Chapter 2With its picturesque, quaint name, Cane’s Inlet sure sounded like a pretty place. Deception, though, sometimes accompanied a sunny façade, a fact kept in his head as he remembered his mother’s words. Evil supposedly lived here.
The view coming off the horizon was a far cry from the last one he’d seen when driving over the Paddy Rodgers Memorial Bridge, leaving the mountainous White Pine in his wake. Leaving, too, the For Sale sign stuck into the lawn of the only house he’d ever known. But as much as White Pine was known for its scenery, it was all mountains and valleys, snow and ice for more of the year than most areas in the country. Cane’s Inlet on the other hand lived for the shore, the beach, a seasonal haven that received its economic boon during the too-short summer months.
