All Through the Night by T. Davis Bunn

By T. Davis Bunn

Modern suspense with a powerful romantic aspect from a best-selling writer with over 6 million books offered.

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North of the community center stood the activities house, the shuffleboard courts, pool, tennis court, and library. None of it was fancy, but all of it was well used. To the south of the center and connected by a covered walk was an interdenominational church. The community had so many retired pastors, the volunteers only preached once each year. Eilene’s Orlando church paid her to help one day each week. Her title was outreach coordinator. Basically she acted as a young pair of hands. The community’s president, Holly Reeves, did her best to stay out of Wayne’s hair.

Foster waved one hand. Wait. He wheezed a couple of times but finally regained control. ” “This is serious business here,” Jerry said. ” Foster wiped his face. “We’re sitting in the middle of the Gulf, a thousand miles from any reasonable explanation, and the nightmare that laid this fellow out is right smack dab at the other end of hello. ” Jerry’s hand scratched over his beard. ” “Big time,” Foster said. ” Wayne looked from one grin to the other, then decided there wasn’t a thing he could do about either.

I need some plastic. ” Whatever Wayne might have been expecting, it wasn’t what he got, which was a massive grin that puckered the uneven crevices of Jerry’s broad face. ” But before the cop could reach into his back pocket and come up with his wallet, a scrawny white hand reached across and offered Wayne a Visa. ” Foster tossed his newspaper aside. ” They met again twenty minutes later. Jerry was dressed in dark shorts and top, no socks, and boat shoes. Foster’s outfit was a bit more original—navy shirt buttoned to his neck, charcoal grey slacks, black socks, and wingtips.

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