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  “You hungry?” Brent asked, hearing Janie’s tummy growl. He was hoping it was why she seemed so easily irritated.

  “Starving! There are a few granola bars in my backpack and some beef jerky. Help yourself if you want,” Janie offered, her camera making additional clicking noises as she took another large burst of photos. “I'll take a couple of granola bars.”

  Brent got up and walked over to Janie's knapsack, unzipping it to peer inside.

  “So, how long will you be on the island? You staying over for Labor Day weekend?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

  “Leaving today.”

  Brent frowned his disappointment, but didn't say anything.

  Not seeing the granola bars sitting on top, Brent opened the backpack wider, pulling out an old red sweatshirt, a red water bottle, and then a worn and bent photo. The photo was of Janie and another girl, one who looked enough like her, it wasn't hard to guess they were sisters.

  “I've never seen this picture of you and Danie before,” Brent said, quietly.

  Janie lowered the camera from her eye and looked over. He held the picture up for her to see.

  “It was taken the day she...,” Janie's voice went quiet. “I take it with me wherever I go,” she finished.

  “It's a good picture of you two.” He put the picture back into the backpack carefully and pulled out the granola bars. “Should I toss these up to you?”

  “No, no. I'll come down.” Janie shook her head with a small smile and started to scoot, bottom down first, off the boulder. She walked over and took the offered bars, then moved to the cliff's edge to sit down.

  “You know, I think about Danie a lot,” Brent ventured carefully, taking a seat next to her.

  “Me too.”

  “It'll be a year—”

  She cut him off. “Tomorrow.”

  Brent grunted in agreement, along with a curt nod of his head.

  “I want you to know…Gabe and I, we tried…” Brent turned to Janie earnestly. “We tried our hardest. We just...we just weren't quick enough. I’m so sor—”

  Janie cut him off again.

  “Don't say it, Brent. You don't have to say it.”

  “I think I do, Janie.” He took a deep breath and shifted his weight towards her. “Since you’ve left the island, you haven't taken my phone calls. You don't respond to my text messages or emails. I’ve been to your place in Seattle, more than a couple of times to see you. And each time, even though your car is there, you never come to the door.” Brent shook his head musingly. “You didn't even let me know you were coming back to the island.” He locked eyes with her, his voice husky with emotion. “I feel like you blame me.”

  Janie's eyes closed at the accusation and she suddenly could smell the salt water, see the glittering sun bouncing off the waves of the ocean, and feel the comfort of holding Brent's hand.

  Their friend, Amy, and her sister were laughing at a dumb joke he had just told. Gabe and Kevin were busying themselves with making a bonfire for later that night, and Lucas was still struggling with his camping gear. She was smiling and happy….and Janie had been in love.

  It was Lucas, with his big smile and bright eyes, who had asked for her help to put up his tent. She had said yes, instead of going down to the water with her sister, who had mischievously said something about wanting to go for a swim. She remembered how hot the late August day had been. It would have been normal to want to go swimming. But she had wanted to stay with Lucas, laughing at him and his collapsing tent.

  Fighting the tent poles, they’d just started again when someone yelled for her, shouting she needed to come quick. Danie was in trouble. Danie was drowning. There was a brief moment of confusion. The notion Danie was drowning? She remembered dropping the tent pegs and running as fast as she could in her flip flops to Shallow Point. When she got there, Gabe was already chest deep in the ocean water, wading out to the floating body.

  Running to the scene, Brent had launched himself from the point, diving straight into the shallow waves, only to come up with a sharp shake of his head. He started plowing through the tide towards her sister. She watched as Brent reached her body, turning her limp form face up before wrapping his arm around her neck and grasping her shoulder. He was trying to keep her head above water while pulling her back to shore.

  Gabe had finally reached him and the two lifted her out of the water, desperately maneuvering through the sharp and slippery rocks so they could hoist her up to Lucas and Kevin, who were waiting on dry land.

  Kevin had dragged her half a foot from the edge, before roughly dropping her lifeless body down onto the pebbled beach, immediately starting CPR. She vaguely remembered Amy holding her back, keeping her from running to her sister’s side, while she screamed for her to open her eyes.

  She had opened her eyes… on the first punch to her chest. Bubbling water had flowed from her mouth. They could even hear the sharp cracking of ribs with each compression, as Kevin bounced back and forth from pinching her nose and trying to breathe life into her lungs.

  And there they all were, gathered around her. Brent, pacing back and forth. Amy, yelling pointless questions. Lucas, standing there, mouth agape and Gabe, hurriedly pushed Kevin aside, telling him to go get help. Then Kevin racing to his truck, tearing away from camp, surprisingly coming back a few short minutes later with a forest ranger in tow.

  They’d all watched as Gabe labored to save her. Gabe, refusing to give up even as the ranger had attempted to take over in an effort to give him a break. Gabe, faithful Gabe. Ever persistent, not one to take no for an answer. And she, crying helplessly as her little sister lay there, unresponsive, eyes wide open, starring at the sky unblinking. Her mind racing as she took in the scene before her, watching everyone watching Danie, and suddenly realizing what had happened. Quickly accepting the fact things were never going to be the same for her. She’d forever be haunted with the nightmare of watching her sister die and knowing a part of her died with her.

  “Janie? Do you blam—"

  At the sound of Brent’s voice, Janie fitfully shook her memories away. She looked into his eyes and then abruptly turned away, sealing off her emotions. She slowly took a bite of her granola bar… stalling.

  “I've been busy with the new job,” she finally said a minute later, the smell of salt water still in her nostrils.

  “Bull.”

  “It’s not bull, Brent. My new agent has been on my cas—”

  “Why can’t you just be honest with me?"

  Janie sighed heavily.

  “Let's not do this, Brent. We've had a really nice visit today, okay?” Janie lifted her camera up from her chest. “Thank you so much for helping me get here. If I get the right shot, it's going to go a long way with my new agent.” She gave him a pleasant, but distant smile. “It was good to see you.”

  Brent’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. She was dismissing him from her company. The conversation was over. They were done.

  Nodding his head in resignation, he got up from the ledge carefully, inadvertently knocking rocks loose in the process. A very large pebble rolled over the side and Janie watched it tumble down with fascination.

  “Well, I'll let you get back at it then,” he paused, waiting to see if she’d stop him. She didn’t. “Good seeing you again, Janie.” Brent grabbed his knapsack roughly and started his way back down their self-made trail.

  “Bye, Brent,” Janie called to him lightly, almost regretfully. She could tell by the color of his neck and the tense muscles in his back, he was angry and hurt. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him…ever.

  She watched him till he was out of sight and then faced forward towards the ledge. She felt conflicted. Brent had tried to be there for her afterwards, offering his shoulder and his hand. It hadn’t mattered. Though he tried to save her baby sister… He hadn't been quick enough. It really was a shame, because Janie loved him...had loved him.

  She wondered how long she had been sitting there reminiscing, when she star
ted to slowly stand up, hearing footsteps behind her. Apparently, he’d decided to come back, and knowing Brent, he probably had a few more things to say. She was worried this might happen.

  “Did you forget something?” Janie asked, starting to turn around. “Because if you came back to…” The question caught in her throat. “What are you doing—,” she was cut off.

  “I figured it out and I need to tell you something.”

  “What did you figure out?” The intense glare of malice frightened her. She no longer felt safe. “Uh… what do you need to tell me?” she asked cautiously, eying the distance between them.

  “I made a mistake and I’m sorry.”

  “It was an accidental drowning. We all KNOW it was an accident. There's nothing to be sorry about.” She shifted her weight, taking a quick peek behind her shoulder. “Danie’s death was purely accidental,” her voice shook as she took a tiny step back, her heels teetering on the edge. She slowly reached for the bear spray in her pocket.

  “No. I'm not sorry about that. I'm sorry about THIS...”

  The shove to her chest was so hard and shocking, her teeth clattered together as she flew backwards. Her arms shot out, fingers grasping at nothing but wind. A rushing sound of air flooded her senses, as it buffeted against her windbreaker and rushed past her ears like thunder. There was nothing but gray sky and wisps of her hair flying back and forth within her vision. And then suddenly, a face ...looking down at her from the ledge.

  Chapter 3

  Sheriff Lane looked at her desk phone in exasperation as it rudely interrupted her concentration.

  “Caleb?” she called out into the front section of the sheriff’s office. She was answered by silence and then another ring of the phone. “Deputy Pickens?” she called a little louder, leaning over the side of her desk to get a better view of the front office.

  It was vacant and no one appeared to be standing at the greeting counter or the coffee pot stand. Frowning, she glanced at the clock hanging above the entrance door of the island's small sheriff’s office and noted the time.

  Deputy Caleb Pickens was twenty minutes late coming back from lunch and lately, had been making it a habit. There was a good chance he was still over at Hattie’s General chatting it up with the pretty new cashier, Amy Holmes. Lane decided she was going to have a word with her new deputy about punctuality. That is, whenever he got back.

  The phone persistently rang again.

  Noticing the call was coming through the non-emergency line, she half-debated on letting it go to voicemail. It was most likely a traffic violation complaint or a description of some bored youth graffiti tagging everything in sight. If Caleb was around, she was sure it would be something he could handle. But since he wasn’t…. She sighed heavily, frowning down at her paperwork.

  The report, which she was eager to finish, detailed a dispute at the bowling alley the night before. A fist fight, which consisted of two black eyes, one broken nose, and a large bump on the head. Plus, a very warped and bent bowling trophy.

  The bowling debacle, also happen to be the first bit of action she’d seen in the last six months. When she had arrived last spring, with the sheriff’s office still under construction, she’d found herself immediately embroiled in a murder investigation. Obviously new to the island, she’d been at a disadvantage, unfamiliar with the close-knit community. With help, she’d discovered the murderer and managed to barely escape becoming a victim herself.

  Months later, not much had happened in the way of action. She knew it shouldn’t be something to complain about. After all, her job was to keep the peace. But…

  The phone shrilled again.

  With a huff, she snatched the phone off its cradle.

  “Rockfish Island Sheriff's Department. How can I help you?” she answered, trying to leave all annoyance out of her tone.

  “Yes. I'd like, ahh...I want to report a missing person… woman, please.” A male's voice came over the phone, hesitant and uncertain. Lane could hear a female in the background, a high-pitched voice telling him what he should say next. He continued, “Okay, okay. I'll tell them. Just a second! Hello? Is there someone I can talk to?”

  “This is Sheriff Lane. I can help you. Who is missing, how old are they, and for how long?” She hunched her shoulder, holding the phone to her ear and opened the large bottom drawer of her desk, rifling through the files for a missing person form.

  “Janielle Engels. Uh, twenty-three years old. Missing for seven days?” The man’s voice suddenly sounded muffled as he conferred with the person off line, “Yes. Seven days.”

  “And why do you think she’s missing, sir?” Lane’s eyes were drawn to the front door as it opened and Deputy Pickens walked through with a whistled tune on his lips.

  At her withering glare, he stopped short, his lips still puckered, and winced. He then took a sheepish glance at his wristwatch and quickly heading straight to his desk.

  “She hasn’t called into work for the last two days. She was supposed to deliver some photos on Tuesday over here in Seattle, after the Labor Day holiday. She never showed up. I mean…I didn’t think much of it at the time. Just thought she decided to take an extra day off. But when she missed our meeting today. I, WE went to her apartment. I thought maybe she was home with the flu or something. She didn’t come to the door and her neighbors say they haven’t seen her.”

  “Maybe she’s still out of town and traveling?” Lane suggested. “A lot of people travel on Labor Day weekend. Have you called the hospitals? In case there was a car accident?”

  “We did and if I thought she was just on the road, believe me, I wouldn’t be giving you a call.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “You're not understanding. I was the one who gave her a ride to the ferry so she could get to the island. Her car is still parked at her apartment. This isn’t like her,” The man’s voice had grown desperate and impatient.

  “So, this missing person, Janielle Engles? Why was she coming to visit Rockfish Island?”

  “She goes by Janie. She went to the island for a job assignment and to visit her aunt. A Mrs. Carter?”

  Lane figured the caller was speaking of Sue Carter, the owner of the island’s Antique shop and the town’s flirtatious rich widow. Lane knew Sue, herself, had just gotten back from a trip abroad yesterday. She wondered if the young woman, given the opportunity to go on one of Sue’s European treasure hunts, had played hooky from work. Possibly Sue’s niece was with her? Lane scribbled something on a yellow post-it and then loudly knocked on her office window. Caleb popped his head up and looked behind him. Lane held up the bright post-it.

  It read: Call Sue Carter. Find out if her niece Janie is with her.

  Caleb rapidly shook his head “NO”. Knowing his hesitation, Lane sighed heavily.

  Cougar Carter, as the town had dubbed Sue because of her age and unquenchable man-eating ways, had most likely accosted the young deputy once or twice already. Ten to one, the young man had no interest in being propositioned again.

  Lane swiftly scribbled on the post-it and slammed it back up against the window with a determined look on her face. NOW!!! had been added to the bottom of the post-it.

  Caleb gave a look of surrender and turned back around obediently, begrudgingly picking up the phone to make the requested call.

  “What is your name, sir?” Lane brought her full attention back to the phone conversation.

  “Jim Evans. I’m her agent. I helped arrange the assignment on the island. She’s a photographer.” Jim cleared his throat. “She was supposed to get a few pictures of the island’s mountain goats and then come back to Seattle the Thursday before Labor Day weekend.”

  “So, what day did you drop her off at the ferry?”

  “Monday, August 27th. Late afternoon, around four. We’d planned to pick her up at the ferry dock on this side, but she never came off the ferry. I’d assumed she’d come home early and took a cab. Or decided to stay longer with her aunt.”

  “Today is September
4th. No one has talked to her since last Monday?”

  “No, Sheriff. And her cell phone goes straight to voicemail,” Jim said hurriedly, and then added “I probably should have called sooner.”

  Caleb, his cheeks a high color of red, knocked on her window partition and said through the glass.

  “Coug….um, Mrs. Carter says she got into town last night. Hasn’t seen her niece since she left for her trip last week. The niece was staying at her house while Mrs. Carter was gone. She’s curious to know why you want to know and would like you to give her a call.”

  Lane frowned and gave her deputy a brief nod. She addressed her next question to the current caller.

  “Mr. Evans, was Janie planning on staying with her aunt the whole visit?”

  “That was the plan.”

  “Mr. Evans, I’m going to need a description of Janie.”

  “Sure. She’s around five-six. Athletic. Brown hair, about to her shoulders. Brown, no…blue eyes. I guess, about a hundred and twenty-five pounds? Very attractive.”

  “Ethnicity?”

  “Caucasian.”

  “Last seen wearing?”

  “Blue jeans, red hoodie, and flip flops. Had her camera case with her and a stuffed yellow backpack.”

  “Any birthmarks, scars, tattoos?”

  “Her tongue is pierced. Couldn’t say about tattoos. Nothing visible at least.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Evans. Let me get your number and I’ll make some phone calls. Get in touch with Mrs. Carter and hopefully have some good news for you.” Lane jotted down his contact information and hung up the phone. She quickly picked it up again and dialed the number for the antique shop. She had a brief and to the point conversation with Sue, promising very much the same thing she had to Mr. Evans.

  When she hung up the phone this time, Lane’s face was pensive and thoughtful. There was a light knock on her open door.

  “Sorry about being late from lunch.” Caleb walked around the glass partition and into her office, his stocky figure filling the doorway. His dark hair, which he wore longer than she liked, was swept to the side across his forehead. “I was over at Hattie’s and just lost track of time. Amy was telling me about this funny—”