Day of Reckoning. B.J. Daniels
“Go ahead, jump. I don’t care. My mistake for trying to save you from yourself.”
She blinked at him through the mist and rain. “Save me from myself? I wasn’t going to jump.”
“Right. Whatever. Go ahead. Have at it. Believe me, I won’t try to stop you again.” He crossed his arms over his chest. She noticed for the first time that, like her, he wasn’t wearing a coat. His shirt and slacks were soaked. Just as hers were.
“You weren’t trying to push me off the waterfall?”
He glared at her. “Are you crazy? What am I saying? Of course you’re crazy or you wouldn’t be up here in the middle of a damned rainstorm trying to commit suicide. And this is the thanks I get for attempting to save your life.”
“Thanks? You almost killed us both,” she snapped. “And I told you, I wasn’t trying to kill myself.” She shuddered at the thought.
“Uh-huh. You just wanted to get a good look at the waterfall.” He started to turn away. “Well, have a good look. I won’t bother you anymore.”
“I saw someone jump.”
He stopped and turned slowly. “What?”
“I saw someone in a yellow raincoat jump.” She glanced off to the side toward the waterfall, sick with the memory. “That’s why I rushed over here.”
“You saw someone?”
Could his tone be any more mocking?
“I think it was a woman.” Had she caught a glimpse of long blond hair just before the figure disappeared over the top of the falls? “I saw her—” her voice broke “—lean forward and drop over the edge. When I got to the top of the falls, the yellow raincoat she was wearing was in the water below.”
“Uh-huh,” he said and looked around. “And this woman who jumped, where is her car?”
“Right over—”
“That’s my truck. But you ought to know that. You’ve been following me for the past twenty miles.”
She looked past her own car, the engine still running, the interior light on since she’d left her door open in her haste. The headlights sliced a narrow swath of pale gold through the pouring rain and darkness. There were no other vehicles. Just hers. And his. Nor had she seen any other cars on the highway tonight.
“How did this mysterious jumper get out here?” he asked.
She shook her head, confused. The waterfall was too far from anything for anyone to have walked. Especially this time of year in a rainstorm.
“You and I are the only ones out here,” he said.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. She’d seen someone in a bright yellow raincoat, seen the person jump, seen the coat in the water below the falls.
Even back here under the shelter of the large old pine, she could still feel that falling sensation, the roaring in her ears, the warm spray on her face, feel the watery grave far, far below as her feet slipped on the mossy rock.
“You had to have seen her,” Roz said trembling hard now but not from the cold.
“All I saw was you in my side mirror as I started to leave. I saw you throw on your brakes, bolt from your car and run to the edge of the waterfall.”
He’d been watching her? That’s why he hadn’t seen the person in the yellow raincoat. So he’d just been trying to save her? “If I was wrong about your intentions—”
He waved off her apology. “Forget it.”
“We have to call the sheriff.” Even as she said it, she knew no one could have survived that fall into the rocks and water below. It would just be a matter of recovering the body.
“You have a cell phone that works up here?” he asked. “I tried mine when I stopped. No service.”
She shook her head. Of course there wouldn’t be any service up here. “I’ll call the sheriff when I get closer to Timber Falls.”
“You sure you want to do that?”
She rubbed a hand over her wet face, still holding the chunk of wood in the other. She was exhausted, emotionally drained. She leveled her gaze at him. “I did see someone jump.” She didn’t know where the person had come from but she knew what she’d seen.
He shrugged. “Whatever you say.”
She hated his scornful tone. Had he really been trying to save her? Or kill her? If he’d just left her alone, she would have been perfectly fine. She was pretty sure that was true. He was making her doubt everything.
“I have family in Timber Falls,” she said, and hated herself for trying to reassure him that she was the sane one here. “I’m on my way there.”
“If your family lives in Timber Falls, I’d think you would know the road.”
“I wasn’t paying attention. I was following you. And I haven’t been up here in years.” She wouldn’t be here at all if she wasn’t worried about her father. When she’d left ten years before, she’d thought nothing could ever get her back to Timber Falls. And nothing had, not even when her father had remarried, moved back and reopened her childhood home. Until now. “I came up here tonight because—”
“Thanks, but I’d prefer not to know anymore about you,” he said.
“Are you always this disagreeable?” she snapped.
“Actually, I’m trying to be on my best behavior right now.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he said, wringing the water from his shirttail. “You should see me when I’m not.”
“No, thanks.”
“Did I mention that I’m late for a dinner engagement?”
“Then please don’t let me keep you,” she said.
He started backing away from her. “And please don’t thank me for saving your life. Really.”
“No problem. I hadn’t wanted to jump but now that I’ve met you I might change my mind.”
His laugh held little humor as he turned his back on her and stalked through the rain toward the parking lot and his pickup.
She headed for her car, still gripping the chunk of wood just in case he was a psycho killer and planned to double back. He didn’t. He went straight to his pickup, climbed in and a moment later the engine turned over and the headlights came on. He drove away without looking back as far as she could tell.
Her driver’s-side seat was soaked and so was she. Not that she wasn’t already chilled to the bone from everything that had happened.
She locked her car door, feeling scared and not sure why as she kicked up the heat. There was no other vehicle. Maybe the person who’d jumped from the waterfall had hidden her car somewhere. But why do that?
As Roz pulled out of the parking lot, tears stung her eyes. She hadn’t imagined the person in the yellow raincoat. And history was not repeating itself.
Chapter Two
Rain pounded the windshield, the wipers making a steady whap-whap as Roz drove the narrow road back out to the main highway. She didn’t see the pickup’s taillights. He obviously didn’t want her following him anymore and had sped off to avoid any further contact. Fine with her.
Stopping at the intersection, she looked through the rain for the detour sign she vaguely remembered seeing earlier.
It was gone.
Had he picked it up? He hadn’t seen the person in the yellow raincoat. Was it possible he hadn’t seen the detour sign, either? She shook off the thought. Why