Rachelle McCalla - Survival Instinct

Scott felt Abby tense beside him. “But the sea caves are small formations, surrounded by dangerous rocks and open sea,” she protested. “How would they have provided shelter to pirates? You can’t even get a kayak in most of those caves without perfect weather conditions and tremendous skill.”

“Well-” Elda chuckled “-who knows? People tell some tall tales around here. Could be the caves were just a cover story for what really went on.”

“I don’t know,” Burt defended his tale. “My grandfather was part of the crew that worked to bring them to justice. He’s the one who told me about them. A good Christian man, he was. He wouldn’t make up lies. Saw them with his own eyes, he did.”

Elda patted his knee. “That was over a hundred years ago, Burt. It’s hardly something going to help us tonight.” She rose. “And speaking of, it’s eight o’clock, and getting on toward our bedtime. I’ve made up cots in the spare rooms upstairs for you two. You can take your pick when you’re ready, but I’ll warn you, it gets a little chilly up there. You’re welcome to spend as much time as you like down here by the fire. Plenty of wood there.” She nodded toward the rack of split logs in the corner. “Good night.”

Burt followed her up the stairs after promising to let them know the minute he heard any news about Marilyn. Scott couldn’t ask any more of them. “Good night, and thank you.”

Now alone with Abby, he thought about moving to one of the wooden chairs, but the little love seat felt cozy, and he didn’t feel like forcing his tired body to move. Abby’s account of their adventures had provided some distraction from his worrisome thoughts, but now that she sat silently next to him, his concerns for his mother resurfaced. Rather than stew helplessly, he decided to ask Abby the question that had been haunting him all evening.

“So, I’ve told you all my sorry family history,” he began, turning to face her. “But I don’t even know why you came out to Devil’s Island this morning. Why are you here?”

Abby’s eyes darted around the room as though looking for escape. He’d seen his counseling clients wear the same look when he’d asked them questions that got to the heart of their issues, so he knew he was on to something with Abby. Her reaction fed his suspicion that she was hiding something. “I used to work there years ago,” she said with practiced nonchalance, as though that explained everything.

“But why now? Why today, with the tourist season basically over and the weather uncertain? It wasn’t just a whim, was it?” He kept his tone noncommittal, but watched her face carefully. If his past could hold clues to their situation, perhaps hers could as well.

“I-” she started.

Abby was going to say she didn’t want to talk about it. Scott had worked with enough people in denial of their issues to know not to let her get those words out of her mouth. He cut her off. “What were you doing on Devil’s Island with a diamond ring in your pocket?”

She fell silent, her face red, and she looked at her hands. There had been a time when such a response would have made him feel guilty for asking, and he’d have backpedaled to let her save face. But he’d made too many breakthroughs by pushing his clients past their areas of discomfort. And in Abby’s case, whatever was bothering her might be a clue to what had happened on the island. It might even help him find his mother. He wasn’t going to let her clam up just because she felt embarrassed. Besides, she’d already pushed him on his issues, so he figured it was only fair. “Is it an engagement ring?”

She met his eyes just long enough to nod.

“Yours?”

“Yes.”

“Are you engaged, Abby?” Though he prided himself on keeping his emotional distance, now he felt the color creeping up his neck. He’d kissed her in the woods, however briefly. He’d feel terrible if she’d had a fiancé the whole time.

But her quick answer reassured him. “No. Not anymore, not in over five years. And I can assure you it was a mistake to begin with.”

“Then why are you still carrying the ring?”

Abby didn’t protest his right to ask. Perhaps she felt his questions were only fair after the way she’d challenged him on his relationship with his mother and stepfather. “I didn’t. I haven’t.” She looked him full in the face with eyes that seemed to be searching for understanding. “The ring has been buried on Devil’s Island for the past five years.”

“Why?”

“My ex-fiancé and I had a rocky relationship. I’d tried breaking up with him before, but never stuck to it. I buried the ring on the island to keep myself from going back to him-that way I’d have the whole trip back to the island to come to my senses.”

Scott’s brow crinkled. “So why go back to get it now?”

Abby looked down at her hands. When she looked back up at him, fear haunted her eyes. “My ex-fiancé is back in town. Lately I’ve felt as though someone was watching me. I don’t know how to explain it, just a funny sensation. I never saw anyone. But then last night, he showed up outside my house when I came home. He’d been waiting for me. He told me to give him the ring back, or else.”

“Or else what?” Scott watched her intently as she spoke. A part of him found her story incredible. It didn’t stand to reason that a guy who’d walked away half a decade before would suddenly come back for a small piece of jewelry. Scott wasn’t sure how valuable the ring might be; in the short time he’d held it, he’d noticed the gem was large and brilliant, but given the abundance of jewelry his mother wore, he wasn’t easily impressed by one ring.

Abby raised her left hand and held it out for his inspection. At first Scott only noticed the blisters on her palms from rowing the canoe across the lake. But when she pointed to the base of her ring finger, he realized she sported a deep purple bruise. “I don’t know.” Her voice trembled slightly. “He bent back my finger and told me he’d make sure I never wore a ring again. Now whether that means he was going to cut off my finger, or-” her voice caught “-or something worse, I don’t know.”

“Something worse?” Scott repeated. He could feel the chill of the threat seeping into his own bones. “So if you give him back the ring, do you think he’ll leave you alone after that?”

“I-I don’t know.” Abby’s eyes widened again. “I guess I hadn’t thought beyond that.”

Scott closed his eyes and tried to think. So much had happened in the past ten hours. They had every reason to believe they’d been left to die on Devil’s Island-and now this bizarre threat came from seemingly out of nowhere. Could the two possibly be connected? Perhaps his family’s land had nothing to do with it. Abby may have been the intended target all along. “When were you planning to return the ring?”

“He said he wanted it back by tomorrow night. He didn’t say where or how. I guess I figured he’d find me, just like he did last night.”

Scott let out a long slow breath. This guy could be planning to get rid of Abby once he had what he wanted. Scott wasn’t sure what shook him most-the idea of what her ex-fiancé might be planning, or the realization that he felt an overwhelming need to protect her. “Don’t let yourself be alone with him,” Scott cautioned her.

Abby’s eyes widened. “Do you think he would still try to hurt me, even once I give him the ring back?”

“I don’t know.” Scott reached for her hand and studied the ugly purple bruise. Then he covered her hand with his protectively. “I don’t know what’s going on, but somebody’s out to kill us, and you were just threatened last night. Once this guy has his ring, he won’t need you anymore. What’s to stop him-” Scott paused when he heard footsteps headed their way down the hall. They both looked to the entryway.