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Authors: Rachelle McCalla

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BOOK: Survival Instinct
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Scott stepped into the seedy joint he’d seen Abby enter, and looked around, aghast that she’d venture inside such a place. He’d looked her up in the phone book and had Tracie give him a lift to her place so he could try to apologize. They’d pulled up just in time to see her disappear around the corner on foot. Scott had followed at a distance, wondering what she was up to.

He wondered even more now. But when he heard the name Tim Price floating through the smoke as she approached the man in back, Scott decided he could hold back his fears for her safety for a little while longer. He ducked into a booth close enough to the pool table that he could overhear Abby’s conversation with Tim. When Abby glanced up and saw him, Scott lifted a finger to his lips, motioning for her to keep quiet about his presence.

An understanding smile flickered across her face, but she didn’t pause in her conversation. Fortunately it seemed Tim was one of those guys who liked to talk when he was drunk.

“The Coast Guard job is chicken feed.” Tim’s voice warbled. “It keeps him in the know, is all. He’s got clout, that’s why they let him in on the big deals.”

“Like this one?” Abby prompted. Scott watched her try to shoot pool with Tim, but from what he could see, it didn’t appear as though she’d ever held a pool cue before. Tim, however, appeared to be wasted enough not to notice her obvious lack of skill.

“Yeah, some land development deal. Big chunk of property. They just have to take care of the owners, you know, ’cause they didn’t want to sell.”

“Take care of them?” Abby prompted.

“Yeah, you know, get ’em out of the picture so they can
take possession. They’ve got this guy Mitch.
Idiot.
He was supposed to help them, but he’s getting in the way. What he doesn’t know is, they don’t even need him anymore.”

“They don’t?”

“Nope. Got it all taken care of.” Tim chuckled, sounding pleased with himself.

Scott felt his heart sink. What had been taken care of? Was his mother already dead?

“So what about the jewelry?” Abby asked. “Was that just a cover?”

Scott stiffened. Abby’s question had come out of nowhere. He hadn’t heard Tim say anything about jewelry yet. But maybe Abby figured Tim was so out of it he wouldn’t notice.

Her guess seemed to be a good one. Tim just kept right on chuckling.

“The jewelry!” He slapped his knee and gripped his pool stick for support as his laughter bent him double. “That was just too easy. Too easy!” he repeated.

His loud antics drew a glare from the fishermen at the bar. Tim looked up, saw their expressions and sidled closer to Abby. Scott had to strain to hear.

“They’ve been running diamonds through those islands for years. That’s how Trevor got in with them, see. He keeps the Coast Guard out of their way, makes it nice and smooth for them, gets his cut, no questions, right? That’s how they paid this Mitch guy. Diamonds. He uses them to lure this woman, then has her leave the diamonds on the boat. Bingo! They get their diamonds back, got the woman
and
the land
and
the evidence, and nobody’s none the wiser.”

“Wow.” Abby nodded, playing right along. “That’s brilliant.”

“You betcha. And the best part? They ain’t even diamonds.”

“They’re not?”

“Nope. They’re all the same. Syn-thet-ics.” He sounded the word out slowly, as though he might not have been able to spit it out any other way. “Only problem is, now the feds are trying to trace them back here. Trevor’s got to tie up his loose ends. Getting into real estate now, ’cause the gig is up on the diamonds.”

“They need them back?” Abby repeated. “Is that why Trevor wants his ring back?”

“Yup.” Tim nodded. “Yup, yup, yup.” His voice faded. Then his eyes seemed to focus and he looked at Abby as though for the first time. “Oh, Abby.” He shook his head. “Abby, you shouldn’t ought to be here.”

Cold dread slid down Scott’s spine. He needed to get Abby out of there, and fast.

The fisherman at the bar looked antsy, their attention obviously focused on Tim and Abby’s conversation.

“You know, I probably should go. Thanks for the game, Tim,” Abby called. She swept over and grabbed Scott’s hand, whisking him off to the door.

The last thing he heard before the door slammed behind them was Tim’s warbling voice, now frantic, as he shouted, “We can’t let them get away!”

NINE

“R
un!” Abby screamed to Scott as she pulled him by the hand through the mud-and-gravel parking lot. She’d seen coherence hit Tim’s eyes the second he’d realized what he’d told her. Tim had always cared too deeply about what Trevor thought of him. If he thought he’d betrayed his brother’s confidence, who knew what he might do?

Though Abby had been the first one out the door, Scott’s long legs quickly carried him past her. He held tight to her hand, and by the time they reached the edge of the parking lot, he was pulling her.

“Hurry,” he encouraged her in a low voice as the door to The Brick opened behind them.

A quick glance back told Abby that all three men had come out after them. She choked back a scream and scrambled forward over the uneven ground, hardly noticing the thick layer of ice that coated the ground after a night of freezing rain. She feared the men behind her far more than she feared falling down.

The side of the bluff fell away in front of them in a steep track of overgrown sidewalk. Scott paused for a second in front of her, but before she could stop herself, her forward momentum carried her sliding into his back.
He tipped forward unsteadily, threw his weight backward, and their feet shot out from under them on the slick ice. They skidded down the bluff in a tangle of legs and flailing arms.

Abby tried to grab hold of something, to gain some measure of control over her path, but the slick ice coated everything. She wanted to scream, but didn’t dare give away their position to the men who followed them.

The men’s voices carried through the night.

“Where’d they go?”

“Down the hill!”

“I don’t see them.”

“There! On the sidewalk!”

“Not on foot, you idiot. We’ll take the truck. They won’t get far.”

An engine roared to life above them as Abby and Scott continued their out-of-control slide down the steep incline. With an angry bump, Abby’s hip rammed into the side of the curb where a street bisected the slope.

Scott gained his feet and tried to pull her up. “Come on, hurry. They’re right behind us.”

Abby managed to get one knee hooked over the curb before her leg slid sideways and knocked Scott’s feet out from under him. He landed half on top of her, sending them both skidding downward again. She flung her arms out, grasping for a hold as the incline steepened further and they hurtled downward with increasing speed.

“Hold on!” Scott fingers wrapped around hers, and though they continued to shoot down the hillside, he somehow got her tucked between his knees, with his arms wrapped safely around her shoulders, positioned as though they were riding a toboggan. But instead of a solid sled beneath them, the seats
of their jeans shot across the ice, every bump and rut jarring their legs, bruising them as they went.

The sound of an accelerating engine echoed across the bluff above them, and Abby realized just how close their pursuers were. With a jolt, they skidded to a stop at the next curb, and Abby looked up to see the church.

“Hurry.” Scott pitched them forward again, but the ground leveled on the church’s lot, and though they skidded crazily on their hands and knees, they no longer moved forward with any speed. “We’re sitting ducks. We’ve got to get out of here,” Scott hissed at her as he lunged himself off the sidewalk and onto the church lawn.

Abby rolled forward until she reached the grass. Though every blade bore a thick coating of ice, the uneven surface gave her some measure of traction after the smooth slickness of the sidewalk and street. “This way,” she shouted, scrambling sideways across the churchyard.

With a minimum of slipping and sliding, they scuttled past the church to the edge of the steep ravine that cut through the west side of the lot. Abby paused for a second and looked down at the jagged ice-covered rocks. Her tender legs cried out in protest after all the bruises she’d bought with her trip down the bluff. But then headlights flashed in front of them as the truck made the corner at the top of the street.

“Down!” Abby cried, stepping off into the darkness and landing with a skidding thump on her rear. Beside her, Scott descended more or less on his feet. He reached the bottom of the forty-foot ravine and pulled her after him toward the storm drain that ran beneath the street.

“Duck,” he urged as he leaned toward the dark opening.

Abby balked. “No,” she whimpered, blinking at the
blackness. “Anything could be in there. Do you want to wake a hibernating bear?”

“We don’t have a choice,” Scott whispered intently at her ear. He tugged on her arm.

Above them, the truck screeched to a halt and the men’s voices rang through the night.

“Where’d they go?”

“I saw them by the church.”

“Check the ravine!”

Abby realized she had no other choice. She pressed her cheek to Scott’s warm flannel shirt and ducked with him into the darkness.

The space was tight, the metal freezing cold against their backs, the voices above them much too close. At any moment, Abby fully expected a badger to attack them from the darkness, or Tim’s crazed face to appear in the opening before them. She pinched her eyes shut and waited.

Scott’s chest rose and fell beneath her cheek as he sucked in huge silent breaths. She clung to him as though somehow, by just holding him tightly enough, she could ward off everyone who hunted them. Her mind swarmed with fear and prayers as she asked God to make them invisible, to blind the eyes of their pursuers, and shield them from danger.

“I’m not going down there. I’ll break my neck.” A thick Wisconsin brogue echoed off the rocks as the beam of a flashlight bounced through the ravine.

“I don’t see them anyway.”

“So what did they do? I didn’t see what happened.”

“They know things.” Tim’s voice stuttered uncertainly. “They know things they shouldn’t know.”

“You and your conspiracy theories,” the other voice followed. “Here I thought they were some of Sal’s guys.”

“Sal’s guys?” the brogue chided. “Nah. Sal don’t work with girls or pretty boys.”

The voices faded and a moment later, Abby heard truck doors slamming.

Though her breathing slowed, she still clutched tightly at Scott’s quilted flannel shirt. A shudder chased up and down her spine as she considered how close they’d come to capture. She sucked in a trembling breath.

“What was that, Abby?” Scott’s lips skirted her hairline as he whispered close to her ear. “What were you doing up there?”

She twitched a tiny shrug. “I could see the wheels turning in Tim’s mind. I knew at any moment he’d realize he shouldn’t be talking to me. I had to ask him. I couldn’t beat around the bush any longer. I had to know.”

Scott’s hands made their way up her back and pressed her tighter against him as he spoke. “But why did you even go into that place? What were you thinking?”

She pulled away from him slightly and tried to look at him, but the darkness inside the drain was too deep for her to see anything but the tiniest glint off his eyes. “I thought we needed answers. And we got some.”

“But at what cost?” Scott pressed.

“We know what they’re after now, don’t we?”

“They’re after
us.

“They want the rings. And the land.” Abby closed her eyes and rested her head against Scott’s strong shoulder. She felt so tired and sore. “Did you hear what Tim said? They’ve been smuggling in fake diamonds and passing them off as the real thing for years. Only now someone’s figured out what they’ve got, and they have to cover their tracks. That’s why Trevor wants his ring back—because if
the authorities knew where it came from, it would lead them straight to him.”

“And you could do the same thing, Abby.”

“Do what?”

“Lead the authorities to Trevor.”

Abby swallowed. “I will. I don’t owe him anything. I’ll tell Tracie everything I know. I’ve got the ring in my pocket right now. She can have it. It’s evidence.”

Scott shook his head slowly behind her. “If Trevor finds out you know what you have, he’ll come after you. He killed Mitch, he’ll kill you.”

“He doesn’t know I know.”

“Tim may have been drunk, but he could still remember what he told you.”

“Yeah, but he won’t tell his brother that he ratted him out. Tim
adores
Trevor. He’d never expose his own failure to him.”

“He adored his brother five years ago, you mean. You don’t know that’s still the case.”

Abby sucked in her breath through her teeth. Scott had a good point. “It doesn’t matter,” she protested. “Tim won’t tell Trevor. He’s not that stupid.”

“Isn’t he?” Scott’s arms tightened around her. “Abby, you can’t go home. It’s not safe. We’ve got to get you out of here.”

Abby pulled back and looked him full in the face in spite of the darkness that cloaked his features in blackness. “We’ve got to find your mother, you mean.”

“Not
we,
” Scott corrected. “
I
have to find my mother. You need to get out of here. It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s too dangerous for me, but not for you?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

Scott didn’t answer.

Abby pushed herself out of the storm drain and stood. “This is ridiculous. Fine. You want me out of here? I’m out of here.”

“Wait.” Scott crawled out after her. “Abby, be sensible.”

She turned to face him and hissed in a half-shouting whisper, “I
am
being sensible. It’s the middle of the night. Tim’s too drunk to make it back to the bar by himself, let alone find his brother and rat me out. If Trevor wanted to come after me he’s had plenty of time to do it, but I still have his ring and until he gets it back, I don’t think he dares do anything to hurt me. So I’m going home and going to bed, since obviously you don’t want or need my help.” She tried to stalk off, but between the rough-cut rocks and the ice, she didn’t make it very far.

“At least let me walk you home,” Scott insisted, placing a steadying hand at her back.

“Fine.” She wiped a tear away quickly before he could see. And then she let him walk her home in silence. She didn’t trust her voice to speak, though she wanted terribly to ask him why he could offer help to her but wouldn’t allow her to help him.

 

Scott felt strange sleeping in the room his mother and stepfather had reserved at the Seagull Bay Motel, but since it was the only room he could get in the wee hours of the morning, he lay down on the bed that smelled of his mother and begged God to let him see her again. After the rough way he’d left Abby, his mother was the only person he had left in the world. He couldn’t allow himself to lose her, though at the same time, he knew he had to prepare his heart for that very real possibility.

Mitch was dead. The very thought sickened him, especially when he considered the possibility that Mitch may have been the last link he had to his mother’s whereabouts. For having never liked the man, Scott still felt remorseful that he’d died, and betrayed that the man had been in cahoots with the diamond smugglers all along. He couldn’t imagine how his mother would respond. He prayed he’d have the opportunity to tell her.

His body ached. Several bruises were rising up from his trip down the bluff and the tumble over the brownstone ledge, and his arms and shoulders cried out in pain from the exertion of rowing the canoe. The day had been long, and morning was only a few hours away.

But he couldn’t sleep. His mind continued to turn over scenes—seeing Mitch through the cold tinted windows of the sheriff’s patrol car, seeing his mother for the last time as she’d stood on the pier waving goodbye to him as he set off for Rocky Island. And Abby.

The problem was, Abby was right. The only reason he didn’t want her helping was because he was afraid she’d get hurt. But he was just as likely to get hurt without her help, quite possibly more so. He already owed her his life at least twice over. She’d rescued him from Devil’s Island, and alerted him to the problem with his brakes before it had caused an accident.

Through it all she’d been sweet, even funny at times, courageous, creative, strong. All qualities he looked for in a woman. And she worked for the Eagle Foundation so he knew that, unlike Mitch, she’d share his vision for conserving the land he’d inherited. Once again, he felt guilty when he recalled how little he’d told her about the land. After all she’d done, Abby had a right to know the rest of the story.

He’d shortchanged her. He’d done what he’d always done, fallen into the same pattern his fellow Christian counselors at the office always pointed out when he broke up with a girlfriend. He’d refused to allow himself to be vulnerable. He’d refused to let her help him. When he’d felt himself drawing close to her, he’d held back. Worst of all, when he’d felt himself falling for her, he’d pushed her away.

Though he loved his job as a counselor and lived for helping others, Scott resented the way his knowledge of human nature gave him insights into his own behavior. Because he knew what he was doing was wrong. He could have been happily married years ago if he hadn’t worked so hard to chase caring women like Abby out of his life. But this time the stakes were much higher. Abby wasn’t just a sweet girl like the other women he’d dated.

Abby was someone very special. He’d been attracted to her back in college, and he’d never quite forgotten her. She’d openly expressed her feelings, opinions and faith through the poems she’d written for the class they shared, and Scott had always respected and admired her convictions. Through God’s grace, she was back in his life again. Miracles like that didn’t happen every day.

But instead of thanking God for bringing her back into his life, he was pushing Abby away. Though he’d told himself he was only concerned for her safety, deep down, he knew there was more to it. He didn’t want to see her get hurt, but he didn’t want to be hurt by her, either. Losing his grandparents and his father had hurt him. Losing Abby just when he’d found her again was a blow he didn’t know if he’d be strong enough to take.

He was left with a choice he didn’t want to have to make. He could move back into his comfort zone and push her
away. It was what he’d always done, retreating to the comfort of God, who he knew would never forsake him, whenever a friend moved away or a loved one died—especially when his grandparents and his father had passed away. Or he could take the greater risk and allow Abby into his heart.

BOOK: Survival Instinct
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