Page 3 of Storm Warning

His hesitation gave her the chance she needed. She sprang forward and snatched him, careful not to crush his small body while still maintaining her grip. Barking and biting, he tried to wriggle free, his sharp little teeth sinking into her thumb, but she ignored the pain and held him against her. “I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

Rushing forward out of the water’s reach, she gently tucked Paco inside her heavy raincoat to keep him warm. The terrier seemed to finally trust her, or he succumbed to exhaustion, but either way, he settled against her inside the coat. His trembling form reminded her of her own predicament.

Their predicament.

Remi pressed her back against the cliff, then raced toward the rocky outcropping that could trap her and block her escape to the staircase up to Cedar Trails Lodge at the top of the bluff. Waves washed back out to the ocean, but she saw now what she’d feared. The tide had already come in, blocking her way to the steps to safety.

So she turned and headed north in search of a place on the cliff where she could find traction and climb higher. Rescue crews would be hard-pressed to reach her in time out here, and she couldn’t afford to wait for help.

Her radio squawked. She fished it out of her pocket. “I got him. I just need a way out.”

“Use Jo’s ladder!” Erika’s voice sounded garbled over the radio.

“Roger that.”

Jo had secured a rope ladder at the end of the campsites in case of an emergency until they could build another set of actual steps, but Remi had never found a need to use it. They’d always been adamant about when the beach was safe and when it was not safe, especially in the winter months,during the storms that people came to the lodge to watch. Today, someone had violated those rules.

Paco squirmed inside her jacket, and she continued to speak to him in soothing tones. The cold wind knocked into her, bringing salty, cold spray along with it as she jogged forward. Polished rocks—large and small—made up most of the beach and were a tripping hazard if she didn’t watch where she stepped. Half jogging, half slow-stepping, she made her way to a patch of wet, gray sand.

She should almost be near where the campsite ended on top of the bluff, and she paused to stare up the cliff face. Jagged edges melded with patches of dirt and bedrock, and at the top, loamy earth and thick evergreens. In places along the coast, the cliffs were as high as a hundred and fifty feet. Here, it was half that. Still...

Tidewater rushed around her ankles, reminding her that time was slipping away, along with her way out of this.

There...

She spotted the marine rope ladder that Jo had secured for the unfortunate scenario of getting trapped by the tide. Her heart jumped with hope.

But to get to the ladder, Remi had to traverse significant piles of driftwood stacked against the cliff. Sighing, she rushed forward, weaving her way around the large, pale tree trunks, some of them massive, which meant she’d have to climb over them. She stepped over one driftwood log after another, slid down between two larger ones, then crawled over the last log.

Once the water started rushing in, she’d have more to worry about than sneaker waves or breakers that could smash her against these rocks. She would be crushed by the driftwood.

She stood at the bottom of the cliff and looked up.

That Jo had assembled a rope ladder to span the distancewas impressive, but it didn’t hang low enough for Remi to reach.

She peeked inside her coat. “I’m going to need you to stay still, okay?” He wasn’t going to like it, but she had no choice. She secured him in the inside pocket of her coat, grateful he was small enough, zipped it closed, then tightened the bottom of her jacket. She fastened it completely up to her neck and secured the snap, then pulled her hood tighter—all of this just in case he clawed or chewed his way out of her pocket.

“Hold on, Paco.” She jumped for the rope.

Jumped again.

Then she pulled a small chunk of driftwood over and balanced on it. Just one last jump. She reached with both hands and caught the bottom rung. Then pulled on it and walked along the rocks until she could gain traction with one foot, then the other.

Calisthenics.She’d done her share of them in the past, but clearly, she needed to beef up her exercise routine. Muscles straining, she climbed the ladder, which she realized didn’t have anchor points. Once she got out of this, she and Jo would have a long talk.

“Hang in there. I’m climbing this ladder, Paco, and before you know it, you’ll be safe in your momma’s arms.”

Despite the cold temps and buffeting winds, sweat trickled down the middle of her back. She was halfway there.

We’re going to make it.

The ladder suddenly dropped a few inches. Her heart rate jumped.

Pulse soaring, eyes shut, she held on as the rope swung out and slapped against the bedrock. At least it had held.

Holding on tight, she stared up. What was going on? No time to ponder that question. This thing was slipping for some reason she couldn’t fathom. She gripped the rope.Stepped on another rung, pushing through the fear of falling and breaking her body against the rocks or driftwood.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

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