Witness Pursuit. Hope White

ledge, over.”

      “Aiden McBride is already here, over.”

      “Of course he is,” Nate muttered to himself. “What about Officer McBride?” he said into the radio.

      “He hasn’t checked in, over.”

      “Be on the lookout, over.”

      “Ten-four.”

      Nate glanced across the mountain range. The sun had already started its descent. He wanted to get Cassie off this ledge so they wouldn’t have to do this in the dark.

      “Am I in trouble?”

      He snapped his attention to her. “You’re conscious.”

      “Disappointed, huh?” she teased.

      Nate ripped his gaze from her adorable face. “This isn’t funny.”

      “No, it most certainly is not. I was just doing my job and found a body. Is she dead? Please tell me she’s not dead. At first I thought maybe she just collapsed and hit her head. I’ve passed out before from not remembering to eat.”

      Her nonstop chatter convinced Nate she was okay. “Cassie, take a breath.”

      Cassie and Nate couldn’t be more different. While many thought of Nate as a reserved enigma, Cassie was bubbly and upbeat. Her brother, Nate’s friend Aiden, said she’d drive any man crazy with her constant questions and observations about life, especially a man like Nate.

      Drive him crazy? Sometimes, yet other times he enjoyed the pleasant sound of her voice.

      “You’re angry with me,” she said.

      “I’m not angry.”

      “You seem angry. Why, because I’m down here? I was only trying to get away.” She hesitated. “That man, there was a man.”

      “It’s okay, he’s not here now. You’re safe.”

      “He was carrying a shovel and broke into the house and—”

      “Cassie.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re okay. I’m here and your brother’s on his way with rescue gear.”

      She sighed. “Great, Aiden and his lectures. Look, I’m fine.” She sat up and winced, gripping her head. “This must be what a hangover feels like.”

      Of course, she wouldn’t know firsthand because she never drank, unlike Nate, who at one point found himself using alcohol to ease the sting of grief and the bitter taste of shame.

      That was another reason he didn’t like spending too much time around Cassie—he worried he’d somehow sully her goodness.

      “I’m glad you’re here,” she said.

      He snapped his attention to her, trying to read her expression. Was she teasing? Because he knew he often came off like a jerk, abrupt and cold.

      She watched him, as if waiting for him to respond to her comment.

      He had no response, fearing if he opened his mouth he’d give her a lecture about being out so late alone.

      “Are you okay?” she said.

      Something snapped.

      “Am I okay?”

      The dog jumped into her lap, and she stroked its fur. “Yeah, you look more worried than usual, and your shirt’s torn and you’re clenching your fist like you want to hit a punching bag at Bracken’s Gym. So it’s logical to ask if you’re okay, not that you consider my questions logical but—”

      “No, Cassie, I’m not okay,” he interrupted. “What were you thinking coming out here so late?”

      “It’s only eight o’clock.”

      “But by yourself without protection?”

      “What, like a bodyguard?” She smiled.

      Which only frustrated him more.

      “It’s Echo Mountain,” she said. “Besides, I have pepper spray in my bag, not that I could get to it because it was on the counter and I was hiding in the front hallway.”

      “Pepper spray?” he said.

      “Yeah.”

      “You think pepper spray is going to protect you from guys like this?”

      “Guys like what? I don’t even know who he was.”

      “Well, he knows you.” He immediately regretted his words when her face went white.

      “How is that possible?” she said.

      “Didn’t you hear him calling your name from above?”

      She shook her head. “How did you hear him?”

      “You left your phone on. Dispatch put it through. Speaking of which, give me your phone.” He stuck out his hand.

      The dog dived between Nate and Cassie, frantically barking.

      “It’s okay, Dasher,” Cassie said. “He’s not really angry. That’s just Chief Walsh.” She restrained the dog with one hand and gave Nate her phone with the other.

      “Dispatch, this is Chief Walsh. I’m with Cassie McBride. Rescue is on the way. I’m closing the line, over.” He handed it back to her.

      “If you give me a boost I can climb back up and save search-and-rescue from having to come get me.”

      “I’d rather you relax until they arrive.”

      “This is silly.” She struggled to stand.

      Since she wasn’t going to listen to him, Nate reached out to steady her. That’s when he noticed the blood smearing her sleeve.

      “Cassie, did you touch the body in the cabin?”

      “Only to feel for a pulse, why?”

      “You’ve got blood on your jacket.” He motioned to her sleeve.

      “Oh, wow, I didn’t see that before. You’d think I would have noticed, especially since it’s so...bright.” Her legs buckled.

      Nate caught her as she went down, the dog wedged between them. He lowered her to the ground and examined the wound. It wasn’t bad, yet it had caused her to pass out. Concerned, he ran his hands over her clothes searching for other wounds, but found none.

      Then he remembered her reaction when her brother had suffered a knife wound last year.

      “Can’t handle the sight of blood,” he said under his breath.

      It was okay; she was okay. He examined her wound closer. The four-inch gash didn’t look deep. She probably snagged her arm on a sharp branch on her descent.

      He pulled gauze from the earlier rescue out of his jacket and wrapped her wound as the dog hovered close by. They hadn’t even discussed how she’d ended up with the dog. He knew she didn’t own a dog, because it would interfere with her travel plans. Which meant she’d rescued a dog while being stalked by a killer and rappelled down the side of a mountain with the pup in her arms. This woman was...

      “Nate, the team’s here,” Aiden called from above.

      “Great!” Nate called back.

      * * *

      Cassie awoke in an ambulance, confused and worried.

      “Where’s Dasher?” she asked her cousin Madeline, the EMT.

      “Who?”

      “My dog.”

      “You don’t have a dog.”

      “I had him on the ledge with me. What happened to him? You didn’t just let him go, did you? He could get eaten by wild animals or—”

      “I