Trent Marshall dropped from the overhanging limb of the oak tree onto the manicured grass of the fenced-in estate. He moved silently through the dark toward the lights of the compound, the barrel of the powerful Desert Eagle steadily pointing the way.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think about Darcey Anderson and her executive assistant, Miles Diaz-Douglas. This was the time to focus on the man who threatened their lives. Trent intended to demonstrate it to be in that man’s best interest to assure Darcey and Miles’ safety.

Two hours later, Don Rossi stared in disbelief at the four security guards, lying wounded and bleeding around his pool.

“Let me get this straight. One man did this to you? And then disappeared, taking your weapons with him?”

Moments later, Rossi’s anger was diluted with fear when he read the note Marshall left for him.

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Darcey Anderson crouched in the bushes trying hard to be invisible. She hoped the man in the pickup truck wouldn’t see her but held the small, silver-plated revolver ready as insurance. Two innocent people had already been murdered. She was determined she wouldn’t be the third. How did she get here? It was only a few days ago that she was working in her San Francisco office. When her mother called asking for help, Darcey hadn’t hesitated to fly home to northwest Louisiana. Now she was fighting for her life. Where was her mother? Was she still alive? Where was Trent Marshall? The man Sheriff Jack Blake called the best investigator he ever knew had led the search for a long lost fortune. Finding it would clear Darcey’s family name. But was he still alive? Would he arrive in time to save her from the man circling the parking lot? Darcey clutched the revolver and prayed.

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