Ramona Beach, Florida, was a dangerous place to mix business with pleasure. Strangers usually meant trouble, and the local sheriff echoed the town’s sentiments with a blackjack.
Once Ramona Beach had been my home, as a kid – but they’d railroaded me out of town. “Can’t trust trash,” they said. I’d never been back.
But that was then and this was now. Now I’d been sent home by my employer, the Defense department, to locate a particular scientist and bring him back alive. But Ramona Beach had a long memory, and so did I…