Rachelle McCalla - Survival Instinct

The first book in the Survival Instinct series, 2010

Thank you to the congregation of Bayfield Presbyterian Church for calling us to Bayfield. I would never have known there was a Devils Island if it hadnt been for you.

Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this book. Im honored.

Thank you to Emily Rodmell, for believing my manuscript could become a book.

And to Ms. Henre, for making me learn English.

And most importantly, to Jesus Christ, who brought me to this place. Only You know what it cost to get me here. Thank You.

Someone was watching her. Abby Caldwell clutched her keys and hastened her steps, reminding herself that for all the times shed felt eyes on her over the past few weeks, shed never actually seen anyone. For all she knew, the feeling was a figment of her imagination. Perhaps she was overworked and in need of a vacation.

Abby reached her back door and jammed the key in the lock. Shed half twisted the knob when a huge hand covered hers. A voice she thought shed left behind years before rumbled above her ear. Hey, Abby.

He must have seen she was about to scream, because his other hand immediately covered her mouth. Dont get too excited. I just want to talk. He pulled his hand slowly away from her mouth.

Abby swallowed her cry and nodded, even though she didnt believe him. Trevor Price never just wanted to talk.

She tried to make her voice sound light, to play along. I thought the Coast Guard had you stationed somewhere else. Near Canada?

I was. His voice sounded even more menacing than she remembered it. Ive been back for a few months now. Im surprised you havent seen me. Ive seen plenty of you.

So she hadnt imagined the feeling of being watched. If the six-foot-five-inch gorilla hadnt been holding her wrist so tightly, she might have accused him of stalking her. Instead she asked in a whisper, What do you want?

The ring.

Her heart beat so hard she thought shed choke. I dont have it, she told him honestly. She hadnt had it in years-not since shed buried it, along with all its bitter memories, in the spot where hed proposed to her on Devils Island.

Well, then, find it. Trevor trailed one finger down the side of her cheek, his icy eyes holding hers. Or Ill have to come look for it myself.

Abby pinched her eyes shut. Trevor was a bully, that was all. And he couldnt bully her without her permission. She opened her eyes and stared him down.

Why do you need it? Why now? Its been what-six years?

His hand loosened slightly at her wrist. Five. And that ring never should have been yours. I never should have proposed to you.

Finally, something they could both agree on. Their entire relationship had been the biggest mistake of her life, but she thought shed put it behind her.

As she watched with fearful eyes wide, Trevor lifted Abbys left hand up in front of her face. He pinched her ring finger and slowly bent it back.

It fit perfectly, didnt it? Trevors mouth hovered close to her ear. He pulled her finger back farther, and she blinked back tears. Return the ring to me within forty-eight hours, or you wont have anywhere to wear it.

But, I dont- she started to protest.

Find it! He jerked her finger back until she thought it would snap. You have two days. With that, he dropped her hands, let her go and strode away.

Abby hurried to unlock her door and slid inside, locking it after her before Trevor could change his mind and come back. Then she leaned against the door frame and flexed her fingers, the lowest joint of her ring finger throbbing where Trevor had wrenched it.

She wasnt sure exactly what his threat meant, but she knew Trevor Price enough to know he wouldnt have any qualms about following through with it. If she didnt get the ring to him within two days, hed cut off her finger-or worse.

The dark gray-blue water faded to the blue sky as the speedboat Helene cleared the western side of Bear Island and entered the open water of Lake Superior. Abby Caldwell shivered and pulled her jacket more snugly around her, glad shed opted for the fleece-lined windbreaker instead of a sweater. October could be cold in northern Wisconsin, and it was invariably colder on the lake. Shed hoped this Saturday would turn out warm, but it was already midmorning and the sun had yet to peek out of the clouds.

Captain Sal steered the Helene east, at cross-angles with the waves that were higher here away from the protection of the islands. Abby felt the rhythmic slap, slap, slap as each wave smacked the twenty-foot craft, jarring her already nervous stomach. If she didnt fear Trevor Price so much, she would never be out on the deadly Gitche Gumee this late in the season.

She could see the autumn colors of Devils Island in the distance, and though shed never liked the island, she was glad to see it now. The sooner she got there, the sooner shed be off the stomach-rocking boat and onto solid ground. And the sooner shed be able to get the ring and Trevor out of her life for good.

Abby said a silent calming prayer and glanced over at the other passengers. Shed shared water taxi rides with tourists before, and was thankful to find this group less talkative than many. She wasnt in the mood to chat. To her relief, the three tourists were looking ahead to the island and appeared to have forgotten she was even with them. Abby squinted at the figure in the Northwoods College ball cap, the one closest to the boats tiny cabin, the one with the broad shoulders and square set jaw.

She recognized him. It had been nine years since shed last seen him, and though his face had grown firmer with age, the sight of him still set her insides quivering with awareness. Scott Frasier had been the star quarterback of the Northwoods College football team the year theyd almost won the championship, the only year theyd made it to the play-offs in college history. Everybody from Northwoods College knew Scott Frasier. According to the schools alumni magazine, he was a psychologist of some sort in the Twin Cities area now.

Scott wouldnt recognize her. Shed only been a freshman his senior year, and seniors never bothered with freshmen, even if they had been in the same poetry class fall semester, and often ended up in the same discussion group. In some ways, she was glad he wouldnt remember her, and equally grateful the noise of the boat and wind discouraged conversation. She didnt want to have to explain what she was doing on this trip.

The other two, a man and woman who looked to be in their early fifties, were probably Scotts parents. The woman looked like him, anyway, with the same statuesque height and aquiline nose. The man was certainly shorter, softer, rounder, but the way he clung on to the womans side, he was bound to be her husband. Her fingers were covered with diamonds, and the particularly huge stone on the ring finger of her left hand matched the setting of the masculine ring he wore.

Coming about, Captain Sal announced, his voice thick with a Wisconsin brogue. There had been a time when the accent would have sounded foreign to her ears, but after nearly a decade in northern Wisconsin, Abby would have probably pronounced it much the same way. She watched carefully as he steered the craft well wide of the southern tip of the island, knowing that even on the sandy side, boulders hid just below the surface, ready to scrape their underside and send the