A responsible searcher would stick to the trail, continue the grid search pattern and trust the process. But her gut, her finely honed instincts, whispered otherwise.
She shifted her weight, testing the stability of the narrow ledge she stood on. The ridge was higher, steeper, the approach riddled with loose scree and blind turns. A fall here wouldn’t just hurt—it could kill her.
But what if she ignored the glint only to find later that she could have saved the Millers by investigating? Besides, the view from the ridge was spectacular and she’d never backed down from a challenge.
Her pulse kicked up a beat.
“West checking in,” she said into her radio. “Following up on possible evidence off trail. Will report findings in fifteen.”
“Negative, West.” Dispatch’s voice crackled. “You need to maintain your assigned route—”
She clicked off. If Reynolds wanted to reprimand her later, fine. But she wasn’t about to let Bonner get the upper hand. The promotion they both wantedshouldgo to the best candidate. Her. But she’d always had to prove herself by being twice as good.
Always. Even now, in this moment.
The rock face offered plenty of handholds, but the sandstone was brittle, prone to breaking away without warning. Sabrina tested each grip carefully before committing her weight, hyperaware that she was alone up here.
No backup, no safety net.
Her father’s voice echoed in her head:Pride makes you careless, and careless gets you killed.
She pushed the thought away and kept climbing. Bonner had found his missing group; she’d find hers. Period.
Near the top, the terrain leveled off into a small plateau, offering a sweeping view of the canyon below. The glint turned out to be a bracelet, thin silver catching the weak sunlight filtering through the clouds. Sabrina moved closer, her pulse quickening as she spotted something else partially hidden behind a boulder.
A woman’s body lay crumpled on the ground, blonde hair fanned out like a halo against the dirt.
She wasn’t moving, her limbs spread at odd angles.
Sabrina sprinted toward her, already reaching for the first aid kit at her belt. Two fingers pressed against the woman’s neck confirmed what she’d feared—no pulse, skin cool to the touch.
Heart on jackhammer mode, Sabrina cataloged the woman’s features. Early twenties, delicate build, wearing only jeans and a light sweater. No coat, no hiking boots, no gear. Definitely not Sarah Miller, who was a brunette, according to her permit photo.
Blinking, Sabrina tried to recall if she’d ever seen this woman around Dark Canyon but came up blank.
“Dispatch, this is West.” She kept her voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through her system. “I’ve got deceased human remains near marker—”
The ground shuddered beneath her feet, cutting off her words. A deep rumble filled the air as the rock itself seemed to come alive around her, tumbling and wheeling.
Earthquake.
Not uncommon in this region, but the timing couldn’t have been worse.
Sabrina lunged for more stable ground as loose rock began to cascade down the cliff face. The radio squawked with voices she couldn’t make out over the sound of shifting earth. She pressed herself against the canyon wall, her throat tight as a shower of rock and debris rolled and bounced over the body she’d just discovered.
A woman. That body was a woman, a person. A dead one, but she must have people who cared about her. Who would want to know what had happened to her. Plus, she hadn’t wound up out here in the wilderness by herself, not this far out with no coat.
If she’d been the victim of foul play, the body held all the evidence.
And now she was disappearing under tons of unstable rock.
Hands shaking, Sabrina palmed her radio again. “Dispatch, come in. We have a situation. The quake triggered a major rockslide.” She swallowed hard, steadying her voice. “The body is now under significant debris. I need search and rescue, excavation equipment—”
Another tremor hit, smaller but enough to send more rocks tumbling. Sabrina flattened herself against the wall, breathing in the acrid dust. The plateau she stood on felt suddenly precarious, like a table missing a leg.
Any wrong move could bring the whole thing down. On her.
She would be buried, just like the Jane Doe she’d found. Only she’d be alive when it happened.
