Author of the Bill
Bill Parker likes to help his friends when they ask. These requests seem very innocent in the beginning and then he finds that things are not as straightforward as he thought. With the aid of his bright and determined wife, Addie, Parker provides this assistance gladly but discovers that danger has become his constant companion. He is not brilliant, but he is honorable, stubborn, practical, and brave. That's Bill Parker.
The second book, in the Parker series, it exposes a whole new scam of the murderous kind. It takes Parker to Colorado and Arizona tracking a killer, with the final pulse-pounding finish in Grand Isle County in Northern Vermont. Parker's wife, Addie, finds danger is looking at her, too, as she steps in to help her husband.
STILL WATERS SNEAK PEEK:
It’s Always Good to Have Visitors Leave Early
Waiting for time to pass can be the one thing that can try a person’s patience to the point of shattering. As the early-morning light allowed things to become more than just fuzzy blobs of non-color, Parker knew that Kate had to be here very soon. He wondered if she had decided not to come. Or if she had fallen and was unable to continue. Or………, and then Parker heard someone coming up the stream – whistling! It was Kate, stepping from stone to stone, nimbly negotiating the stream edge toward her goal. Parker slithered forward to the edge of the drop, the climbing rope right in front of his body, within easy reach. The early morning light was becoming stronger.
As she came abreast of the killer’s probable
hiding place, Parker tensed, wondering if the killer would step out right then.
There was no movement. Kate continued along toward the
dam. She had stopped whistling, and slowed her walking gait, no doubt looking
for the first spot where she would begin taking pictures. She reached the dam, set her backpack down, and
began to look at one of her cameras, both of which were slung around her neck.
There was no movement anywhere around her. And it was completely quiet, except
for the musical chiming of the running water, spilling over the top of the dam
at the place where the beaver had designed for it to run. And then Parker saw
the first indication of motion downstream. It was a man, carefully stepping out
from his cover and walking quietly to the edge of the stream. Kate had her back
to him while she adjusted her camera for her morning’s work. He was still fifty
feet, or so, from her back, and heading up toward her. She was so engrossed in
her preparations that the man could have probably been whistling, too, thought
Parker, and she still would never have been aware of his presence. And,
suddenly, the early morning sun came out from behind a rim of mountain and threw
a flash of light across the scene. It was so abrupt that Kate looked up,
probably to gauge her position in order to take her first picture with the sun
being the principal subject as it cast a sheen across the still waters.
She turned east, to see this brilliant landscape, and when she did, she saw the man. He was about twenty-five feet downstream from her. He was wearing camouflaged clothing, and a floppy Ranger hat that hid his face. But, Parker knew that Kate, by her reaction, was afraid of this man. Then, the man stood erect, and raised his head, and Kate stumbled back against the dam. The man was wearing a ski mask.
“Don’t try to run, Kate,” said the man in a soft, husky voice. “It won’t do you any good. There’s nobody around here for miles. And I have a job to do, don’t I?” He continued to walk slowly toward her. “You’re the last piece of my puzzle, you know, and then I’m done forever with my plan and all its work.” Kate couldn’t speak. She looked desperately for a chance to run. But there was no chance for her. He’d planned everything perfectly - except for one thing that his arrogance and confidence caused him to ignore. Somebody else knew what he’d been doing. Parker grabbed his rope in his gloved hands and leaped over the edge of the sheer wall of rock and plummeted down toward the dam. “Run, Kate, run!” he shouted, as his boots hit the hard surface of the anchor end of the dam. He almost fell, but desperately gained his balance in a scrabbling effort.