned twenty acres, and a good fifteen of those acres were forest. Almost daily, she walked in those woods. Her trusty little beagle, Misha, loved the walks in the forest. Other than running along the canal, it was her canine family member's favorite thing to do. Harlow tended to run along the canal every day. She had her own private workout room and spent a couple of hours not only stretching and doing strength training, but kickboxing. As an exercise, it was really quite invigorating, along with being useful.

Most evenings, her porch swing was her favorite place to be. She would scrub her face, pull her flaming red hair into the classic messy knot on top of her head, put on her most comfortable leggings and whatever top the weather required. She had a tendency to curl her long legs under her and sip at a glass of white wine, often reading a book. The last few days at work had been particularly grueling, and she just wanted to enjoy the peace of home and the beauty of the distant mountains.

Harlow often took extra shifts in the ER. Their hospital had a trauma unit thanks to the incredible fundraising Zahra Metcalf did on the hospital's behalf. Vienna Mortenson also donated a tremendous amount of money from her gambling wins. Oftentimes, whatever Vienna donated, Giselle Gentry, a woman belonging to one of the founding families of Knightly, had matched.

Their community was tight-knit and very supportive of their hospital. Thanks to them, the hospital could offer doctors, nurses and staff a good wage. Because they could, they were able to attract excellent personnel for their hospital, consequently making it one of the best and busiest in several counties, although small.

The day had been horrendous at work. Harlow had lost a good friend, a man she respected. Lawyer Collins had been one of the first people she'd met when she moved to Knightly. He'd set up her security system around her property. He'd always been easygoing and friendly. He'd even asked her out a couple of times, but Harlow preferred not to date, especially someone she had made friends with . . . and she genuinely liked Lawyer, which couldn't be said of most men she'd met.

The worst part of his death was that the doctors couldn't find the cause. He'd seemed to have had a reaction to something, an insect or plant. Something toxic for certain. There was talk about bringing in infectious disease experts. Every spare minute she had, she had sat by his side, whispering encouragement, sponging the sweat from his body, doing everything she could to keep him comfortable, but early that morning, he had succumbed to the terrible unknown pathogen.

The leaves were beginning to turn color, creating a magnificent photograph in her mind. Spring was giving way to summer, but slowly, as if unveiling a lush landscape painted by a master. Spring had brought unusual amounts of rain, turning every meadow into a riot of color. The wildflowers grew in abundance on every conceivable ground surface. Even now, in late spring, flowers were everywhere, their colors adding to the striking shades of green from the trees and brush.

Looking at the beauty that always brought her peace should have settled the churning in her stomach, the knots that refused to go away. Or the ominous feeling she couldn't rid herself of. A storm was brewing; it might be in the distance, but it was coming toward Knightly-or maybe it was already here. She couldn't shake the feeling that the peace they'd had throughout this last year was about to be shattered.

The year before, one of her best friends, Shabina Ashcroft, originally Foster, had been set up to take the fall for a series of murders. Worse, she had been slowly maneuvered into a severe PTSD episode that nearly took her life. Thankfully, Rainier Ashcroft had arrived on the scene, and no one ever went against Rainier and survived intact. He had worked for the Special Activities Division in the CIA for years and now owned a security company made up of men who had also worked in that division. He was a force to be reckoned with, and Harlow loved that Shabina had his protection.

Rainier stayed away from most people, but those he considered family were under that umbrella of protection, just as Shabina was. That meant Shabina's closest friends, Harlow included, were looked after by him. Honestly, that could be a pain in the neck. Rainier tended to be the kind of man who gave orders and expected everyone to follow them-and they did. This last year, as quiet and peaceful as it was, had made that trait in him difficult, but she had to admit, with the ominous feeling growing stronger every day, Harlow was grateful to have him.

As if losing Lawyer wasn't bad enough, Harlow's father, a US senator, had come under suspicion in the disappearance of a very young woman. Harlow hadn't had anything to do with her father in years. He was one of the reasons she had moved to Knightly, to be far from him and the media. Now,…