Read Edge of Survival Online

Authors: Toni Anderson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #Contemporary

Edge of Survival (10 page)

“Because that reporter was alive to tell her story and ruin his career. He had to know what he was risking by pulling her out of there.”

Johnny nodded. “He could have just shot her.”

“That’s right,” Griff said. “Johnny, see what else you can get on this guy. We’ll run DNA and fingerprints through the national databases in Ottawa as a priority and double-check his movements for the day of the murder. McCoy, you’re on that.”

“See the way he hovered over that cute little scientist yesterday?” Johnny whistled. He was typing information into his laptop at warp speed. “You think he might be a danger to anyone else?”

As in
Do you think he’s a serial killer?
Crap, that would be all Griff needed. A Special Forces soldier turned killer.

“We’ve got no motive and no evidence that ties him to the crime.” Griff mulled over the information. “He doesn’t feel right to me.”

“But what’s to stop him disappearing into the bush if it is him? I mean he’s got the training, right? That’s what those Special Forces guys do—survive in inhospitable regions without leaving a trace. Shouldn’t we at least pull him in?” McCoy asked.

“And tip him off when we can’t hold him? Then he might really disappear. No, leave him where he is for now and let’s follow the evidence.”

Alice McCoy’s neck had flushed a deep beetroot color that would have clashed with the red serge of her dress uniform had she been wearing it.

“Have we found the vehicle yet?” he asked her.

She shook her head.

“And no one admits to seeing Sylvie at the bar?”

“But they wouldn’t, would they?” McCoy crossed her arms.

“No. That would be too easy,” Griff agreed and looked away. “So we’ve got no witnesses, no vehicle, no primary crime scene, no murder weapon, no obvious sign of sexual assault and no motive.” He looked down at the photographs.

Why kill her? The usual motives were greed, revenge, jealousy, elimination, conviction, self-defense or simply the lust for killing.

Had Daniel Fox developed a lust for killing?

She was a drug addict…“Find out who her supplier was.” Drug dealers were a good bet for murder. They had a lot to lose. He exchanged a grimace with Johnny. “So far we have one brutalized woman, several hundred suspects, and enough evidence to tie up the lab for months.”

Retirement was looking better every day.

“I’ve got a couple of guys with priors,” Johnny Leland piped up.

“You questioned them all?”

“No red flags, except the pilot.”

“So, like I said, until we get DNA back we’ve got nothing.” Griff nodded, exhaustion eating into him. He needed to get home to his wife and kids. He wasn’t doing any good up here, but he was conflicted by the promise he’d made the Watsons.
Damn
. “Okay, we’ve done everything we can do onsite for now. Pack up, arrange transportation, and we’ll head home first thing tomorrow morning.”

McCoy’s jaw dropped.

“I’ll coordinate the investigation from Divisional HQ and return here if we get a lead.” Griff gathered up the file of papers he’d collected. “McCoy, you can continue to be my liaison, assuming your boss doesn’t object?” He looked up and exchanged a nod with Roblin. “Okay, let’s get as much done here as we can before the end of the day. Let’s find Sylvie Watson’s killer.”

***

An enormous black bear splashed across the Mitshishu Brook just below the falls and sprinted up a near-vertical scree slope to escape from the helicopter. Holy crap, that thing could shift.

Daniel looked at the biologists, expecting a hero’s welcome from the damsels in distress who’d sounded frantic on the radio. But they looked far from relieved. Something was wrong. Daniel’s senses went on high alert. Vikki was stripping off her clothes and no one was watching. Tommy was running toward him waving in excitement.

The Doc…

His heart slowed for two distinct beats before instinct screamed a warning.

Cameran Young was nowhere in sight.

Adrenaline whipped through his bloodstream even as he ignored the effects and regulated his breathing. He couldn’t afford to lose control. He landed the chopper, turned off the machine and unclipped his harness, then ran for the falls with the rotors still spinning. Vikki executed a perfect dive into the pool.

Tommy grabbed his arm, jabbering. “She’s in the water. She fell in the water and her waders filled and she sank—”

He grabbed the kid by a handful of shirt. “The Doc? The Doc is in the water?” Daniel yanked his shirt over his head and kicked off his boots. “How long?” He shucked his pants just as Vikki surfaced.

“I can’t find her!” she yelled and spluttered.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
How long had she been down? He grabbed his knife from his pants and ran full pelt up onto the rocks above the pool and dove straight into the water.

There was the shock of cold. Which was good for the Doc, but not so great for his fine motor skills. He kept descending, slicing deep into the pool that had been eroded by thousands of years of water versus bedrock. It was silent, except for the sound of his blood thrashing around his body as he searched for Cam.

How long had she been down?

Panic fluttered. He had to keep calm. Had to remember his training even though tactical breathing was a little difficult in this situation. It was dark under the water, with bright shafts of sunlight breaking through the surface like spotlights. Fish swam all around, unfazed by the human invasion.

Everything felt so violently alive—his senses sharpened, nerve endings stripped, survival skills on fire. His body was primed by sheer muscle memory and cognitive reflex. Even though worry for the Doc gripped his chest, he’d forgotten how
good
this felt. He’d forgotten how
alive
a body could be.

Then he spotted her. Motionless at the bottom of the pool except for her hair, which swirled around her like silk, and he remembered something else. How
dead
a body could be. He kicked hard until he could grab hold of her.

Her eyes were open but she was unresponsive, unconscious. His heartbeat ratcheted up and blood pressure skyrocketed, compounded by lack of oxygen. He put the knife between his teeth and gripped her under the arms. She was rag-doll pliant. Dammit. His body went into overdrive. She was heavy with the waders, but he heaved her upward, every fiber straining with determination, knowing if he had to surface to grab air and leave her behind, she was dead.

She might already be dead…

Panic took control of his muscles and she almost slipped through his grasp. He caught a handful of T-shirt and jerked her closer. It didn’t matter how tight his chest felt or how badly his lungs hurt, he wasn’t letting go.

He burst through the surface and aimed for the shallows with a one-handed crawl. It wasn’t far and he climbed to his feet, lobbing his knife toward the bank.

“Vikki. I need help,” he shouted. She jumped back in and together they dragged Cam to the side of the stream.

“Is she breathing?” Vikki asked.

He put his ear to her lips. “No. Check for a pulse.” He tilted Cam’s jaw, closed her nose and pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips were petal soft and morgue cold.

“I feel a pulse.” Vikki held Cam’s wrist in her fingers, her eyes wide with concern. “I think.”

A savage dread gripped Daniel as he blew into the Doc’s mouth again, and again, and again. Each time he watched her chest rise, but she wasn’t responding. Even though he was doing everything that needed to be done, nothing was working. He checked her pulse. It was faint and fluttery but there.

“Come on, Cam!” he yelled and slammed his fist against her sternum, furious with her, with himself and the whole damn world.

She started coughing. Relief surged through him, and even though he was one-hundred-percent focused on the Doc, he knew he was shaking like a baby. He turned her onto her side and watched her cough the water out of her lungs.
Christ
. He brushed the thick mat of hair off her forehead, her skin cold and bloodless. As bloodless as Sylvie’s had been after her throat had been slashed.

“How are you feeling?” Fears of brain damage rushed through his mind as she supported herself on her elbow.

“Peachy,” she said and threw up again.

He felt sick with relief and couldn’t make sense of the riot of emotions raging inside him. Near misses with the hereafter were laughed at, ignored, forgotten in the world in which he’d once lived. They didn’t count. The only thing that warranted the inner turmoil that was currently battering his heart and making his stomach roil was actual irrevocable death.

But she wasn’t dead.

“What the hell happened?” He was shouting. Tommy cowered behind Tooly’s back.

“I accidentally pushed her in when we were dodging the bear,” Tommy admitted.

“It was my fault,” Vikki spoke up. “I panicked when she shot off the banger.”

“Well, you’re bloody lucky she’s not dead,” he snarled. He breathed through his nose and concentrated on the rush of the waterfall in an effort to calm his reaction. After a moment, he checked Cam’s pulse, his own skipping in his ears.

The Doc blinked sea-green eyes at him and struggled to sit up, but he stopped her with a hand on her chest. “Just give it a minute, okay?” And then they stared at each other, long enough for him to be the one to turn away.

What would he have done if he’d lost her? Why did her survival matter so much more than anybody else he’d met over the past two years?

Vikki started pulling her clothes back on and Daniel registered that he was cold, so the Doc must be freezing.

“Tommy, grab my survival bag from under the backseat of the chopper.” He had a set of spare clothes there. He walked over to the spot where he’d thrown his knife and retrieved it.

“Don’t cut them…” Cam’s voice sounded as though she’d gargled petrol.

He balanced the weight of his knife in his palm and frowned. “What?”

“My waders.” She grinned, causing his heart to slam in his chest even though she looked pale as milk and as wet as a weekend in Scotland. “Don’t cut my waders. They’re the only pair I’ve got.”

Jesus, she was making a joke. As he released his breath, a giant constricting weight lifted off his chest. She’d have died if he hadn’t arrived when he had, and that thought scared the crap out of him because her smile was worth a million breakneck flights and a lifetime of one-night stands.

He hid his emotions beneath a scowl. “Then let’s get them off you and get you dry.”

Vikki tried to pull the rubber down Cam’s torso.

“Let me stand up.” Cam pushed her away.

Daniel grabbed her hand and put an arm around her waist to support her weight as Vikki inched the waders down to her knees. It reminded him of that first day. When she’d clung so tightly to him after she’d found Sylvie’s body, and he’d held her close just to connect with another human being.

His first mistake.

There was an ancient Chinese legend that said if you saved a man from drowning, you were responsible for him for life.

He stared hard at the top of the Doc’s head. Somehow, it had become not just important, but vital he keep her safe. Maybe she was his symbol of survival and redemption. But considering she was one of the most disaster-prone individuals he’d ever met, he had his work cut out for him.

“Sit down,” he said, his tone brusque. He was trying not to recall the vision of her lifeless body at the bottom of that ten-meter pool.

Cam dropped onto her bottom and Vikki struggled to yank the boots off her feet.

He squatted by her side. “You’re a bloody liability, you know that?”

Her lips stretched into a pale grin. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

He caught Tooly’s gaze. “What happened?”

“Big
adlak
I followed yesterday walked straight up the river valley.” Tooly nodded to where the stream split into braided sections. “He was hungry, and lazy. I think he’d decided to eat me rather than bother catching fish.” The old man’s smile showed a mouth full of crooked, blackened teeth. “They should have let him take my leg rather than push the woman into the pool.” Lines of distress cut deep around his mouth.

Tommy arrived with Daniel’s duffel. His eyes were huge. Daniel gave a slight shake of his head. There was no need to tell anyone he carried a sawn-off shotgun under his seat, although he doubted it would remain secret for much longer.

“Here.” Daniel thrust a T-shirt and sweats at the Doc and pulled thick woolen socks over her toes.

“What are you going to wear?” Her voice was croaky. Her eyes swept up and down his body and he registered he was only a pair of briefs short of naked.

“I’ve got clothes around here somewhere…”

“So you stopped to undress before you saved me?” Her eyes were teasing, but he wasn’t ready to joke about it. Instead he went looking for his trousers while Vikki and Katie helped the Doc get dried and dressed.

When they were all ready, he gathered up his kit bag. “Let’s get you to the clinic—”

“Nuh-uh.” Cam was on her feet, a little unsteady, but apart from the damp hair plastered to her skull, she looked good. Excellent skin color. Eyes bright and alert. Too bloody good. “I’m fine. And I haven’t even thanked you for saving my—”

“Forget it.” He clamped down on the urge to grab her and hug her and tell her it was a pleasure. It wasn’t a freaking pleasure. It was a disaster. It had reminded him of everything he stood to lose should he rejoin the human race.
No thanks.
“You don’t want to go to the clinic, fine. Your decision.” His voice was sharp and she flinched and pressed her lips together.

He’d touched those lips with his own.

That awareness slammed into him like a cannon. She’d been unconscious, but within hours of making a vow to give up women, he’d frickin’ kissed her and now he knew how she tasted.

He wanted to spit out the knowledge and erase the memory, because it didn’t matter why he’d kissed her. It just mattered that he wanted to do it again, plus a whole lot more. Where was his self-control? Where was the discipline that had gotten him through the grueling Selection process and years of battle? He picked up a rock and lobbed it into the bush. He couldn’t even drown his sorrows in a beer. Fuck. He had the discipline of a toddler with ADHD.

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