Countdown

by Carey Baldwin

  An entire nation of bees ready to swarm.

  Then she inhaled slowly.

  She also remembered reading that bees are generally peaceful, so she shook out her hands and walked on, careful not to jostle the hives or dislodge any rocks or branches. A moment later they’d successfully traversed the stretch of hives. She let out a long breath of relief and then she saw it: a rock tumbling down the side of the cliff, bouncing from one hive to another.

  Don’t panic.

  “Spense,” she whispered in warning.

  A wave of insects flew in formation from the hives and arrowed straight for them.

  Now you can panic.

  “Run!” she yelled.

  Spense shoved her in front of him, and she jogged as fast as she could over the rocky path. Spense could’ve easily outstripped her, but he kept pace behind her giving her as much cover as he could with his outstretched arms.

  Her heart raced to keep up with her breathing, providing precious fuel for her flight. Behind her she saw a black cloud of angry insects chasing them. Their buzzing electrified the air like a summer lightning storm.

  “Water!” Spense called out to her, as his hands steered her in a sharp left turn. She darted through a wooded area then slid, like she was stealing home base, into a muddy streambed. Spense crashed in on top of her, and she shivered in the cool water. With thousands and thousands of bees circling above them, they crawled on their bellies, panting, seeking safety in deeper water. The tail of the formation tightened its line and dove toward the stream.

  She couldn’t bear to look.

  “Open your eyes,” Spense whispered in her ear.

  She forced herself to look up.

  “Holy crap.” She uttered the words through chattering teeth.

  The bees had reversed course. They were headed back home.

  “You can say that again. You okay?”

  “Uh huh. You?”

  “Swell. Just swell. My guess is this is the spot where everyone gives up and goes home.”

  “Which means Rose would hold up somewhere near here. I bet we haven’t much farther to go.” Caitlin got to her feet and glanced down in dismay at her torn wet jeans. Then she looked at Spense. His muddy hair stuck up in weird spikes, like a little boy who’d gotten hold of hair gel for the very first time.

  She tiptoed up, wiped a smudge from his cheek, kissed him hard on the mouth then drew back. “You know what I love about hanging out with you? There’s never a dull moment.”

  He kissed her back just as hard.

  “Ditto,” he said when they came up for air. “Does that mean you want to keep going?”

  “I didn’t do battle with those bees just to turn around now. I say if Rose hasn’t fled the island, there’s a good chance she’s hiding somewhere remote, but where she’s familiar with the terrain—like here.”

  “Agreed. I say we keep going, and on the way back, we need to find a detour around those hives.”

  “You think?” There was no way in hell she was strolling past that death trap on the return trip.

  A half hour later, her legs were ready to give up. But she was determined to go a little farther. They’d covered a lot of ground already, and there was nowhere else to search except the falls. If Rose wasn’t there, they’d likely guessed wrong about her holing up at the end of her father’s rainbow.

  Spense slowed up and motioned her over to him. “It appears we’ve followed the map well.” He halted and pointed. “We’ve reached the chutes and ladders portion of our journey. Are you up for it?”

  “Of course.” She could hear the roar of the nearby waterfall. Mana Falls.

  As a girl, and even as a young woman, she’d been the careful sort. But since she’d been around Spense, she’d changed. It wasn’t that she’d grown reckless, but she had begun to appreciate that with great risk there could sometimes be great reward.

  According to the map, there was a cliff with a steep drop-off, and rudimentary steps to make your way down to the bottom of a canyon graced by a hidden waterfall. The locals warned tourists not to venture to this part of the island without an official guide, partly to keep it for their own enjoyment, but also to prevent injuries, if the sign at the top of the cliff was any indication.

  Descendez à vos risques et perils!

  Descend at your own risk!

  “Looks like fun to me,” Spense said.

  Jutting rocks formed a semblance of steps trailing down at a nearly vertical angle. About halfway down, the “steps” became truly sketchy. Along that portion of the climb, there were only a few toeholds. Like something you’d see at a rock climbing gym—only spaced widely apart with few handholds and a really, really long way to fall. To aid hikers intrepid or foolish enough to chance the journey, a rope dangled. It was attached by a carabiner and piton buried in the rock—sort of like a broken guitar string hanging over its sound hole.

  “Just exactly how old do you think that rope might be?” She looked to Spense for advice. Hard to put her trust in that weathered old thing.

  He shrugged.

  “We can make it even without it,” she said. “Maybe we shouldn’t rely on the rope to get up and down. I’m not sure it will bear our weight.”

  “Point taken, but it will be a lot tougher. I’ll head down first, and test its strength, then you can decide whether to follow me or not.”

  “Oh, I’m following.” That wasn’t a question. “It’s just do I want to grab onto that rope or take my chances without it.”

  “Do not follow me unless I give you the go-ahead.” Spense was already clambering down. At the midsection he slowed considerably. “Just stay there until I give you the signal.”

  The hell with that.

  She was doing this—carefully of course. Gingerly, she toed her foot onto one crumbling stone after another, until she arrived at the portion where she had to choose.

  To rope or not to rope.

  Spense yelled something up at her, but she couldn’t make out his words above the falls. And she was afraid to look down. She’d been keeping her eyes glued to the sheer rock wall in front of her, finding her toeholds by feel.

  “What did you say?”

  “Pope!”

  Okay, he had to have said rope. Listening above the sound of the falls was like texting with auto correct.

  “Caity, look at me.”

  She dared a glance down.

  Spense lounged at the bottom of the canyon on a big boulder, looking totally chill, like this whole ordeal hadn’t even winded him. He made a hand-over-hand motion presumably to represent climbing. “The Pope is good.”

  She was still wary, but she trusted Spense. If he said the Pope was good, she was willing to convert. She grabbed hold of the thick hemp, with one hand at first, not daring to put her full weight on it. After a few downward steps, her confidence grew enough to use both hands and rely on the rope for support. It took her another fifteen minutes, and a few terrifying stretches across gaping rocks, but in the end, she made it down. She hadn’t set any world records for speed, but she had arrived at the same boulder in the sun as Spense.

  Life was good.

  The day was hot.

  And the falls—breathtaking.

  This place reminded her of Havasupai at the bottom of the Grand Canyon—minus around a jillion tourists.

  She’d love to spend a few minutes in the cool water of the falls. She was caked with mud and her knees stung from sliding on them into a gravelly stream during the great bee escape. But best not take the time. They were in pursuit of a possibly dangerous fugitive, and just as importantly, a fugitive who was proving to be her own worst enemy.

  Ever since they’d hauled Rose away, Caitlin hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that nothing about this case was what it seemed.

  For everyone’s sake, she wanted to get to the bottom of it. And that needed to happen fast, given the pressing date she had with Spense, Sunday at sunset on Dolphin Beach.

  “Keep going?” Spense a
sked.

  She was still getting her wind back after the treacherous climb into the canyon, so she gave him a thumbs-up and they pressed on in silence.

  But not for long.

  About the same time her breathing normalized, the path ended in a sheer vertical cliff that was twice as high as the one they’d scaled down.

  “The buck stops here,” Spense said.

  No way to get up that without rock climbing equipment and a hell of a lot more skill than Caitlin possessed. “I don’t think Rose is up there.”

  “Not unless she’s a mountain goat.”

  “I guess I’m the goat. I was so sure this map would mean something to Rose. I really thought this was the place she’d feel safe. Guess I was wrong.”

  He stretched his arms and did a three-sixty. “We were wrong. But you have to admit it’s been a great day.”

  “Bees and all.” She grinned, because Spense was right. “You know what would make it even better? A swim at the bottom of the falls before we tackle the climb out.”

  “That sounds good to me.”

  The sun shining down on her skin was like a battery charge. She felt so energized she had to force herself not to race Spense back to the falls. They had a long journey home. So like a sensible person, she waited until they were a few yards away to break into a run. But he was too fast for her. His clothes were off before she could suggest a skinny dip.

  Great minds.

  She quickly wriggled out of her clothes and scrambled up onto some boulders.

  The pool beneath the falls was too shallow for diving, but it seemed deep enough to jump in feetfirst. Caitlin landed with a magnificent splash that hid Spense from her view. A second later he popped up next to her. She ducked, anticipating a revenge splash, and then a chase, but Spense had other ideas. He was all business as he took her in his arms.

  “Life is short,” he said. Though it was said lightheartedly they both knew it was true. “Let’s honeymoon first.”

  Spense lay beside Caity on the rocks with their clothes beneath them for towels. His body felt boneless, his skin warm, and his heart full. Caity satisfied every appetite he had and cultivated ones he hadn’t known before her. He’d never minded spooning for example, but after-sex banter had never been his thing. With every other woman, he’d been uncontrollably sleepy after making love. With Caity, he didn’t want to fall asleep.

  He just wanted more.

  More touching.

  More time.

  Reaching out, he took her hand.

  He let his gaze drift over her naked body.

  More beauty.

  And yes . . . more talking.

  Even if it was shoptalk. In fact shoptalk was what interested him most. He loved this job. The intellectual high he got from solving a complicated puzzle, the thrill of the chase, the swell of righteous pride when they got the bad guy—or gal—off the street.

  So when Caity said, “You think Rose is still on the island?”

  He propped himself on one elbow and willingly chimed in. “I think if she is, we better find her fast.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Either she’s gone, or she’s not done.”

  “Tahiti has such a small police force, and it’s surrounded by water. Rose has shown herself capable of making an escape by sea. And any woman who can con her way out of police custody could’ve found her way off this island by now. It’s not like the French police have an entire task force out looking for her.”

  “Of course she might be long gone by now. But if Lilly is right, and Rose is still around, what do you think her agenda is? Make amends with Lilly? Finish off Tommy?” Caity asked.

  “My guess would be both.”

  I can explain everything.

  “Too bad the cops took her away before she had the chance to say her piece.” Spense knew that had been bugging Caity, too. “If we’d had a chance to talk to her . . .”

  “You think Rose would’ve told us the truth.”

  Spense lifted a shoulder. “I think she risked capture, not to mention adding additional charges, by coming into our hotel room. She wanted to tell us her side of the story. So whether that story was truth or an attempt to manipulate it, talking to us was of critical importance to her. Obviously she didn’t want to spill her secrets in front of the police, but it’s too bad she couldn’t give us a clue.”

  Caity bolted upright. “Maybe she did. How do we know she didn’t circle back to our hotel, only this time she was careful not to get caught?”

  “You think she left us a secret message.”

  Caity picked up her jeans and started hopping into them one leg at a time. “Maybe it’s wishful thinking. But if Rose wants to communicate with us, which she clearly does, I believe she can find a way.”

  His legs had grown stiff, and he’d had about enough of the rock that was pressing against his spine. He stretched and stood up, too. Then he pulled the most gorgeous half-naked woman he’d ever seen in for one last kiss. “Thanks for earlier.”

  “It was beautiful,” she said.

  And it was, making love to the woman of his dreams, at the base of a hidden waterfall they’d risked life and limb to reach. It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d find advertised in a travelogue. It was more the kind of memory you store in your heart forever.

  And forever was exactly how long he intended on keeping Caity.

  He watched her scramble into the rest of her clothes with what seemed like a new sense of urgency. Rose wasn’t here. It was time to get home and search for more clues. Maybe one Rose had left deliberately. Why hadn’t they thought of that before?

  He dressed quickly and shot Caity a grin. “Let’s roll.”

  She pulled out Parker’s map, then crumpled it up, and stuffed it in her pocket. “Guess we don’t need this anymore.”

  They easily retraced their steps to the cliff face with the steep steps and rope. Caity should go first this time. He’d bring up the rear and steady her if needed.

  “After you,” he said.

  She put a foot up, and dirt and gravel rained down from above.

  Not much, certainly not a landslide, but enough to give him pause. “This cliff seems like it wants to give way any minute,” he warned. “Don’t rush it. I’ll be right behind you.”

  The first part of the climb was uneventful. Not surprising since the steps were closer together and more level toward the bottom.

  But he knew trouble was waiting for them. They reached the steepest, and least defined section and his gut clenched. His training had gotten him through worse climbs than this, but Caity was a civilian. In shape, sure, but she didn’t have the background or the muscle he did. At least she was rested and refreshed from the waterfall.

  And she had the rope.

  He knew she wasn’t jazzed about relying on it, but given how long it had taken her to get down, she was going to need it to make her way back up and out. Climbing slowly behind her, he took it easy, giving her just the right amount of space. Now and then, he tugged on the rope, testing its strength.

  A scraping sound came from above, followed by another gravel slide.

  He spit out a mouthful of dirt.

  Dammit!

  Every few minutes debris trickled down onto them—strange, since they hadn’t had the problem on the way down.

  Another rain of pebbles.

  Caity looked back at him. “Goat?”

  “Maybe.” There was something mucking around up there, that was for sure.

  “Long as it’s not bees,” she shot back.

  “Keep your head down and stay alert for falling rocks.”

  He’d like to joke back, but his nerves were on edge. A rockslide in this situation could be lethal. He would’ve suggested turning back and waiting for conditions to improve, but they were halfway up. The bottom was as far away as the top.

  The good news was Caity seemed relaxed. She was climbing quickly and with confidence.

  The bad news: Grit continued to come down, like a drizzle thre
atening to break into a full-fledged downpour. Every muscle in his body was screwed up tight. His gaze locked on Caity, who currently had one hand on the rope and the other on the ledge above the midsection. The large, flat area that signaled the spot where the climb leveled off. From there, secure steps led all the way to the top.

  Caity leaned back against the rope and wedged one foot into a crevice as she reached out with her free hand.

  His throat constricted.

  You’re almost there, babe.

  She shifted her weight onto the face of the cliff, released the rope, and hefted herself up onto the ledge.

  His chest loosened and his heart rate slowed.

  She’d made it to safety.

  From here on out it was all gravy.

  Until it wasn’t.

  His foot slipped on a bit of scree, and he grappled with the rope, taking it by both hands to steady himself.

  What the hell?

  He could feel a certain amount of give in the rope that hadn’t been there before. The muscles in his arms tightened as the rope slackened.

  He kicked his feet, trying to get a toehold but couldn’t find one.

  Focus.

  He had to get his weight off the rope, but the cliff was slippery and there was no place for him to get purchase.

  With the soles of his feet pressed against the crumbling wall of dirt, he muscled his way higher, toward a possible handhold. The rope jerked, and he watched in disbelief as its anchor wobbled and slipped. The piton that secured the rope stuck out from the cliff wall. It was working its way loose.

  Panic welled in his chest for a nanosecond, then sent adrenaline flooding his body, triggering his brain into safety mode.

  His life didn’t flash before his eyes.

  Instead, he envisioned his Rubik’s cube. He had seconds, no more, to solve this puzzle. There was still time before the anchor broke free.

  You can do this.

  To his left, he could see a potential foothold and near it, a place to grab the rock with his hand. He stretched his leg to the side, but couldn’t reach.

  The rope slipped another inch, making his elbows jerk.