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Prologue
Lexie Bowen had chewed her bottom lip for a full twenty minutes before she noticed the ache.
Almost there.
Any other day she might have enjoyed the drive, meandering smoothly down the familiar winding road, the North Atlantic stretching out to the east, endless acres of Arcane Island’s infamous wilderness to the west. But the ghastly October cold snap, coupled with the gradually tightening knot in her stomach, had Lexie gripping the wheel so hard her knuckles blanched. At just past three in the afternoon, traffic was non-existent; as was the salt truck apparently, the road slick with an icy rain that had been falling since noon.
Take your time, honey.
Her father’s calming words echoed through her mind, and she swallowed hard against the ever-present lump in her throat. Her eyes prickled with unshed tears. Her heart ached with unsaid words.
As she rounded a bend, the downpour strengthened. Lexie braked gently, flicking the wipers on as fast as they would go and scrunching her face as the road ahead blurred.
Today had been hard. She had known it would be. Watching them lower the casket into the cold ground had broken her heart. Meeting Kyle’s sorrowful gaze across the cemetery had been even worse. She’d been avoiding his calls for days, only listening to the messages he left—offering condolences, a shoulder to cry on, whatever she needed.
Lexie wanted none of it. Not from him.
She may not have the support of her father behind her anymore, but she’d be damned if she’d disappoint him from beyond the grave by going back to the nightmare that was her spontaneously stupid marriage.
Plus, she still had Jake.
Her brother had stood tall and strong beside her, hands in his pockets during the service, holding her when she couldn’t keep it together any longer. Burying the man who’d singlehandedly raised them tore him up inside, she knew. Yet he’d remained stone-faced and distant throughout the whole thing. She couldn’t blame him. It was probably easier that way.
Afraid she might start to cry again, something that would be more than hazardous given current circumstances, Lexie sniffed, lifted her chin in quiet defiance, and pressed on. For safety’s sake, she refused to think about it—any of it.
She tried to move as slowly and cautiously as possible through the storm; had she not, she might have missed the scattered signage and upturned traffic cones in the brush as she crossed the bridge over Tolsack River. They were doing some kind of construction, but evidently the crew was gone for the day. Based on the weather, she could see why. Only one lane of the bridge was open to traffic. The other was cordoned off by bright orange-and-white striped barricades.
“What the—”
As she eased her way across to the other side of the small bridge, she squinted at the scene, barely visible through the fogged up, water-speckled window, and slowed to a stop.
Probably a gust of wind knocked the signs over, she told herself, tempted to continue; but something about the way they were so violently spread out had her instinctively sidling up to the side of the road to take a closer look. She checked her rearview mirror to ensure no cars were coming, and made a U-turn, parking off the edge of the road, the final Lane Closed sign directly in front of her bumper.
Craning her neck, unable to drive any closer for fear she’d get herself stuck and then be in real trouble, Lexie strained to get a clear view of things. She tsked in frustration. She didn't want to leave the warm, dry sanctuary of her car.
What if someone had crashed? It certainly looked like something big had plowed right through most of the roadblocks. As she looked closer, she could also see fresh tread marks carved out in the grass, leading straight over the edge of the riverbank, disappearing into a sea of pine and elm.
“Crap.”
She unclipped her seatbelt, grabbed her rain jacket from the passenger seat and pulled it on before killing the engine. Securing the hood over her head, she opened the door and stepped out. Water hit her like a wall, heavy and unyielding. The frosty breeze teased strands of hair out from her hood and plastered them to her face as she trudged through the sopping grass to the edge of the bank. Sure enough, right at the bottom, about twenty yards down, was a car. A black SUV sat smashed and crumpled against the trunk of a tree at the edge of the flooding river.
“Oh, god.”
Lexie stood stunned, unsure what to do, then as if a bolt of lightning had struck her, she raced back to her car. Flinging the door open, she dove in, grabbed her cell phone, and, with shaking hands, dialed nine-one-one.
Reception was patchy along this stretch of road at the best of times. One faint, lonely bar told her she’d be lucky to get a call through at all. Still, she kept trying, again and again. Nothing.
Cursing her luck, she flew across the rickety bridge, her footfalls splashing puddles up and around her legs, and climbed down toward the vehicle as fast as she could manage.
“Hello?” She grappled with the steep descent, mud coating her boots and pants. “Is someone down there?”
Between her labored pants of effort and panic, she thought she heard a groan coming from the car.
“Hold on! I’m coming down.”
When she finally scrambled to the bottom, where the steep wall gave way to more level footing, she fought through a web of broken branches and approached the vehicle from behind with a tight, dry feeling in her throat. She held back. Judging by the wreckage in front of her, she had the dreadful sense that someone might have died. The back of the car was raised high, trees and shrubs stuffed tightly beneath. It appeared that had been what had stopped it from skidding head-on into the water. With a deep breath, Lexie wedged herself in where she could see into the smashed front passenger window. Her stomach clenched. She felt her heart stop.
There was a man inside. His face was covered with blood that oozed from an angry cut on his forehead. He lay limp against the steering wheel, where it seemed the airbag had deflated, leaving him helplessly dangling from the seatbelt that clung to his chest like a noose.
