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Authors: Rachelle McCalla

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BOOK: Survival Instinct
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At the very thought, he felt the blood pumping fiercely through his veins and he gripped the tangled bedsheets. How could he let Abby get close to him—assuming she’d even condescend to speak to him again after the cold way he’d treated her earlier? What if she rejected him? What if she was killed? Then he’d be more alone than ever before, and with only a broken heart to show for it.

Shaking off those fears, he snapped on the bedside lamp and fumbled about in the nightstand drawer until his fingers found what he wanted. A Bible.

Flipping it open, he quickly found the verses from Ecclesiastes that he’d used so many times in counseling sessions with engaged and married couples.

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work:

If one falls down, his friend can help him up.

But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!

Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.

But how can one keep warm alone?

Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.

The ancient words burned into his mind as he stared at them, speaking to him with the authority of God’s own voice. He was alone, with no one to help him up, no one to warm him, no one at his back to defend him.

The words spoke to him like a promise.
Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.

The longer he stared at the text, the more certain Scott became that he wouldn’t be able to rescue his mother by himself. But with Abby on his side, they could at least hope to keep each other safe. Though the emotional risks involved still intimidated him, he knew his only hope was to be reconciled with Abby, and to ask her—to beg her, if necessary—to help him continue the search.

He rolled over onto his side and clutched the extra bed pillow. “Dear God,” he whispered into the darkness, “I know what I need to do, but I don’t know if I can do it. I need Your help.”

TEN

A
bby filed into her usual pew and flipped absently through the Sunday worship bulletin, her eyes blurring over song titles and announcements, unseeing. Prayer concerns and upcoming events jumbled together, but all she could think about was Scott and his mother.

Poor Marilyn. She was out there somewhere, almost certainly hungry, cold and afraid. Probably hurting. Possibly even dead. Abby wanted more than anything to be out there searching for her, but she knew Scott didn’t want her help. His rejection stung, not only because of her feelings for him, but because she’d believed she could contribute to Marilyn’s rescue. But Scott must not have thought so, or else he would have let her help.

As she’d mulled over Mitch’s words the night before, Abby had concluded that Marilyn’s captors most likely had taken her out to Devil’s Island again, awaiting Mitch’s signal, waiting to kill her. Unless, as they’d clearly threatened Mitch, they’d jumped the gun and disposed of her already. Abby shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the thought.

The people around her stood. It took Abby a moment to realize the worship service had started. Everyone else was singing. She found the words and lent her voice halfheart
edly, praying the whole time that God would be with Marilyn, and that God would be with Scott.

Scott. At the thought of him, her eyes blurred over. No, she wouldn’t cry during worship. She sniffed and returned her attention to the music, refusing to glance to the right or the left.

So it wasn’t until she sat down after the song that she noticed the figure who’d joined her at the end of her pew.

Scott.

The minister was praying, so Abby quickly closed her eyes and focused her heart. She didn’t hear the words that were spoken as much as the cry of her heart. Scott had come to worship? He was sitting by her? Did it mean anything, or was it just a lucky coincidence?

The minister concluded the prayer, then spoke the same words he said every Sunday morning. “Just as through Christ we have been reconciled to God, so let us also be reconciled to one another, and share the peace of Christ.”

Abby stood. This was the part of the service when everyone shook hands with one another as a gesture of reconciliation. They were supposed to say something formal like “peace be with you,” while looking solemn, but more often, the good friends of the church hugged each other and used the time to chat and greet their neighbors.

By the time Abby dared to look his way, Scott had stepped toward her, one hand outstretched. “Peace,” he said softly, his eyes riveted on hers and brimming with meaning.

Though she nearly choked on the word, Abby managed to utter a soft “peace,” as she took his hand. It wasn’t until he pulled her into his embrace that she let a tear escape.

They sat through the service side by side, and Scott kept his hand on hers during the sermon. Abby wanted to
ask why he wasn’t out looking for his mother, but there was no time to talk, and she realized that, pressing as the search might be, they wouldn’t get anywhere without God on their side. Worshipping Him was the most important thing they could do.

After the service, she and Scott ducked out the side door before any of her church friends had a chance to catch up to her. She didn’t know what Scott’s plan was, but she knew if she got to talking with her friends they’d waste valuable time.

When they reached the sidewalk, Scott turned to face her and spoke openly for the first time. “I’m sorry I pushed you away last night.”

The words soothed her like salve on a wound. “It’s okay, Scott. You’ve been under enormous stress. I understand.”

“Still, it was no excuse for me to speak to you the way I did.” Scott took her gloved hands in his. “I appreciate all the help you’ve been. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be stuck on that island, maybe even dead right now.”

Warmth crept up Abby’s cheeks. “I just did what anyone else would do.”

“No.” Scott shook his head. “No one else could have done what you did. God put you on that boat with me for a reason. Abby, you know that island as well as anyone. You’re my best hope for finding my mother alive. I know I have no right to ask this of you, but will you help me continue the search?”

“Of course.” She beamed at him, so grateful that he wanted her help.

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Scott leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.” He met her eyes, his expression infinitely tender. “Thank you so much, Abby. You’ve given me hope.”

Touched by his gesture, it took Abby a moment to find words. “We should probably get moving, then. Do you have a plan for this morning?”

Scott cleared his throat. “I called over to the Coast Guard Station after I left you at your place last night, and told them what we’d learned from Tim. They’re going to call Trevor and hold him until they can look into Tim’s story about the diamond smugglers.”

“Did you tell them about my ring?” She suddenly felt self-conscious about her connection to the smugglers, however innocent her involvement had been.

“There were so many details to discuss, and I didn’t want to get part of your story wrong and send them off in the wrong direction. The ring is yours. It’s up to you to decide when and how you want to tell them about it.”

Though Abby had intended to hand over the ring from the moment she’d discovered its connection to the case, she felt touched by Scott’s thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”

Scott continued. “They also filled me in on what else they’ve learned. Kermit Hendrickson, Mom’s accountant, was able to reach most of my mother’s credit card companies, but none of them have had any activity in the past twenty-four hours. Also, one of the guys who accompanied Mitch back to the mainland remembered him wearing a ring and described it accurately, so we know he didn’t leave his wedding band aboard the
Helene.
Of course, from what you learned from Tim last night, my guess is Trevor took the ring after he shot Mitch, because it was made with the diamonds they’ve been smuggling. And there’s still no sign of his cell phone—no doubt Trevor took that, too—so we have no leads on who he was talking to or where they might be.”

“So where does that leave us?” Abby asked, quickly absorbing all the information Scott had dumped on her.

“I believe our biggest clue to my mom’s whereabouts right now was the conversation you overheard at Greunke’s last night. What’s your impression? Do you think my mom is on the mainland, or back out at Devil’s Island?”

“Devil’s Island,” Abby answered without hesitation. “I don’t know exactly what Mitch intended, but he sounded like he was trying to press them to wait for his signal and they didn’t want to wait. No matter what that signal was supposed to be for, if they haven’t heard from him they almost assuredly would move ahead with their plans by now.” Abby intentionally avoided any mention of what those plans were. She didn’t want to consider the possibility that Marilyn might already be dead.

“Then that’s where we’re going.”

His sure tone surprised her. “So you trust me?”

As Scott looked down at her, his determined expression softened. “You’re all I have left right now. I can’t afford to
not
trust you.” He slung one strong arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

Abby smiled as, in spite of the brisk October wind, Scott’s words warmed her. It wasn’t exactly a profession of love, but it was more than she’d dared to hope for. “Let’s stop by the Coast Guard Station and see if we can catch a boat out.”

They drove the eight blocks to the Coast Guard Station and arrived as Tracie Crandall was carrying a mesh bag of cold-weather kayaking gear to a utility boat.

“I thought your shift was over,” Scott accused.

Letting the bag she carried drop to the ground, Tracie put her hands on her hips. “My partner shot your stepdad last night, and your mother is still missing. You think I
could sleep? Besides, this is shaping up to be a pretty big deal. They’ve called in more help, and they’re asking people to work double shifts.”

“Have you heard anything new since last night?”

Tracie sighed. “Trevor’s missing.”

“Missing?” Abby and Scott repeated simultaneously.

“He’s not at home, he’s not answering any calls. We’ve been completely unable to find him,” Tracie explained.

“So you have no way of corroborating Tim’s story?” Abby asked.

“We know a few things,” Tracie said. “When Trevor brought Mitch in last night, he came alone. Sheriff Jacobsen stayed at the crash site. The sheriff was the initial responding officer, so it was his job to brief the investigation team on what had happened. But what that means is, Trevor was alone with Mitch long enough to take the ring. He also doesn’t have a witness to confirm that Mitch was really attempting to escape when he shot him.”

Though she’d already concluded that Trevor had murdered Mitch, hearing Tracie speak the words out loud made the crime seem even more real. “We’ve got to hurry up and find Marilyn,” Abby breathed.

Scott asked Tracie, “How soon are you headed out to the island?”

“As soon as I can get this equipment loaded.”

“Mind if we head out with you?”

Tracie picked up the mesh bag again and tossed it to him. “Help me load the boat. I’ll make sure we have enough kayaks for the two of you.” Then she looked at the long wool skirt Abby wore. “You might want to change first.”

“We need to pick up a quick lunch, too,” Scott added.

Abby agreed. She still felt hungry from the missed
meals the day before. “How about if I run home, change clothes, grab us some sandwiches and then meet you guys back here?”

“Perfect.”

 

Scott helped Tracie load the rest of the equipment they might need, including extra radios so he and Abby could communicate with the others. Extra Coast Guardsmen had arrived and joined them on the boat. Now, Scott hunkered down next to Abby as they headed out into the cold open sea.

Though the wind had stopped blowing and the sun occasionally peeked through the clouds, the temperature had turned decidedly bitter. Scott was glad for the excuse to sit close to Abby. He had a lot he wanted to tell her, and he was able to keep the conversation that much more private by making it appear as though they were merely cuddling and sharing the sandwiches and trail mix she’d brought.

“I’m sorry I took your mom’s spot on the canoe,” Abby apologized as soon as he sat down.

“What?” The regret in her tone confused him.

“If I hadn’t been on the canoe, your mother would have gone with you to Rocky Island. She’d be safe. I could have stayed on Devil’s and kept an eye on Mitch. He didn’t have any incentive to harm me. I would have been there when the Coast Guard arrived, and your mother wouldn’t be missing. Everything would be fine.”

Her apology tore at his heart, especially after the way he’d spoken to her the night before. “No, Abby, it wouldn’t. First of all, my mother never would have made it to Rocky Island. She’s a pretty hearty gal for her age, but she’s not nearly as strong as you are. Besides, even if we had made it across, if the Coast Guard had rescued us, we never
would have found out about Mitch and his plans to kill us. He just would have found another way. My mother and I would still be in danger, but we wouldn’t even realize it.”

“You think so?” Abby mused reflectively.

“Yeah. I do.” Scott sighed.

“But last night you said—” Abby began.

Scott took her hand as she reached into the bag of trail mix they shared between them. “I know what I said, and I’m sorry. You’ve been a tremendous help, and I never should have pushed you away. I just—” he squeezed her hand a little more firmly “—I was scared. So much happened so quickly, and I had to depend on you…it frightened me. In my experience, if I depend too much on someone, they die.”

Abby’s eyes widened.

“My grandfather was my best friend when I was a teenager. Dad and I didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but Grandpa was always there for me. He kept me grounded. Then when he died, I realized how fragile life is, and I reconciled with my father.” Scott’s voice wavered as he stepped back into that guarded past he’d tried so hard to put behind him.

“And then your father died,” Abby finished softly.

Scott nodded. He was glad she understood. “I know in my head that caring for a person doesn’t make them die. But on a purely instinctual, self-defensive level, I tend to push people away when they get too close. That’s what I was doing with you last night, and it wasn’t fair to you.”

Abby patted the hand that held hers. “It’s okay. I was pretty spooked by everything, too. It’s a lot to take in all at once.”

Her confession made Scott smile. He appreciated that
she was secure enough to comfort him, even after he’d been unfair to her. After dealing with his mother’s insecurities, he found Abby’s strength reassuring, and very attractive. “You saved my life.”

He felt Abby shudder next to him. “I still can’t get over the way Mitch behaved. He was so angry when I overheard him talking on the phone. But I guess more things make sense now—like why he thought you should try swimming to Rocky Island.”

“He knew I’d never make it.”

“Perhaps he even thought he could convince your mom to jump in and save you.”

“He would think that.” Scott scowled at his sandwich. “He was always able to manipulate her far too easily. I’m sure he’s why she was foolish enough to wear her jewelry on the boat—and then to turn around and leave it all with Captain Sal.”

Abby frowned. “It’s all so calculated, so cold. And then to turn around and sabotage your car—I can hardly believe he did that.”

“As far as that goes, you can believe it. Before he married my mother, Mitch was co-owner of a large used-car dealership. He certainly knew his way around cars. And, though I tried not to listen to any of them, I’ve heard rumors about some shady practices related to his dealership. For my mom’s sake, I had hoped they weren’t true. But now that I think about it, I can begin to see the pattern in his personality, some of the things he said over the years…” Scott watched the islands slip by as Tracie steered the boat through their maze toward Devil’s.

BOOK: Survival Instinct
7.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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