Harm Free

HARM FREE KURT HARM THRILLER SERIES BOOK 5 WES ALLEN WES ALLEN GET “THE VILLAGE” (PREQUEL TO “DO NO HARM”) FOR FREE Sign up for the no-spam newsletter and get “The Village” and more exclusive content, all for free. Get Your FREE Copy of “The Village” Copyright © 2023 by Wes Allen All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. 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CONTENTS Get “The Village” (Prequel to “Do No Harm”) for FREE Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Get “The Village” (Prequel to “Do No Harm”) for FREE A Kind Request About Wes Allen 1 The Pacific shimmered in the late-afternoon sunlight. Sarah and I stood on the edge of a worn dock desperately in need of repair. Strong easterly winds blew up through the Catalina port, making the southern California resort chillier than usual. She threw her line into the water one last time. We’d been fishing for the past two hours but didn’t get a bite. That was okay. We were together, and that was enough for us. I looked down at my watch. “Time to reel it in. The boat is leaving in ten minutes.” Sarah stared up at me and flashed a sheepish smile. “One more night. What do you say?” I hugged her tight and whispered in her ear. “I’d love another night in Catalina with you. Shoot, I’d love one more night in a garbage dump as long as we’re together, but Lamai is expecting us back tonight.” She laughed. “Do you really think she would mind spending another night at her best friend’s house?” “You got me there,” I said. It had been one year since I returned from Bangkok with Lamai. Neither Sarah nor I went on foreign assignments in that time. I even stopped doing any domestic contract work for the Agency. I was offered a number of small missions, but I had enough in savings to take the time off and used it to strengthen the bonds of our newly expanded family. Sarah and I decided to do one more night on Catalina Island. We spent most of the early evening walking in and out of the local shops. She bought several knickknacks and a sailing painting from a local merchant. I tried warning her that she’d later regret doing so—she was a compulsive buyer, and most of the stuff she purchased on our trips ended up in the back corner of our garage, collecting dust—but I didn’t really care. As long as it put a smile on her face, I was happy. We capped off our final night on the island at Luau Larry’s, the best place in Avalon for tropical cocktails. Sarah sipped on piña coladas, and I worked on a virgin margarita. I held her hand, and we sat in the bar with a cool evening breeze blowing through the open front door. We were listening to a young man strum his acoustic guitar, covering James Taylor songs. “‘Fire and Rain,’” Sarah yelled playfully. I spoke into her ear. “Honey, I’m pretty sure he didn’t hear you. Too many people.” “Nah, he winked at me when I said it. He’ll be playing it in no time.” Sarah laughed. She often flexed a cute giggle when she’d been drinking. I waited to see if the singer was going to play the song Sarah requested. He didn’t. When I walked back out of the restroom, he'd taken an intermission. He walked past me in the hall on his way to the restroom. I stopped him and smiled. “Wow! You’ve got Taylor down. If I closed my eyes, I would’ve thought it was him.” “Thanks, man. I appreciate that,” he replied. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. “You take requests?” He cocked his head to one side and flashed a wry smile. “Who doesn’t?” I put the cash in his right hand and said, “Please close your set by saying, ‘This song is for a special friend of mine. Here you go, Sarah. You didn’t think I heard ya.’ Then play ‘Fire and Rain.’” The singer raised one eyebrow. “That’s oddly specific, but for fifty, I’ll say what you want.” I walked back to Sarah and held her hand as we sat and listened to the rest of his set. As an encore, he finished his show with the words I paid him to say. Sarah clapped her hands repeatedly, then whispered in my ear, “See, I knew he heard me!” The bar started emptying out around midnight. Sarah snuggled up to me as we strolled around Avalon’s picturesque oceanfront. We stopped under a weeping willow tree, and she looked up at me. “Promise me we’ll never take each other for granted.” I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I promise.” I looked her in