Rachelle McCalla - Survival Instinct

As Abby closed her eyes and tried to remember the long-suppressed details, their radios buzzed.

“Uh, Tracie? Mack here.”

Tracie responded to Mack, and he continued.

“We found the spot, and I’ll grant you, maybe the water does look a little reddish down there, but we can’t see a body anywhere.”

John’s voice carried over the radio. “And Trevor was a big guy, so it’s not like he’d be easy to hide.”

Tracie rolled her eyes. “The waves probably washed him under the rim of the bluffs or into a sea cave or something. We’ll check it out when we get over there with the boat.”

“Fine. You want us to stick around?”

“No. Search and Rescue takes precedence over body retrieval. Just keep your eyes open for that gunman, and let me know if you come across anything suspicious.”

The guys signaled that they’d received her message.

Abby took a deep breath. “Maybe we should just hurry to the boat. I can tell my story another time.”

“No.” Tracie shook her head. “Your story is important. We’ll hurry to the boat, but please keep talking.”

They trotted a few more yards and Abby continued. “So, where was I? I went walking down the trail, but when I got to the sea cliffs Trevor wasn’t there. I figured I must have missed him. Then I thought I heard voices.”

“You thought you heard voices?” Tracie clarified.

“It wasn’t very loud, nothing distinct. And obviously it wasn’t voices unless Trevor was talking to himself, because I stumbled upon that little rabbit run and followed it until I found him. He was alone.”

Abby focused on her feet as they hurried down the road, avoiding any slick patches on the frozen clay. “He didn’t really look all that happy to see me, at first glance. It was funny, because my initial impression was that I’d interrupted him or something. He sometimes had a temper, so you never wanted to make him mad. But maybe I just got there before he was quite ready, or something. I started to ask him who he was talking to and the next thing I knew, he ran over to me, picked me up and gave me this big kiss. He swung me around in circles, and when he set me down, he pulled a diamond ring out of his pocket and proposed. Right there, just like that.”

They hustled down the road in silence for a few moments. Then Scott asked, “So, do you think he was planning on proposing to you right then? He had the ring and everything, but that’s strange that he didn’t ask you to come out and meet him.”

“You know,” Abby confessed, “I always thought it was a little odd. We hadn’t even been getting along very well at that point. We weren’t even technically dating, but he’d called me up and invited himself over for supper.”

“That sounds like Trevor,” Tracie chimed in.

Abby almost smiled as she continued. “And, well, it might sound silly, but I never felt the ring was the right choice for me.”

“Why not?” Scott asked.

“I’d always said I wanted my engagement ring to match my eyes. That’s foolish, I suppose, but I know I’d told Trevor that before. It seemed strange that he’d disregard it, like he either didn’t remember or didn’t care. I guess I just…” Abby paused. She wasn’t sure she wanted to share the next bit. “I felt it was odd, the whole proposal thing. It came out of the blue, and there was a moment, right after I told him yes, when Trevor looked almost…annoyed.” She shook her head. “But then, I suppose, if he was already working for the diamond smugglers…”

They’d come out of the woods while Abby spoke, and now Tracie patted her shoulder. “Thank you for sharing that. It does seem odd, and it makes me wonder if there wasn’t more going on than we understand. We’ll talk about it, but right now, let’s get on the boat and hurry around to the other side of the island.”

The three of them hopped back into the utility boat and Tracie rushed to start the engine. Then she turned to Scott and Abby. “If we’re going to use the kayaks in this weather, you two need wet suits, neoprene and Gore-Tex. There should be plenty of waterproof garments in the bags we loaded. Scott, can you help Abby find something that fits?”

After they rustled up the proper cold-weather gear, Scott and Abby ducked into separate rooms in the boat’s small cabin. Then Scott took over the wheel while Tracie changed. By the time the boat reached the northern tip of the island, the three of them were snugly dressed for cold-weather kayaking.

Tracie idled the motor, slowly trolling closer to the land and the few rocky outcroppings that extended beyond the sea caves. “I don’t see any sign of Trevor,” she murmured, her eyes scanning the rocky formations.

“There’s the lighthouse.” Scott pointed. “We’d gone about two hundred yards southwest, so that puts us right about here.” He gestured to a spot just beyond them.

Once Tracie killed the motor, the lapping of the relatively still waters did little to disturb the eerie silence. Abby stared at the sea caves, wondering how a boat of any size, much less a pirate ship, could have fit into any of them. The rocks were dangerous for any craft, especially in rough weather. Then she noticed a particularly large opening, and beside it, like lamb’s blood on a lintel, a splash of red.

“Look at that, just beyond that large cave mouth.” Abby indicated the spot. “Is that what I think it is?”

Tracie pulled out a camera and zoomed in on the spot. “Blood.” She snapped several photos.

“Trevor’s blood?” Scott asked aloud.

“Probably.” Tracie took a deep breath and put away her camera. “But if so, then he wasn’t standing on that ledge up there when he was shot. He would have been standing there.” She pointed to a low rocky outcropping that extended back toward the wide opening and the fresh bloodstain. “And he would have been shot from this direction, which would have meant a boat, at sea.” Skepticism showed on her face. “You didn’t see a boat?”

Abby’s mouth fell open, and she looked around her at the open sea. There was no sign of any vessel anywhere.

“No, I didn’t. I mean, I was pretty distracted by the dead body, but I can’t imagine missing seeing something as big as a boat. But then, you reached the ledge barely a minute later. Did you see anything?”

The skeptical expression fled from Tracie’s features. “No, I didn’t. Good point. Maybe it wasn’t a boat. Maybe it was just a kayak, and they slipped away into the caves.”

At the mention of the sea caves, all three of them peered at the wide dark opening, whose inky blackness could have concealed anyone, or anything…including the gunman. Abby felt a shiver run up her spine, and she had to fight off the instinct to duck. She nearly jumped when Scott wrapped one arm around her.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, obviously having felt her jolt of surprise. “It’s just me.”

While they stood blinking in incomprehension at the empty water, Tracie shoved supplies into the pockets of her parka, snapped on neoprene gloves and then grabbed a kayak and carried it to the edge of the boat. “I’m going to get a sample of that blood. Then I’m going into the cave. Are you two coming with me?”

Abby nodded. There was something in that cave. There had to be. Marilyn could be in there. Or Trevor’s body. Or the gunman, waiting for them.

Though Scott had no experience launching kayaks, with Abby’s help they managed to get their vessels into the lake without taking on water. At Tracie’s instruction, they anchored the utility boat before slipping into their kayaks. By that time, Tracie had collected a sample from the blood on the brownstone and was ready to join them exploring the sea caves.