Rachelle McCalla - Survival Instinct

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.

“It was the end of the summer tourist season. We were going to lock up the keeper’s quarters in a couple of days. Already traffic to the island had slowed down considerably. Trevor was working for the Park Service, too, then. He was stationed on Rocky, but he came over to visit me quite a bit. One evening he called and said he wanted to come over. I cooked supper, but then he disappeared while I was cleaning up. That wasn’t unusual. He only washed dishes if he was trying to be extra-nice to gain something.”

“That sounds like Trevor,” Tracie chimed in.

Abby managed a faint smile. “I had seen him head up the trail toward the end of the island, so I went walking up that way. It was a beautiful evening, one of those late summer days when it’s not even cold out here. The water was gentle, and it was getting close to sunset.”