Chapter 1
1
Time was short.
And Paco was missing.
The storm system of the decade bore down on the Washington coast, and Remi Grant was right in its path on a beach battered by waves during what was projected to be a dramatic king tide.
Oh, she knew better. But...
“Paco! Where are you?” She doubted her shouts could be heard over the breakers lashing the shore, crashing into the rocks.
The expected heavy rain hadn’t started yet, but the wind remained cold, constant, and strong.
Sea stacks dotted the beach, and a rocky outcropping blocked her path as the tide rushed in, rising too quickly for comfort.
The only way around was to wait for the breakers to subside. Another wave crashed against the formation, then slinked back beneath the next one rolling in, building momentum.
Now!
She rushed around the mass of rocks, her efforts slowed by wet sand packed with rocks, barnacles, and shells. Beach Safety 101—never turn your back on the waves. But Remi did just that as she ran toward the bluff while simultaneously watching her steps along the rock-studded beach. Twisting her ankle or falling could be a death sentence.
Behind her, the roar of the sea resounded, filling her with fear. The ocean was closing in on her, and the beach would be gone in minutes.
The Pacific wouldn’t take her today. Not if she had anything to do with it.
She made it to the dry beach—what was left of it—and that’s when she heard the smallest of cries. Given the thunderous waves echoing against the cliff, she was surprised she’d heard anything else. Heavy sea spray doused her, but she expected no less from the approaching ferocious monster.
Heart pounding, she moved along the cliff, searching for the small pooch. He must be frozen in terror. Remi had to find him in time, for both their sakes.
She always expected the unexpected. And while she waited for the unexpected, she planned everything to the last detail. She’d prepared for the storm system of the decade, but she hadn’t expected a guest from Texas to lose their lapdog on a dangerous beach as the storm moved in, eventually bringing mammoth twenty-foot-or-more waves.
“Paco! Come on, boy. Where are you?”
In response, she heard nothing but the angry surf, best enjoyed from a distance during a storm, which was just the setting her lodge on the bluff provided. She couldn’t return without the Yorkshire terrier. Remi shouldn’t be on the beach now—no one should—but here she was, headed north and away from the safety of the lodge.
Where could he be?
He probably would have hunkered as far away from the encroaching Pacific Ocean as he could get. She hurried along the cliff, looking into the crevices and around small piles of rocks and tumbles of driftwood. In this mess, she might never find him.
“Paco! Where are you?” Could he even hear her? If he did, would he trust a stranger with his fate? “Come on, boy...” she mumbled to herself.
Concern for the small creature chased her, but she wouldn’t entertain the strong possibility that he might already have been swept out to sea.
And there...
Huddled in the smallest of alcoves at the base of the cliff face, Paco shivered. Though time was running out, she approached slowly so he wouldn’t feel more threatened. If the dog ran away from her, escaping her efforts, then she wouldn’t have enough time to find and save him.
Salt water rushed toward her, reaching farther with each crashing breaker.
God, help me. I’m out of time.
Crouching, she continued forward, wishing she’d brought a treat. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But let me get us out of this.”
Trembling, cold, and wet, he shrank against the porous bedrock, deeper into the small recess. Then Paco sprang from his hiding place and dashed between her and the rocks, his short legs carrying him faster than she would have thought. Except he was in survival mode, adrenaline fueling his doomed getaway.
But it also fueled Remi, and with everything in her, she reached out for Paco.
But he slipped away. “No!” She raced after him as more salty water rushed toward them. “Paco, come back.” You’re going to die if you don’t!
He slowed, turning back in fear as the tide chased them.
His hesitation gave her the chance she needed. She sprang forward and snatched him, careful not to crush his small body while still maintaining her grip. Barking and biting, he tried to wriggle free, his sharp little teeth sinking into her thumb, but she ignored the pain and held him against her. “I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”
Rushing forward out of the water’s reach, she gently tucked Paco inside her heavy raincoat to keep him warm. The terrier seemed to finally trust her, or he succumbed to exhaustion, but either way, he settled against her inside the coat. His trembling form reminded her of her own predicament.
Their predicament.
Remi pressed her back against the cliff, then raced toward the rocky outcropping that could trap her and block her escape to the staircase up to Cedar Trails Lodge at the top of the bluff. Waves washed back out to the ocean, but she saw now what she’d feared. The tide had already come in, blocking her way to the steps to safety.
So she turned and headed north in search of a place on the cliff where she could find traction and climb higher. Rescue crews would be hard-pressed to reach her in time out here, and she couldn’t afford to wait for help.
Her radio squawked. She fished it out of her pocket. “I got him. I just need a way out.”
“Use Jo’s ladder!” Erika’s voice sounded garbled over the radio.
“Roger that.”
Jo had secured a rope ladder at the end of the campsites in case of an emergency until they could build another set of actual steps, but Remi had never found a need to use it. They’d always been adamant about when the beach was safe and when it was not safe, especially in the winter months, during the storms that people came to the lodge to watch. Today, someone had violated those rules.
Paco squirmed inside her jacket, and she continued to speak to him in soothing tones. The cold wind knocked into her, bringing salty, cold spray along with it as she jogged forward. Polished rocks—large and small—made up most of the beach and were a tripping hazard if she didn’t watch where she stepped. Half jogging, half slow-stepping, she made her way to a patch of wet, gray sand.
She should almost be near where the campsite ended on top of the bluff, and she paused to stare up the cliff face. Jagged edges melded with patches of dirt and bedrock, and at the top, loamy earth and thick evergreens. In places along the coast, the cliffs were as high as a hundred and fifty feet. Here, it was half that. Still...
Tidewater rushed around her ankles, reminding her that time was slipping away, along with her way out of this.
There...
She spotted the marine rope ladder that Jo had secured for the unfortunate scenario of getting trapped by the tide. Her heart jumped with hope.
But to get to the ladder, Remi had to traverse significant piles of driftwood stacked against the cliff. Sighing, she rushed forward, weaving her way around the large, pale tree trunks, some of them massive, which meant she’d have to climb over them. She stepped over one driftwood log after another, slid down between two larger ones, then crawled over the last log.
Once the water started rushing in, she’d have more to worry about than sneaker waves or breakers that could smash her against these rocks. She would be crushed by the driftwood.
She stood at the bottom of the cliff and looked up.
That Jo had assembled a rope ladder to span the distance was impressive, but it didn’t hang low enough for Remi to reach.
She peeked inside her coat. “I’m going to need you to stay still, okay?” He wasn’t going to like it, but she had no choice. She secured him in the inside pocket of her coat, grateful he was small enough, zipped it closed, then tightened the bottom of her jacket. She fastened it completely up to her neck and secured the snap, then pulled her hood tighter—all of this just in case he clawed or chewed his way out of her pocket.
“Hold on, Paco.” She jumped for the rope.
Jumped again.
Then she pulled a small chunk of driftwood over and balanced on it. Just one last jump. She reached with both hands and caught the bottom rung. Then pulled on it and walked along the rocks until she could gain traction with one foot, then the other.
Calisthenics. She’d done her share of them in the past, but clearly, she needed to beef up her exercise routine. Muscles straining, she climbed the ladder, which she realized didn’t have anchor points. Once she got out of this, she and Jo would have a long talk.
“Hang in there. I’m climbing this ladder, Paco, and before you know it, you’ll be safe in your momma’s arms.”
Despite the cold temps and buffeting winds, sweat trickled down the middle of her back. She was halfway there.
We’re going to make it.
The ladder suddenly dropped a few inches. Her heart rate jumped.
Pulse soaring, eyes shut, she held on as the rope swung out and slapped against the bedrock. At least it had held.
Holding on tight, she stared up. What was going on? No time to ponder that question. This thing was slipping for some reason she couldn’t fathom. She gripped the rope. Stepped on another rung, pushing through the fear of falling and breaking her body against the rocks or driftwood.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
Remi looked down.
Mistake. Big mistake.
The tide had come in hard and fast, and seawater rushed against the cliff directly below her. Driftwood shifted and moved with the force of nature. Her heart clamored against her ribs. Remi once again squeezed her eyes shut, the sound of her pounding heart overpowering the waves.
You can do this. Just keep going.
One hand on the rope, she reached for the next rung, but it broke in half, leaving her pawing the air. Her palms slicked as she found the rope again and held on for dear life.
Caught her breath.
Paco whined. She could feel his body quivering in her pocket. “It’s okay, buddy. I’ve got you.”
The words came out breathy.
And you’ve got me, God.
She just had to focus and climb. She’d be up on top soon. Otherwise, she’d be swept away, lost forever.
Like the big hole in her life that left her unsure who she could trust, wary of everyone. And beyond this cliff, once she made it—and she would—she knew that time was running out for her. She could feel it.
But she could only worry about one crisis at a time as she continued climbing the failing ladder. She should be nearing the top. Ten feet.
Eight feet.
Five feet.
Four...
She looked at the last three rungs. Broken. She saw the crack in each of them. They wouldn’t hold her weight. She’d just have to pull from all her past training and climb the rope instead. Hope for the best.
Remi glanced up, focusing on what must be done. She started climbing and realized that the rope had been shredded.
She literally hung by a thread.
Her chest constricted. All the air whooshed out of her.
What am I going to do?
With the next crash of waves, she could have sworn she heard a voice. Had she imagined it? Desperation fooling her mind? But she glanced up again, searching, hoping.
Hands reached for her. A stranger with steel-blue eyes stared down at her.
“Grab my hands now before it’s too late.”
“What...?” Her throat constricted.
“You’re going to die if you don’t take my hands now.”
Images suddenly crashed into her mind, paralyzing her, blinding her, then she was somewhere ... hot, dry ... somewhere else.
A breaker lashed hard against the cliff, bringing her back to the present. The rope thrashed with the impact. The thread broke. Remi reached for his hands and missed. Once again, she pawed the air.
Fear paralyzed her.
I’m going to die!
But the man caught her wrist.
Below her, the rope ladder tumbled down the cliff, leaving her feet dangling.
Now a stranger held her life in his hands.