Beneath the serene facade of Whidbey Island, danger silently weaves its way through the community. Deputy Sheriff Roger Wilkie thought he'd seen it all, but when the sinister leader of a polygamist religious sect and his ruthless enforcer unleash chaos, Roger is thrust into a deadly game of cat and mouse. Wilkie knows the chilling truth, but capturing these elusive and cunning killers is an almost insurmountable challenge. With the help of the island's colorful residents-including a physically intimidating former inmate who always seems to be in the thick of things-and two German Shepherds with uncanny detection skills, Wilkie navigates a world of tongue-in-cheek dialogue and razor-sharp sarcasm. This pulse-pounding thriller will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very last page.
My name is Roger Wilkie. Whidbey Island, my home for less than eight years, is a peculiar landmass at the north end of Puget Sound. It's a place where half the residents proudly display a decal of the island's shape on their vehicles, a symbol often misunderstood by mainlanders as a splat from a passing gull. The tranquil landscape, dotted by small farms and ranches on the south end, recalls the countryside depicted in many of the shows aired on Britbox. The U.S. Naval Air Station dominates the north half of the island. Thankfully, my patch on the south end, with a population of around sixteen thousand, has been pleasantly uneventful for almost six months. I'm grateful for this respite, as the strange events of the previous year were enough to last a lifetime for any deputy. We operate out of the Freeland office, where my second-in-command and best friend, Wally Turpin, keeps track of the routine crimes and misdemeanors, freeing me to focus on any significant infractions, should they arise. Bruce Strickland handles the dispatch desk when he can tear himself away from his phone. If not for his volunteer status, I'd ask him to retire.
