Monday
“CIARA, LOOK, A deer.” Landon pointed to a doe standing at the edge of the broad dirt road.
Ciara screamed and stomped the brake. The little Volkswagen skidded on the unpaved surface, raising a cloud of dust as another deer leaped across their lane to join the one Landon had seen.
An engine roared behind them, and a motorcycle slewed past their bumper. The black-helmeted driver stabilized his ride and slowed to flash a rude gesture before accelerating away. Gravel sprayed from his tires.
Ciara sat chalk-faced, clutching the steering wheel. “I—” Her head swivelled from side to side. Looking for other drivers or other deer? She guided the car to the side of the road. After a couple of ragged breaths, she twisted to focus on the whining Chihuahua in the rear. “Are you okay, buddy?”
He gave a subdued yip.
She turned to Landon, her brown eyes brimming. “I barely saw that second deer. Did not see the bike at all.” Another shuddery breath lifted her chest. “We could have been killed. Are you hurt?”
Shaking her head, Landon eased the seat belt strap away from where the jolt had dug it into her shoulder and slid her fingers down to loosen it across her hips. She’d have bruises tomorrow. Her heart still thudded. “How about you?”
“Just scared.”
A van approached, heading for the main road. Once it passed, Ciara drove toward the park. “I need to make sure Moxie didn’t wet the pad in his booster seat. Poor little guy.”
Landon found herself scanning both sides of the wooded road for deer. Her adrenaline-taut muscles wouldn’t relax until she could stand on her own two feet, sunshine on her skin and fresh air in her nostrils.
Her limited class schedule, all on Tuesdays and Thursdays, gave plenty of buffer against overload. She’d powered through the last of her reading assignments this morning once Zander started for Ontario, and Ciara’s invitation for a day out made the perfect reward.
A blond wooden sign welcomed them to The Ovens Park. Ciara slowed still further and approached the admission gate. Ahead, three motorcycles stood parked among the cars.
“That has to belong to Mr. Road Rage there, the green one with the California plate. I’m glad he didn’t wait around to bawl me out.”
“You didn’t see him. It’s not your fault.”
She chose a spot facing the water, well away from the bikes. “Did he look like he’d agree with you?”
“He was probably scared too.” Landon stepped out of the car, pebbles crunching under her feet.
Crooning to the dog, Ciara unclipped his harness from the car seat and fastened it to his leash. She wrinkled her nose and passed the sparkly teal leash to Landon. “He had a little accident. It happens when he’s scared. This’ll only take a minute.”
The Chihuahua snuffled around Landon’s canvas sneakers as Ciara replaced the cream fleece pad in the pet seat and bundled the soiled one into a plastic bag.
Bag sealed and stuffed in the trunk, Ciara rooted in the glove compartment and produced a scrap of paper and a pen. Using the car roof as a table, she scribbled a note, bracketing the word sorry with sad faces. “I’ll leave this on his bike.”
With the paper wedged in place on the dusty motorcycle, they descended wooden stairs to a rocky beach. A woman in a wide-brimmed canvas hat sat on a low folding camp chair, peering into a tambourine-shaped gold-panning sieve. She paused at their approach. “Beautiful day.”
Ciara kept Moxie away from the woman’s buckets. “Is there still gold around?”
The woman rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “Not enough to get rich on. There’s a flake here and there, but most of us regulars come because we like the sunshine and the sea air.” She laughed. “Besides, if I’m out here, I’m not home doing housework.”
Jagged tree-lined cliffs walled the left side of the crescent-shaped inlet, but straight ahead, the ocean stretched deep blue. This bit of shore felt like a pocket of peace.
The woman added another handful of small rocks and a splash of water, then swished the panning tray side to side in a slow rhythm. “It’s a good pastime.”
They left her to it and let the dog roam the water’s edge, his tiny feet weaving around the larger rocks and broad strands of rusty seaweed. Ciara picked up a stone and tossed it into the shallows. “I know this was mining territory, not smuggling, but gold reminds me of that guy, Gord. Any news yet about who killed him?”
“I haven’t heard. For Meaghan’s sake, I hope they find the shooter soon. She acts like it doesn’t matter, but it has to hurt.”
“Families can be complicated. Hey, you could try to solve the case.”
Jaw clenched, Landon turned toward the horizon so Ciara wouldn’t see her eyes flare. Meaghan’s request had at least been legitimate. She knew Landon and Bobby had discovered her part in Gord’s plot. Ciara’s carefree suggestion said it was all a game to her, like a movie she’d watch and forget. No emotional investment, no danger, maybe a laugh or two along the way. Four people had nearly died. Anna’s husband Murdoch had died, almost a year ago now.
“No more mysteries for me.” Landon tried to keep it light. Today was supposed to be about recreation, not argument.
Ciara shrugged. “I suppose the police have all the ballistics experts and techs like you see on TV.”
With the murder weapon left at the scene, ballistics might not come into play except to confirm it wasn’t a decoy. Landon gave her head a shake. No more mysteries meant not thinking about the details.
The sharp-edged rocks underfoot became bigger as they reached the base of the cliff. Close up, white quartz, likely the source of the gold, veined the rough-cut grey face. Slabs of flat rocks lay at their base. Moxie darted around, poking his nose between the larger rocks, tail waving in a blur.
Landon stood looking up at the clifftop. A thin strip of brown was all the soil available, yet hardy evergreens thrived right up to the edge. In places, they hid the rail fence that marked the hiking trail.
She and Ciara retraced their steps and climbed back to the parking lot. Skirting the cars, they found the start of the trail. Wide enough for two, the dirt path angled upward into the trees, with the ocean on their right. Moxie scampered around Ciara’s feet, trying to investigate everything at once.
Soon they came to an opening in the trees overlooking the strip of beach where they’d walked. Landon stopped and leaned her forearms on the top fence rail, its sturdy wood aged to a smooth grey. The incline hadn’t felt steep, but the gold panner seemed child-sized from here.
Ciara joined her, gazing over the water.
Bright blue in the depths, at the base of the cliffs it was almost tropical green and so shallow they could see the bottom. Puffy white clouds made a perfect scene.
Landon touched her empty pocket. “I left my phone in the car, and I want to take a picture. Could I have the keys?”
“Sure. We might even see another deer.” Ciara unzipped her leather backpack. The metal ring held as many ornaments as keys—a silver ball that jingled when it moved, a spiked rubbery one that might light up, and a broad pink leather strip with her name stamped into it.
Keys in hand, Landon jogged the distance to the Volkswagen and grabbed her phone from the cup holder. She’d just locked the car when a scream split the peace and lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.
Her head whipped around. The high-pitched cry had come from the trail area. Where she’d left Ciara. Shrill, frenzied barks—Moxie.
Landon took off running.
It couldn’t be a coyote or a bear. Not with so many people around. Maybe the little dog slipped over the edge.
She dodged a tree root in the trail. Ciara was enough of a drama queen she could have screamed at an insect sting and scared her dog.
Skidding around the last turn, Landon flung out her arms for balance. Ciara was gone. Moxie stood beneath the fence rail, his tiny body shaking with each bark.
“Ciara?” Landon caught the trailing leash and peered over the cliff.
Her friend lay on her back on a narrow ledge halfway down the steep incline, her knees supported by a scrawny tree that bent out from a crack in the rock. One foot dangled in thin air
A black-clad man clung to the jagged cliff at Ciara’s shoulders, swearing, one hand to her throat.
“Hey!” Landon activated the video on her phone. “Get away from her—now.”
He scowled upward, a shake of his head flipping black hair from his eyes. “Call 9-1-1. She’s unconscious, but I found a pulse. Lousy cell service dropped my call.”
“So move away from her and call again.” She kept recording. Ciara wouldn’t have jumped, and no way could she fall over this waist-high fence.
He glared at her, lips tight. “If I move and she twitches, she’ll be in the water. You think I’m perched here like a crazy pigeon for kicks?”
Steadying himself against the craggy rock face, he thumbed his phone screen. “No service. What kind of pathetic—”
As he shoved the phone into the back pocket of his jeans, Landon cut the video and keyed in the emergency call. She drilled the guy with a stare. “How do I know you didn’t push her? She sure didn’t fall on her own.”
“Brilliant deduction, Lady Detective. Someone did push her—but if it was me, don’t you think I’d have shoved her the rest of the way? Dude ran off along the path.”
“Hey!” A shout came from below. The gold panner stood waving an arm above her head. “Is she okay? The 9-1-1 operator wants to know her status.”
Before Landon could cancel her own call, it went through. She muted the line and yelled down to the woman on the beach. “I’ll update them. Go tell the office.”
The man on the cliff maintained his position in front of Ciara’s prone form, answering the questions Landon relayed from the phone. Both of his hands now pressed against the rock, fingers wide. Maintaining that squat must be killing his legs.
Phone wedged between her ear and shoulder, Landon knelt, gathering Moxie’s leash until she could reach the frantic dog. “Shh… She’ll be okay.” Please, God. She stroked from the top of his head along the length of his spine, firm and steady, repeating until the rhythm calmed him. He stood panting, focused on the edge of the cliff.
In another minute, he allowed her to scoop him in her arms and stand. His heartbeat tapped through his ribs, and sweat matted his short fur. He twisted to look down at Ciara.
Landon secured him with one arm and transferred the phone to her other hand. The operator had instructed her to stay on the line, so she thumbed the speaker icon and rested her arms against the railing.
The man below might be thirty, dark-eyed with vaguely exotic features. A black leather bracelet circled his left wrist, and the tip of a tattoo showed under the sleeve of that arm’s tee shirt.
He was right—Ciara could tumble further without a guard. Thank God he’d seen her fall and acted so fast. But even at this distance, his aggressive vibe had Landon’s fight-or-flight instincts quivering with the need to run.
Still… She swallowed some of her apprehension. “I’m sorry I overreacted when I saw you. Thanks for helping her. Her name is Ciara.”
His expression didn’t change, but he dipped his head. “I get it. I’m Shaun.”
“Landon. This is Moxie.” She repositioned the Chihuahua so the fence rail took more of his weight. Nobody would call him heavy, but her arm muscles needed a break.
“Good thing he was scared to come down here. Sounded like he wanted to take a bite of me.” The first hint of a smile touched his mouth.
“Did you see who pushed her?”
“Just his back. When she screamed, I ran over, but he didn’t stick around.”
Feet pounded on the path. A middle-aged park employee appeared, breathing hard, the gold panner a few steps behind. The park employee rushed to the fence and peered down. She unfolded a grey blanket and dangled it over the side. “Can you reach this? We need to keep her warm until the ambulance arrives.”
“How long?” An angry bite clipped Shaun’s question. Or maybe that was muscle strain.
The worker’s thin shoulders shifted. “They’re on the way, but we’re isolated. Could be twenty minutes or so. Can I get you anything? Water?”
“I’m good. Just hope she stays unconscious. If she starts to flail, we could both go down.”
Landon made eye contact with the gold panner. “Did you see what happened?”
“I looked up when she screamed—in time to see her land.” She took off her hat and started fanning herself with it. “It was terrible. I thought she’d keep going right to the bottom. Then I saw him climb down, and I hoped he’d know not to move her.”
The park employee stepped away from the edge. An embroidered badge on her uniform shirt identified her as Judy. “Nothing like this has ever happened here. We’re a safe family campground. Did you see anything, miss?”
“No, I’d gone back to the car for a minute.”
Moxie squirmed in Landon’s arms. Remembering the soggy pad in his car seat, she set him down but kept a firm hold on the leash. He scooted to the side of the path and wet a tree, then raced back to look down at Ciara, whimpering.
Good thing Ciara dropped the leash when she fell. Fell—the attacker must have picked her up and heaved her over the side.
Landon shook her head. “This can’t be random. I’m sure your other guests are safe. But she’s never mentioned any enemies, and I don’t know how anyone would have followed us here.”
Judy caught her lower lip in her teeth. “I need to let my boss know. I’ll send up water bottles for you and another blanket. Maybe the young man can put it under his knees or something to be a little more comfortable. I hope that ambulance gets here soon.”
Before the emergency crew arrived, Judy had supplied a metal dish of water for Moxie, who lapped half of it up without stopping. Landon and the gold panner, who’d introduced herself as Emmalee, stayed at the fence so Shaun would know he wasn’t alone.
They heard the sirens a full five minutes before the sound cut off. A long red fire truck stopped at the stairs to the beach, and figures lugged equipment down to the base of the cliff. The ambulance would have parked at the trailhead, out of sight from here.
The firefighters positioned a soft mat to catch a falling body while two white-shirted emergency medical techs wrestled a wheeled gurney along the path. A couple more firefighters followed.
Landon scooped up the Chihuahua and moved aside with Emmalee to give them access.
Despite the danger and urgency, the first responders’ calm talk and movements drained the fear from the atmosphere. After the high alert of Ciara’s fall and the drawn-out tension waiting for help to arrive, the rescue felt anticlimactic. A lanky EMT cross-checked the details while firefighters attached ropes to sturdy trees. A second EMT stepped into a safety harness and climbed over the fence, grey ponytail swinging. Swift, careful motions took him out of sight as he spoke with Shaun.
Minutes later, Shaun’s dishevelled hair appeared above the cliff edge, and he clambered up and over the fence. He slapped dirt from his skinny black jeans and the front of his shirt and then stood flexing his hands. Gripping the rough rock for so long must have hurt.
Landon hurried over to him. “Ciara will want to thank you. Could you give me some contact information?”
He waved her away, the braided leather bracelet bouncing on his wrist. “No need. Anybody would have done the same. Anyone but the creep who dumped her over in the first place.”
He half-turned to the trees as if to take the quickest route out of there, then glanced toward the fence. His feet followed his gaze, and he stood, elbows on the wooden rails, looking down at the rescue workers.
Voices drifted up from the rock, and Shaun retreated to the trees, keeping his distance from Landon and Emmalee. A series of choreographed actions brought Ciara up the cliffside and over the fence to safety.
Ciara’s dark hair and lipstick emphasized her pallor. Straps secured her blanketed body in place, but she lay still as death. The ponytailed EMT knelt to reassess her while the other disengaged his safety harness and helped coil the ropes.
Shaun was sidling past the EMT at the stretcher, toward the farther reach of the trail, when a new voice called out.
“Please, nobody leave until we can take a statement from each of you.”
He stopped, but with that schooled-patient expression, he’d considered running.
Constable Zerkowsky joined the group, offering Landon a flat-lipped smile. She nodded, relieved to see him but wishing for the extra comfort Dylan brought. Still, Zerkowsky was capable and thorough.
As he organized the witnesses and began taking information, Landon knelt at the stretcher’s free side. “Moxie’s okay, Ciara. I’ve got him.”
Ciara’s lashes didn’t even flicker.
The little dog fought to break free of Landon’s arms. “Could he lick her cheek if I held him?”
The EMT’s eyes softened. “Be quick. She’s ready for transport. We need to get on the road.”
Moxie strained forward, whining as she lowered his nose to Ciara’s face. When she eased him away and stood back to give the EMTs room, he whimpered like a child.
Once the EMTs elevated the stretcher and guided it toward the parking lot, she raised the dog to eye level. “What are we going to do with you while Ciara’s in the hospital? The inn cats would eat you alive.”