Survival Instinct

by Rachelle Mccalla

  “I wish you would have.”

  Her soft words and gentle smile only made Scott feel that much worse for what had happened all those years before. He hated that he’d been a part of Abby’s painful past, even if he’d had innocent intentions at the time. And he hated that he’d let her slip past him all those years ago. He should have followed his heart and asked her out then. It was a mistake he wouldn’t allow himself to repeat. He vowed to ask her out as soon as he had the chance-if he got the chance.

  Abby felt like an idiot. As Scott sat silently beside her, his expression intense, maybe even angry, she realized how absurd it was to allow herself to develop feelings for him, much less hint that she’d be open to a relationship. I wish you would have. She sounded as though she was begging him to date her!

  He probably thought she was one of those angry ex-girlfriends who had nothing better to do than complain about the way the last guy had treated them. She cringed as she recalled the way she’d described Trevor’s behavior. Scott was a counselor. He probably got his fill of vindictive women whining during the week. Complaining about her ex was no way to attract Scott to her-not that she had any business trying to attract him.

  Deep as her feelings already were for him, his poor mother was missing. She needed to focus on the job ahead and keep her mouth shut. Even if Scott liked her, even a tiny bit, he lived in Minnesota-too far away to develop any sort of ongoing relationship. She would do well to remember that.

  “There’s Devil’s Island.” Scott’s words pulled her from her thoughts.

  She looked up and saw the island, its bright fall leaves eradicated by the previous night’s wind, leaving bare skeletal tree branches stabbing morosely at the skyline. Abby hadn’t liked the look of Devil’s Island the day before. Now the sight of it filled her with cold dread, and she began to silently pray all the more fiercely that God would keep Marilyn safe.

  “What’s our plan?” she asked aloud, wondering if Scott and Tracie had discussed the next step while they’d been loading supplies.

  “I’m not sure, but with all the kayaking equipment we loaded, there’s a chance we might be spending some time in the water.”

  “It’s a good day for it,” Abby acknowledged, noting the way their wake cut through the otherwise smooth sea. “Just cold.”

  “Cold isn’t so bad as long as we don’t get wet.”

  Abby stifled a giggle, relieved to know they wouldn’t be risking as much as they had on their canoe trip the day before. “No kidding.”

  As the crew docked the boat, Tracie stepped over to talk to them. “Do you two have any ideas about where we should be looking?”

  “I thought you were the expert on that,” Scott noted.

  Tracie shook her head. “We looked everywhere last night, but it was dark and stormy. There’s a lot we may have missed. Besides, if Marilyn has only recently been returned to the island, we’ll have to recheck everything. I’m sure once all our extra manpower gets here we’ll draw up an organized plan, but for now, you might as well just start searching.”

  “So nobody saw anything last night or this morning?” Abby verified. “Nobody saw any boats arrive?”

  Tracie looked remorseful. “We only left a few guys here during the storm. Visibility was next to nothing. Anybody could have come and gone without being seen.”

  “Then I guess we should just start poking around and see what we can come up with.” While she spoke, Abby zippered the last peanut butter and jelly sandwich into one of her coat pockets. She tucked the trail mix into another, silently praying she wouldn’t encounter any peanut-loving bears on the island.

  “You’ve got your radios,” Tracie confirmed. “You two can split up or stick together, whatever you prefer. Just be sure you contact us immediately if you come across anything suspicious or out of place. We don’t have many leads here, so even the smallest thing is worth looking into.” Tracie concluded by making sure they each knew how to operate the radios. “Any idea where you might be heading?” she asked once she’d finished their radio tutorial.

  Scott turned to Abby. “We never did make it up to the lighthouse yesterday. Why don’t we head that way?”

  “That sounds like as good a spot as any,” Abby agreed.

  “Sounds good. We’ve got men all over the island, with more arriving soon. Just stay in touch,” Tracie reminded them as they disembarked.

  Abby felt strange walking back up the same trail she and Scott had set out on just over twenty-four hours before. So much had happened since then-more than she wanted to think about. Still, the environmentalist in her was interested to hear more about Scott’s plans for conserving his family’s land. “So, how long have you and your mother been planning to put your land into easement?”

  Scott took a deep breath. “We’ve talked about it for a long time. It just took a while to get around to it, especially once Mitch came into the picture. He wanted to develop the land, put in a golf course, a water park, you name it.”

  “A water park?”

  “On the lake.”

  “It has its own lake?”

  “It’s a pretty big property. Mitch talked my mom into carving up a few acres into lots, so there’s a cluster of houses on the north end now, but when he began to move on to the next stage in his development plan, I put my foot down. It was time to put it into easement. That was the plan all along. Before Mitch came along, we’d never used the land for anything other than private hunting, though my grandparents used to harvest maple syrup out there when I was a kid.”

  “Oh, how neat.” Abby had no experience with harvesting maple syrup, but she’d always been intrigued by the idea.

  “I always enjoyed it as a kid,” Scott acknowledged. “That’s been close to twenty years ago, but we spelled out a clause in the easement that would still allow us to run some syrup if we ever wanted to.” He paused and looked around.

  Abby kept her eyes open, too, for any sign of Marilyn, though she doubted they’d find any in such an obvious place as the trail. Her imagination had been captured by Scott’s talk of the conservation easement. She’d worked with many through her job at the Eagle Foundation, and found them to be an ingenious way of protecting natural resources from development while still allowing the original landowners to retain ownership and use of their property. Not only would the land remain protected in perpetuity, but the owners could receive significant tax advantages for their dedication to the public good.

  “I love that you’re putting the land into easement,” Abby encouraged Scott.

  He looked down into her face, his eyes glistening with emotion. “I love that you love it.”

  Abby felt her breath catch, and for a moment she thought he might kiss her again.

  But then he simply cleared his throat and continued. “Anyway, the conservation easement was my grandpa’s idea. He and my dad did a lot of research on it before he died. The land is at the top of the watershed, and the lake provides excellent habitat. Dad always thought it would be a perfect candidate for easement. In fact, he’d actually started the process right before he died. It’s too bad my mom backed off the project once he was gone.”

  “Didn’t she agree with it?”

  “I always thought she liked the idea, but she seemed to be so overwhelmed after my father’s death. I guess she just didn’t have the energy for it.”

  “I suppose not,” Abby said, but her experience with conservation projects told her otherwise. “Still, you’d think she’d want to see it through in his honor.” Her mind spun. “Unless Mitch was holding her back. When did you say he came into the picture?”

  “They didn’t marry until a few months ago, but he’d been wooing her for years. That’s where all her diamonds came from-but then, I guess Tim told you that much.”

  “Wooing her for years,” Abby repeated softly as they passed the keeper’s quarters and continued up the short path toward the lighthouse.

  “You’re right,” Scott agreed, looking her full in the face an
d slowing his pace.

  “About what?”

  “Mitch. The conservation easement. The plot to get my family’s land. Mitch didn’t just recently fall in with these guys. The diamond smugglers have been planning to take our land all along, haven’t they? I should have figured this out before.”

  Instinctively Abby reached for his arm. “It’s okay, Scott. Nobody was openly trying to kill you before. You had no idea anything suspicious was happening. But now that we know, we’ll stop them. They won’t get away with it.” For a moment she looked into his eyes and felt the connection of the shared purpose of their mission.

  Then the sound of gunfire rang through the woods.

  ELEVEN

  Scott covered Abby’s head and all but threw her onto his lap as he crouched low on the muddy trail. Abby trembled in his arms like a frightened animal, and Scott realized how close to the surface her fear really was, though she’d acted courageously through all the trials they’d endured so far. The realization only increased his resolve to protect her. When he heard no further shots being fired, he dared to loosen his grip on her and meet her gaze.

  She looked terrified. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine. It sounded like it was coming from up ahead here.”

  “Maybe it was one of the Coasties,” Abby suggested quickly. “Maybe they found your mother and were taking a shot at her captors.”

  Scott agreed with her theory. “The gunfire came from up this way.” He motioned ahead of them. “Let’s hurry, but stay low. We don’t know for sure whose side they’re on.”

  They ran, crouched down, to the end of the trail at the northern tip of the island. It wasn’t far. The land gave way to open sea in front of them, while the tall white form of the Devil’s Island lighthouse spiraled skyward off to their right. “This is the end of the road,” Scott pronounced.

  Abby stepped off the trail to the left, her face faintly white.

  “Is this where…?” Scott began the question, but felt reluctant to voice anything that might be painful to her.

  “A little farther over here,” Abby explained, quickly making her way sure-footedly through the dense tangle of underbrush on a narrow path so well camouflaged Scott wouldn’t have known it was there if he hadn’t been walking on it.

  They quickly came to a large flat outcropping of brownstone. They looked around the space, but Scott couldn’t see any sign that anyone had been in the spot recently. While he poked around, Abby walked closer to the cliffside and peeked out over the edge. Then her face went white and she screamed.

  Scott joined her, wrapping one secure arm around her waist lest she fall over the edge in her fright. He peered down over her shoulder and immediately saw what had caused her distress.

  A corpse floated facedown in the red-stained water of Lake Superior. Though Scott couldn’t be positive who it was, the large frame, dark hair and Coast Guard uniform reminded him for all the world of Trevor Price.

  Pulling Abby a few more steps backward, Scott pulled out his radio and contacted the others. “We’re out on the north end of the island, about two hundred yards to the west of where the trail ends. There’s a body in the lake.”

  “We heard shots earlier,” a voice crackled back in response.

  “I’m guessing it’s related,” Scott acknowledged.

  “I’m coming toward you right now.” Tracie’s voice transmitted over the radio clearly. “I’ve been headed toward the sound of the gunshots since I heard them. I should be there momentarily.”

  Scott clipped the radio back into his belt and slung both arms around Abby’s shoulders.

  She shook him off. “I’m okay. It just surprised me. I’ve never seen a dead body before-one that wasn’t in a coffin. I mean, before Mitch.”

  Scott winced. He could tell she was trying to be brave, but from her broken sentences and darting eyes he knew she felt extremely shaken. He didn’t want to scare her any further, but at the same time, he felt she needed to know the identity of the victim. “Abby, I don’t know if you recognized-”

  “It’s Trevor,” she said bluntly, and met his eyes. “I may not have spent much time around him in several years, but I still recognize him from the back.”

  Scott pulled her back into his arms and stood close to a large tree. “He may have been standing right on this ledge when he was shot. The shooter could still be in the vicinity,” he explained.

  They heard rustling in the woods.

  Scott could feel Abby tense in his arms. He crouched lower and leaned hard against the tree, shielding Abby with his body, though if it came to a battle between the wind-warped wood and a bullet, he doubted the hemlock would offer them much protection.

  “There you are,” Tracie’s voice called out to them. “And the body?”

  “Over the ledge.” Scott sighed with relief when he recognized the Coastie, though he immediately feared what her reaction might be when she saw her fallen partner. He had no idea how close she’d been to Trevor, but even if they hadn’t been great friends, the sight of her fallen comrade would surely shake her.

  Sure enough, Tracie let out a gasp, then looked at the two of them with wide eyes. “It’s Trevor.”

  Scott nodded. “We thought so.”

  Tracie’s jaw clenched. She pulled out her radio and spat out instructions in a combination of English and various codes. Scott heard her describe the victim-white male, six foot five, bullet wounds in the back-but he noted she never used his name. It was probably best that way. They didn’t know who might be listening in.

  She put her radio away and looked at the two of them. “Let’s get back to the boat. We’re going to need those kayaks to retrieve the body.”

  They hurried back toward the trail in silence. Scott didn’t figure the shooter would stick around, but he didn’t want to do anything to draw attention to himself, either. They hadn’t gone far before they met a team of Coast Guardsmen on the trail.

  Scott recognized them from the evening before-John and Mack, two of the guys who’d stayed the night on the island. They looked a little tired under the eyes, but alert.

  “Headed back?” John asked.

  Tracie nodded. “We’re going to get the boat and bring it around. I don’t know how else to retrieve the body.”

  Mack patted his backpack. “I’ve got rope. We might be able to rappel down and pull it up after us.”

  “I doubt it, but you can try.” Tracie shrugged. “We’ll hurry with the boat.”

  “Sure thing.” John looked warily down the trail. “Any idea if the gunman is still in the area?”

  “We’re still alive,” Tracie pointed out.

  Mack chuckled. “Any clue to the identity of the victim?”

  “It’s Trevor.”

  Mack sobered. “Trevor Price?”

  “But he’s supposed to be on leave after last night’s…incident.” John looked uneasily at Scott, then back to Tracie. “He shouldn’t have even been out here.”

  “Well, he was, and he was in uniform.”

  John shook his head and muttered a few unkind words about the deceased’s lack of judgment.

  Tracie ignored his comments. “We’re going to hurry with that boat.” She repeated instructions on where to find the body and then led Scott and Abby back down the hill.

  The encounter with Mack and John had broken the spell of silence.

  “Well, now we know why we couldn’t find him last night. How did you two discover the body?” Tracie asked as they hustled down the road.

  “I looked out over the edge, and there it was,” Abby answered in a hollow voice.

  Tracie sounded intrigued. “What led you to that spot? I never knew that ledge was there. You must not have wasted much time since we split up. It’s only been a matter of minutes since the shots were fired. Did you see any sign of anyone?”

  “No,” Abby answered.

  “Then how did you know where to look?”

  “We heard the shots fired,” Scott started to
explain.

  Abby put a hand on his arm and mouthed the words, It’s okay. Then she cleared her throat and explained, “About six years ago, I spent the summer stationed out here when I was working for the Park Service. Trevor and I were sort of dating at the time and, well, he proposed to me right there on that ledge.”

  Tracie’s pace slowed until the three of them walked evenly together. “He proposed to you in the same spot where he was shot? That’s a little weird, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” Abby acknowledged, her face pale. “I thought about that already. I wonder if it’s more than a coincidence.”

  “Nothing else that’s happened this weekend has been ‘just a coincidence,’” Scott volunteered. He’d had his own concerns about the unlikely correlation.

  “Was it a favorite spot of his?” Tracie asked. “Did he go there often?”

  “Not to my knowledge. I’d never been to that spot before he proposed to me.”

  Scott reached for Abby’s hand and squeezed it. “Can you tell us about the proposal? How did it happen?”

  Abby let out a shaky breath.

  “Please?” Scott prodded. “I know it can’t be easy thinking about it, especially with Trevor-” He caught himself and cleared his throat. “I know it can’t be easy,” he repeated, “but it might give us a clue. You helped me look back on the painful events of my life, and if it hadn’t been for that, we might still have no idea why my mother was taken. Maybe your memories can help us find her. Please?”

  Abby pinched her eyes shut tightly. She could still see Trevor’s body floating facedown in the cold Gitche-Gumee, could still see the dark red welts in his left shoulder and the blood wafting from them as the waves sloshed over him. She didn’t want to think any more about him. But Scott had an excellent point. And besides, she didn’t want him to think she was still stewing over an old beau.