“Would you like see the top of the falls, where Jasmine went over?” Claire said. “And where my dad climbed down? We can drive the rig to that point and then continue along the logging road around to the base, where I’ll put the boat in and ferry you across the river. Much shorter across the water than driving all the way back to the lodge then around the lake.”
“Please. And, Claire, thank you.”
She smiled broadly. “My pleasure. This is kinda fun.”
Angie followed her guide back up the hiking trail to the logging road. All the while something Claire had said niggled at her brain. It bothered Angie that she couldn’t pinpoint why she had this feeling that something was off.
I wouldn’t try to go right to the edge of the bank there. It really is very slippery. You’d need the right boots. And even so ...
Angie and Claire stood on a rock plateau above the booming falls, condensation wetting their faces and forming droplets on their jackets.
Below them the smooth green waters of the Nahamish disappeared into cloud like an infinity pool.
Angie felt anxiety rise inside her chest. It was tense, just standing here in the face of this thundering power, thinking of the unstoppable force, the terror of being sucked up in it, being pulled inexorably toward that precipice knowing you might be smashed to death before you could even drown. Helpless to do anything to save yourself. Yet utterly desperate to live.
Claire pointed to a fern-choked cliff glistening with moisture. “My dad told us he climbed down over there after he saw her go over.”
Angie looked to where Claire was indicating.
“When did he tell you this?” She had to speak loudly over the boom of water.
“The other night. After he got news that the skeleton had been identified as his client from twenty-four years ago. He was upset,” Claire said. “He needed to talk it through with me and my mom. He climbed down that cliff with no ropes, nothing. He was desperate to save her.”
“Dangerous,” Angie said, her stomach bottoming out as she imagined herself trying to negotiate that slick rock face alongside that roaring water. Jessie Carmanagh was right. Garrison Tollet could have lost his life trying to help Jasmine Gulati. From where they stood, Angie could also see the tiny bay right before the edge of the falls. She could see the way the current was swirling through there. A massive old tree had fallen into that tiny bay, and debris was stacking up against it.
“There’ve been fatalities here before,” Claire said. “Suspected suicides, some of them, where people drove from the city all the way out here to throw themselves into that water. It’s so strange.”
Angie nodded. “It’s not that unusual. Someone wanting to commit suicide often doesn’t want to leave behind a mess at home for their loved ones to clean up. So they go just far enough into the wilderness. Mayne Island is one of those places,” she said. “One of the first stops along the ferry route from the populated mainland. Close yet remote enough. People often get off the boat and just go missing in the forests there.” Angie wiped her wet face as she spoke, the movement of her hand drawing Claire’s attention.
The young woman nodded toward Angie’s hand. “That’s new, the diamond,” Claire said. “Engagement?”
Angie forced a smile, feeling a pang of remorse over her break with Maddocks. She’d kept the ring on after the jewelry store because it was safer on her finger than on the thin chain around her neck, and she’d driven straight from the city up the island.
“Observant,” she said, offering no further comment on the state of their relationship.
Claire laughed. “That’s an easy one for me. A fishing guide who carefully watches people’s hands working their lines notices such things. You weren’t wearing it on your last trip. Have you set a date for the wedding?”
April twenty-seventh. It’s a Saturday. The cherry blossoms will be out. The streets will be all pink and white.
Angie felt an unbidden frisson of excitement at the thought of Ginny’s words, the thought of that dress.
“No,” she said. “Not yet.” But by damn, she suddenly wanted to blurt out to this young woman,Yes. I’m getting married in the spring. That alone was a revelation to Angie. She really wanted this. On some very deep level, she knew this was so right. An impatience sparked through her body—she wanted to get this case over with. Get back and see him. Tell him she was certain, that she now saw a way forward with her job. Plan a future. Together.Ifit was still what he wanted.
Because as she stood here at the edge of this waterfall thinking of what Ginny had told her—that she’d made a difference in people’s lives—it struck Angie between the eyes what she’d been running from. Fear of rejection, being abandoned, tossed into an angel’s cradle. Fear of not being valued. While she had in fact decided at some point over the past year that she wanted Maddocks in her life, a subterranean fear of rejection still lingered. She hadn’t fully trusted his love. In testing him, subconsciously perhaps, she’d driven him to draw his line in the sand. It was so simple, and now that she suddenly saw it so clearly, the paradigm of her world had shifted.
“So did Maddocks get down on one knee?” Claire asked with a grin.
The thought brought a genuine smile to Angie’s face. “He might have if he’d had a chance. He had one set of proposal plans that kinda morphed into another when Budge Hargreaves appeared on the bank yelling about a skeleton.” She hesitated then said, “He proposed that night while we camped near the moss grave and listened to hungry wolves howling in the hills. Romantic, huh?”
Claire’s smile faded, and a seriousness entered her eyes. “I dunno. Sounds romantic to me. And kinda perfect for a homicide cop and his PI.”
“Well, it wassupposedto have been slightly more elegant, back at the lodge with a fire and wine and a warm bed and a hot tub on the deck.”
“Either way, I’m happy for you guys. Congratulations. You two really seem suited to each other.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really. I hope I’m as lucky one day.”
