The Golden Harbor
Elias Thorne’s hand shook as he tried to unlock the heavy oak door of the station house, the brass key cold and slick in his palm. He was forty-two, a sergeant with the State Police, and he had driven six hours through fog that clung to the windshield like wet wool to arrest the man inside. The town of Blackwood was a place of damp stone and silence, a community that had not changed since the...
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