“Can you listen so I can keep you safe?” Brex held Clara back.

“So you can interrogate Mrs. Talon?”

The lady looked confused and a little annoyed.

Brex arched an eyebrow. “She claims she hikes the trails alone almost every day.”

“I do,” Mrs. Talon said.

“Then why haven’t we seen her on any of our many hikes?” Brex folded his arms across his chest.

“Because I’ve been recovering from a double mastectomy and chemotherapy,” Mrs. Talon flung at him. “Today is the first day I felt well enough in almost eight weeks to come to my mountain sanctuary.”

“Oh.” Brex’s eyes widened, and he backed closer to Clara. “Oh.”

“It’s true,” Clara told him quietly. “She has stage four breast cancer.”

“Oh, man.” Brex pushed a hand through his hair and held it palm up. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She gave Clara a fleeting smile. “I’ll just … continue on my hike.”

“I apologize again,” Brex said.

She nodded, turned, and headed up the trail, her steps slower than Clara had seen them on hikes previous to her treatments.

Brex leaned against the rock wall. “Oh, man. That went well.” He flicked his wrist and glanced at his watch.

“At least you’re safe. I was flipping out. You can’t just go running away and risk getting pushed off a cliff.” She gestured to her right and leaned closer to the safety of the rock wall, tugging on his arm as her stomach twisted again.

He frowned. “I just want to draw this guy out. I don’t know how you’ve dealt with not knowing if there is a murderer and who it could be for years.”

“It’s been rough. I really appreciate your help. Sorry you interrogated Mrs. Talon.” She smiled to try to lighten the mood.

“Me too. Awkward.” He rolled his eyes. “Are you okay to keep going, or should we head down?”

“Can we head down, please?” Her stomach was nauseous, her skin cold and clammy. Seeing Brex next to the cliff was too much. For now he was safe, but she couldn’t shake that feeling of concern. If it had been the murderer and not Mrs. Talon …

She peeked over the edge of the game-ending drop-off. Her stomach pitched and bile climbed her throat. The gruesome pictures played through her mind … Harrison, Kyle, Malik … each unmoving, lifeless. Why did they have to die?

Clara focused on Brex’s face. She loved him, even if he didn’t love her back, and she would lose him just like she’d lost the others.

Brex gave her an encouraging smile and gestured her forward. She wanted him to go first so she could see he was safe, but she was too sick to her stomach to protest.

She put one foot in front of the other, moving slowly. The yawning cliff mocked her. It would suck Brex away from her, batter his body, take his spirit.

She glanced over her shoulder. He was okay. For the moment.

Cold chills covered her body, and she trembled. Bile rose up her throat again.

Finally, finally, they reached a spot where the trail widened and moved away from the cliff face.

Drained and horrified, Clara dropped to her knees on the path. Vomit rose in her throat, choking her. Tears raced down her cheeks as she spewed.

“Clara!” Brex dropped next to her and held her as her body heaved. The comfort of his strong arms was exactly what she needed.

When her stomach finally settled, he pulled out her water bottle. She rinsed and spit and then took a long drink. He helped her to her feet, and they shuffled together down the trail. A few minutes later, they reached a safe spot that didn’t smell of vomit.

“Clara. Are you all right?” He tugged her close and held her in his arms.