Page 37 of In the Dead of Night

Nick heaved as hard as he could. Her shoulders emerged. He scrambled back, using his weight to pull her full length onto the rock.

Relief made his muscles go slack. For several seconds the only sounds came from their labored breathing and the crash of the surf below.

Because he was angry, Nick didn’t go to her right away. Instead, he focused that burst of energy on the person who’d pushed her off the cliff. The thought of someone hurting her—trying to kill her—filled him with a cold and dangerous rage. Reaching for his weapon, he rose and scanned the area. He wanted to go in search of the son of a bitch; he wanted to smash his face with his fist. But Nick needed to calm down and make sure she was all right first.

Next to him, Sara struggled to her hands and knees. Her hair hung wetly in her face. Her clothes were soaked and covered with mud. When she looked up at him, the pale cast of her complexion and the blood dripping down her forehead unsettled him.

“Let me help you.” Setting his hands beneath her arms, he helped her rise. She was small within his grip, her entire body trembling violently. “Easy does it,” he said.

“Did you see anyone?” Her eyes were already scanning the surrounding brush and the shadows within the trees in the ravine.

“No.” But that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone out there, watching them, waiting.

“There was someone here. A man. I—I followed him from the house. He pushed me.” Her voice shook, the words tumbling out too fast.

“I’ll get a couple of officers out here.” He looked at the cut on her forehead and another wave of anger engulfed him. “Right now I need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. I just…I need to know who did this and why.”

“Sara, you’re cut. Let’s go inside.”

“Oh my God.” She gaped at the last remnants of the name someone had painted in red on the rock. “I know that name.”

“How so?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ve heard it.”

“It’s familiar to me, too. But we’ll have to figure it out later. For now we need to get you inside. That cut looks nasty.”

When she balked, he took her hand and gently tugged her in the direction of the house.

He led her back into the ravine and up the other side. All the while, he kept his eyes on the surrounding underbrush. The line of trees to the east. The thought that someone had tried to kill her never left his mind.

Once inside, Nick locked the door behind them and headed toward the kitchen. Only then did he realize he was shaking nearly as badly as she was. He wanted to blame it on adrenaline or anger or the physical exertion of his sprint into the ravine. But he knew his pounding heart and shaking hands had more to do with Sara and how close she’d come to being seriously hurt—or worse.

Not wanting to examine that too closely, he walked to the sink and ran water from the tap into a glass. He turned to hand it to her, only to find her at the patio door, looking out.

Frowning, he approached her and handed her the glass. “Do you have any idea how crazy it was for you to come here alone?”

“I know. It was stupid. I’m sorry.” Her hand shook when she accepted the glass. “I guess I didn’t think the situation would escalate to something like this.”

“Most people don’t expect to become crime victims.” The words came out more angrily than he had intended. He couldn’t help it. Her coming here alone had been worse than foolhardy. “Damn it, Sara, it could have turned out a hell of a lot worse.”

“It didn’t.” She touched the cut on her forehead, and he shook his head in disbelief.

Because he was dangerously close to losing his temper, he tugged his cell phone from his belt and dialed the police station. B.J. answered on the first ring. “Hey, Chief.”

“I’m out at the old Douglas place. A prowler assaulted Ms. Douglas. I need an officer.” A K-9 unit would have been helpful, but it wasn’t in the Cape Darkwood budget, so he had to settle for a single officer.

“Damn, Chief. Is she okay?”

He scowled at Sara. “She’s fine, but the guy nearly pushed her off the cliff.”

B.J. whistled. “I’ll dispatch Sammy right away.”

Nick thanked him and disconnected. Now that his nerves had settled and the initial burst of fear had ebbed, a controlled anger was setting in. He looked around for a place for her to sit and some decent light so he could see to the gash on her forehead. Since there wasn’t a breakfast table, he crossed to the counter and patted it. “Have a seat and let me take a look at that cut.”

She crossed to the counter. “You’re angry.”