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Skeletons Too Close To Home
Linda Lattimer
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Skeletons from the past surface when lawyer Michele Martin sets a killer free after evidence proves him innocent. Now people in town are turning up dead. But is he really the killer or is someone framing him?

The pain was intolerable. Nothing wanted to work. Had she broken something? Could she even drive if she was able to get in the car? A fine mist of rain had begun falling. With every breath Michele had in her body, she pulled and strained to get to her knees. A hand reached out to her shoulders and pulled her up.

Panic enveloped her body. She began kicking her legs, swinging her arms, and fist, striking the person behind her. If she had to scratch this intruder’s eyes out, that would be possible. No way would she be the next victim on his list. Another quick kicking stab to the intruder’s leg.

“Ms. Martin, it’s Sheriff Carter. I’m trying to help you. Just stop hitting me and let me help you.” His voice sounded over the wind.

She jerked away prompting another fall. “Don’t you touch me. Just don’t touch me!” She screamed at him.

“I was only trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help. And above all, I don’t want it! How did you know I was here? You could have been the one that locked me in the attic and started the fire. What are you doing here?” Her words were fast and sharp.

Her body trembled with anxiety. A mixture of sweat and raindrops fell from her face. A considerable amount of pain was running throughout her body. Blood was pouring from her cut hand. Even her bandaged hand was aching considerably. Her heart pounded profusely. All she could think about was at any moment her life would be total blackness. And she didn’t know who to trust in the town of Lincoln.

“The reason I’m here. The Wilsons have an alarm that goes off if someone doesn’t hit the code button when the door is left open for more than five minutes. A buzzer goes off at the police station. Will happened to hear it and patched through on the radio. I responded to the call. I saw the fire and called the fire department. There they are now, in case you don’t believe me.”

She heard the siren and turned to see the fire truck entering the driveway.

Sheriff Carter rested his hands on his hips, eyeing another torn shirt and this time ripped jeans, instead of a skirt. “I could ask your reason for being here,” He remarked as the wind began to whip up once more. “Seems like if you continue having this kind of trouble, you’re going to need another wardrobe.”

She casually noticed her torn clothes then eyed him, glaring intently at his face. After everything she had gone through could she really trust this sheriff? At this point she had no choice.

“There was a note in my mail.”

“A note addressed to you?”

“No, Mr. Weldon. It told him to come alone to the Wilson’s cabin. There would be information about Roy and Janet Wilson’s murder. The message stressed to come alone. No cops, no one, and especially, not you nor I. Mr. Weldon had to go into Riley to check out a job. I decided to check it out.”

“So you took it upon yourself to check it out. You could have at least informed me, instead of taking on the task alone. I could have told you it was no doubt a trap. Did you see the person who locked you up?”

“No. By the time I got upstairs, the lights went out. He knocked me over and ran out bolting the door behind him.”

“How do you know it was a man?”

“His features, when he knocked me down, didn’t feel like that of a woman’s.”

“What happened then?”

“I managed to break a section of the window. That’s when I really began smelling smoke. The window had been sealed shut. In shuffling in the dark, I found a pole lamp to break it out.”

She looked at her sore hand that again was swelling through the bandage. Blood was oozing from her good hand. More light drizzle of rain started falling down sprinkling on her face.

“You’re hurt.”

“My hand got hung on a jagged piece of glass when I climbed out on the ledge. That’s when I tumbled to the ground and started crawling away from the house. You know the rest. It was either take a tumble or get burned to a crisp.”

Linda Lattimer lives in southern Georgia, not to far from Ft. Benning. She has always had a passion for writing. Growing up, reading was a part of her life. It led her to composing some of her own stories. She enjoys traveling, especially visiting the West, particularly areas in southern and northern Arizona. Her frequent location to travel and stay has been at Raymond Gary State Park, in Ft. Towson, Oklahoma. The beauty of the lake is tranquil and allows her to do some fishing, while coming up with great stories ideas. Every place she visits, lends her great inspiration for her stories. She is glad to have another book with Wings e-Press to be published. An avid reader of just about anything, she also reviews books. In her spare time, she likes to go fishing in the Chattahoochee River. They have good size catfish; just have to watch out for the alligators.

This is her fifth book with Wings, and she is absolutely delighted. She loves when readers drop in at her website and send her an email: Lynda1L@yahoo.com, or LyndaLLattimer@aol.com http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/OurAuthors/LindaLLattimer/AboutMe.html or visit her at myspace, www.myspace.com/lindallattimer

Fiction Books :: Romance Books :: Suspense Books

ISBN: 1597059420
ISBN(13-digit): 9781597059428
Copyright: 2008
Book Publisher: Wings ePress
Binding: Perfect
No. of Pages: 286
Paper Weight (lb): 12.0

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Michaeline Della Fera Catherine Stang Savannah Micha

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