Page 8 of Storm Warning
Her eyes widened. “I remember now. You left a message for me about running a helicopter tour package out of the lodge.” She pressed a hand to her head. “I’ve had so much on my plate, making sure everything at the lodge is ready for the biggest series of storms in more than a decade.”
A half-grin erupted. He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but he would. “And like you said, you owe me.”
“I said that, didn’t I?” She quirked a grin.
Cute. But that was no answer.
“At least give me a chance. You’ve got nothing to lose.” The idea had popped into his head only a couple of weeks ago. After all, he had his own bird, and it would give him the freedom to stay on top of his personal mission to search for answers.
“I tell you what.” Her eyes met his. “I’ll give you a chance to convince me.”
Seriously? He hadn’t thought it would be so difficult and figured she would jump on the opportunity. He’d heard a few complaints about the lodge experience—not that he would share that with her right now. But some complained that there wasn’t much to do here other than walk on the beach. To his way of thinking, the beach should be enough—with the sea stacks and cliffs, driftwood. What more could a person want? Except maybe a helicopter tour of the region.
He scratched his temple. “Challenge accepted.”
“Right. Well, the thing is, it’s quiet here,” she said. “The noisy rotors kind of ruin that.”
Hmm. If noise was her only complaint, he could work with that.
“Obviously you’re not flying during this storm, so let’s meet again on this topic next week.” She drew in a breath. Hesitated. “Plus, I need to know a little more about you.”
Again, that guarded look in her eyes, and it increased his own questions about her.
Remi’s radio squawked. “Remi?”
She gave Hawk an apologetic look. “Excuse me.” Then spoke into the radio. “Go ahead, Dylan.”
“Jo isn’t responding on the radio and one of the doors on Cabin 10 is stuck.”
“I’ll find her. Thanks for letting me know.” Remi stood and looked at Hawk. “I need to get back to work. Enjoy your cabin stay, and we’ll talk more on the other side of the storms.”
Then she left him sitting there, watching her walk away. She was as mesmerizing as the ocean tempests. Hawk shook his head. What had gotten into him? Nothing good, that’s what. He pulled his gaze away and focused on nature’s show through the window. Usually, the skies were flat and gray this time of year, but dark, angry clouds were rolling in fast. He stared out the window, taking his time to process everything she’d said.
She wanted to know a little more about him. Understandable. And that’s what he could offer her—alittlemore. And with her guarded expression, maybe he needed to know more abouther. But he wouldn’t pry.
He left Cedar Trails Lodge and walked back to his cabin. The path was lined with the towering forest, including old-growth Pacific red cedars, the ground covered with a plethora of underbrush and sword ferns. The Bluff Cabin where he stayed was the last cabin along this trail, and four cabins away from the lodge. He’d lucked out getting the one right on the bluff so he could actually watch the storm. Others were tucked in the woods around him, but not close enough to actually see the forces of nature in action from the safety of their cozy dwelling.
Inside, the cabin shook and rattled with the gusts, andHawk began to question his decision to stay here, right over the bluff. He’d noticed signs of erosion. Years in the future, this cabin would probably be gone.
That was the perfect metaphor to describe his own slowly eroding life. He assumed that most everyone was already holed up. High wind warnings were in effect, and he should hunker down like the rest of the guests. Or should he drive into the county seat and report what he’d seen of the rope? But who was to say that he hadn’t been the one to cause the trouble? It would be just his word.
And right now, he doubted his word was any good when it came to law enforcement.
3
Lodge guests gathered around the fireplace or lingered at the windows overlooking the ocean and the strengthening storm, and all was as it should be. She entered her office that was tucked down a long hallway, then closed the door behind her. Finally alone, she paused to catch her breath.
To think back.
Hawk Beckett had saved her life. Never mind that the situation could have been avoided. It happened. But those last few moments—he’d been reaching for her.
She’d seen ... the desert? She’d had a flashback of the missing days. That had to be it.
Was that good or bad? Remembering should be a good thing.
She wanted to remember. Sheneededto remember.
Dr. Lindie Holcomb, the clinical neuropsychologist who specialized in memory disorders and brain trauma, had explained that causes of amnesia were either psychological or neurological. The mind versus the brain. In Remi’s case, she had experienced a perfect storm—she had incurred abrain injury to go along with a traumatic event. Remi loved the acronyms—TBI and PTSD.
