Cascade by Linda Rodante
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For today’s author spotlight I’m giving you the first chapter of Linda Rodante’s latest book, Cascade. But first, a little about Linda.
Bio
Linda Rodante is an award-winning author, blogger, wife, mother, and grandmother. Her work with crisis pregnancy centers and anti-trafficking groups has given her a heart for hurting women while still honoring the role God has given to men. She’s a member or past member of American Christian Fiction Writing, of Word Weavers International, and numerous writing and critique groups.
Each of her Christian romantic suspense series and mysteries feature sweet romance wrapped with mystery, suspense, and real-life issues women face today. The romance is clean and Christian, although some topics are edgy and sensitive (as topics are today). Her devotional featuring the miracles God did in her mother’s life was written from a heart to show that God’s goodness, love, and miracles are as much alive today as ever. She desires to uplift the name of Jesus and encourage readers in their walk with the Lord.
Chapter 1
Sid Martin stepped back from the rock face, belaying the rope for the climber above him. Richard Jordan had made good time climbing upward, almost 140 feet. Next to him, the waterfall shimmered in the morning light. Mist rose over the whole area, wetting his clothes, and Richard’s and the rocks. The water’s crash to the pool below silenced most other sounds. Even so, he caught the occasional bird call that echoed off the gorge walls.
They’d come up a ways from the pool to start their climb where the rock surface had a space big enough and flat enough that he could belay.
An early morning chill—the first taste of fall—surrounded them. It added to what Sid already felt—the sense of freedom that climbing gave him.
He stared upward. In another minute or two, Richard would reach the summit. His friend had been correct in thinking this early climb would be void of other climbers, and that choosing an ascent so close to a waterfall would be invigorating.
Sid grinned. Invigorating for whom? Scrambling up slippery rocks wasn’t his idea of a nice climb, but he’d do it and do it well when his turn came, just so Richard couldn’t rag on him the rest of the day.
Raised voices drifted to his ears. He frowned and threw a glance to the right, then left, but saw no one. The rush of the cascading water drowned further sounds. With a shrug, he tilted his head back again and gazed upward. After two years of friendship, he and Richard had grown close. Close enough that Richard had talked him into climbing once, twice, then taken him to a climbing gym where Sid had learned basic skills. Richard had helped him polish them all.
Voices sounded again, strong with emotion, then followed by some kind of noise. Tick, thump, tick, thump. And an echo.
Above him, Richard's head jerked back. The next instant, he fell.
Sid jumped back into a squat, then leapt forward toward the towering rock, instant reflexes activating to bring his friend to a soft landing. Richard’s weight jerked Sid upward and into the rock face.
Richard slammed against the wall.
Slammed?
It should have been a soft landing. As an experienced climber, Richard could control the fall with the best of them, avoiding what had just happened.
And yet....
Richard hung upside down, his harness and Sid's grip on the rope, the only things keeping him from crashing headfirst into the hard-packed earth below.
***
Crista Henson had no idea why she woke at six in the morning, nor why she'd felt compelled to visit the waterfall she'd seen just last weekend.
Only…she did.
The cool October night had given way to a smear of light on top of the mountains—the shadowed quiet across the valley welcoming dawn’s glow. It would be wonderful to watch the morning sky open and see the waterfall glisten in the early light.
The sign for the trailhead parking lot shot past her. She shook her head, slowed, and made a quick U-turn. Lifting her coffee from the cup holder, she hummed to herself. Yes, it was early, but she needed this time to pray anyway, to continue that renewal of her relationship with God that had begun with her decision to move, to get away from—
A red blur tore out of the parking area.
Crista had a millisecond to react to the other car’s mad rush. She dropped the coffee, flung the steering wheel to the right, and headed off-road. A stand of trees loomed in front of her. She twisted the car back onto the road and bucked to a stop, heart pounding.
Oh my. Oh my. I almost got killed. Oh my.
She took a deep breath and another.
Thank you, Lord. Thank you.
She didn’t move for a moment, just stared straight ahead, breathing deep. Finally, she glanced in the rearview mirror, then over her shoulder.
No, he hadn’t stopped. He. She. Whoever it was.
Crista reversed, straightened the car, then pulled into one of the few parking spaces. She grabbed her coffee mug from the floor, amazed it hadn’t spilled. Tight cap. Good deal. She unclipped her phone from the holder and stuck it in her back pocket.
Her hands shook.
Forget it, Crista. You’re okay.
Help that guy to drive more carefully, Lord.
Through the trees, a glint of light on moving water caught her eye. Okay. Good. It was a short walk to the top of the falls. Soft, moist air surrounded her, along with the smell of the earth, and the rustle of some small animal in the brush. Her shoulders relaxed. Across the way, trees lined the stream as it rushed for the waterfall’s crest.
A sign with an arrow pointed her way. She stepped around the bushes next to the sign. And stopped.
A man sprawled on the path, twenty feet from the foaming crown of water. A large red stain spread across his shirt. Her heart vaulted into her throat, and she darted forward.
The man’s eyes sprang open as she knelt and touched him. Fear raced through them.
“It’s okay. I mean….” She swallowed and forced herself to think. Her hand rested over his bloody shirt. “I’m here to help. What happened?”
The man’s mouth twisted. “S…shot.”
“Oh…oh…” She lifted his shirt. “Oh, Lord.” Blood oozed upward. What to do, Lord? What…
Stop the bleeding.
She didn’t know much, but she knew that. She glanced around, then yanked her t-shirt over her head and pushed it against the man’s stomach.
“Hold this. Hold it.” Crista made her voice firm.
The man groaned. She grabbed his hand and put it against her shirt. “Hold it there. I’ve got to call.”
Crista tugged her phone loose, stood up, hoping for a signal. She glanced around. Was anyone else nearby?
“Help!” She yelled. “Help! Is anyone here? Help!”
She hit the 911 buttons. “Please. Please.”
A male voice came on the line. “What’s your emergency?”
“A man’s been shot. I’m at the overlook at Blue Springs Waterfall. I…”
“Ma’am, calm down. The ambulance is on its way.”
“What? How…”
“The other man called it in. The ambulance is on its way.”
“But I just got here. No one else is here.”
“Blue Springs Waterfall? Gunshot wound to the head?”
“No! No! To the stomach.”
“To the stomach? Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” Frustration filled her. “And someone almost ran me off the road.”
“Are you at the base of the falls?”
“No, I told you. At the overlook. Near the road.”
“Wait a moment.”
She looked down at the man again. Thirty-something, in good shape. Brown hair and eyes. His hand had slipped to the side. She dropped to her knees, dropped the phone, and pushed her hand against the shirt again.
Her heart squeezed. Oh Lord, he’s dying.
She glanced around. Where were people when you needed them?
“Help!” She tried to shout louder, pitching her voice. “Please help me!”
***
Sid heard the shout again.
He’d managed to lower Richard to the ground, bump and grind, in time to see the swelling line of crimson across his forehead and into his hair. And he’d called 911, glad he carried a satellite phone with him. A minute later, Sid had his water bottle out, pulled out a clean rag he always kept tucked into his back pocket, and washed off the blood. The wound looked like a bad crease, and Richard was still out
Then he heard the cry for help.
His gut clenched. It wasn’t loud. Not over the noise of the falls. But he heard it. He finished unhooking Richard from the climbing gear. Nothing he could do about that cry right now, but his jaw clenched. A woman’s cry.
He tossed the climbing gear aside. The ambulance would be on its way. He’d told them to go to the top of the falls and follow the trail down. So maybe whoever….
The woman’s yell came again.
He straightened and stared at the top of the falls. Was that the right direction? The sound intertwined with the waterfall’s rumble.
At his feet, Richard stirred.
Sid hunkered down. “Lay still, Rich.” He put his hands on the other man’s shoulders.
“Wha…” His friend’s eyes opened, rolled, closed, then opened again. “Things…are swimming.”
“That’s your head. Bad cut.” Sid hesitated. “Not sure…”
“Gunshot.” The words were muffled, but Sid understood.
That’s what he’d thought when he heard it and saw the wound. Bizarre. When he called 911, that's what he’d said, just in case there was someone crazy out here. Be careful, come prepared, he’d told them.
His gaze rose to the top of the falls, his heart tripping once more over the woman’s call for help.
“Is anyone around? Please! Help me!”
Sid bent his head to pray and caught Richard’s eyes flickering open again. “W…who?”
How had the man heard? Sid shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Go.”
“I can’t leave you. If someone is shooting…”
Richard raised his head. “Go. Up the trail.”
“Not happening. I—”
“My knife. Get it for me.”
Sid hesitated, knowing where this was going, knowing that Richard couldn’t force him, but he’d try. Frustrated, Sid bent over, unhooked the knife holder from the man’s lower leg, slid the knife out, and placed it in Richard’s hand.
“Not much of a weapon against a gun.”
“Go. Help her.”
Spoken just like the man he knew. Sid nodded and straightened. “You better be alive when I get back.”
Richard’s lips twisted into what should have been a grin, and his eyes closed.
***
Crista glanced around once more. No one. You’d think someone would be up and out by now. How long would it take the ambulance? She dropped her gaze. The man was out, not moving. She kept pressure on the wound. So much blood, but a stomach wound was better than a bullet to the chest.
Maybe.
She sent up another prayer for the man.
The morning was cool, bringing with it the promise of leaf change and glorious mountain views. Still, sweat ran down her back.
A brisk wind shook the trees, tossing her shoulder-length hair into her face and bringing with it a rancid smell.
She wrinkled her nose but studied the man again. Should she try to talk to him? Ask what had happened? Had the person in the red car been involved?
The foul smell increased.
She screwed her face into unpleasantness and glanced around. What could make that…
The bushes on her right parted. A huge bear moved through them, head down, shoulders hunched, seeming to study the ground. It halted, lifted its head, and stared straight at Crista.
Her heart chugged. She didn’t dare move. Or should she? Wasn’t she supposed to make herself big and back away? Her gaze dropped. But the man…
“Oh, Lord, help.”
The bear sniffed, growled low.
Oh my. Oh my, Lord…
A litany of instructions from somewhere in her past flipped through her mind. Stand. Make yourself big. Don’t run. Don’t take your eyes off him or her, but don’t look directly into his eyes. Don’t challenge. Crista stood, lifted her arms into the air. “Okay, bear. I’m not bothering you.”
The bear rose onto its hind feet and growled.
Crista took a step away. Was he smelling blood? Bears weren’t like sharks, were they?
“Back away. Slowly.” A masculine voice came from behind her, near the trail that led to the bottom of the falls.
She jerked.
“Keep your arms up. Make no sudden moves. Back away.”
She wanted to glance over her shoulder. Didn’t dare. Her heart thudded so loud it was hard to make out the man’s words.
“If she charges, stand still. Don’t run but fight if you have to.”
Fight? Crista dipped her head but kept an eye on the bear. He’d dropped to the ground again, swaying his head back and forth. Her gut clenched. Not a good sign.
“She doesn’t like me showing up behind you.” The voice kept a calm, almost sing-song cadence. Then it jumped. “She’s going to charge. Drop to the ground!”
Crista froze, fear jack-knifing through her.
The bear went by her in a rush of putrid smell and dark fur.
Behind her, a long, hissing sound caused her body to jerk. She whirled to see the man, arm raised, hand clasped around a can, and a cone-shaped yellow cloud coming from it.
The bear swerved away and disappeared into the bush.
The man turned his head, coughed, and waved at the spray. “Stay where you are. Don’t move.” His voice came rough and uneven.
No, she wouldn’t move. She was iceberg solid.
After a minute of silence, his voice came again, strong again. “That was a fake charge. Her attention had shifted to me, and she wasn’t ready for a fight, thank God. I used bear spray. She’s gone, I think, but stay still a little longer. Let’s make sure.”
Crista wanted to stay hammered to the spot, but… She tilted her head. “I…a man’s been shot.”
“I see him. I’m walking over. I heard you scream for help.”
She stared at the man as he passed her. Light brown hair. Well-muscled arms and legs. Not too tall.
No gun.
She breathed in. Thank you, Lord. Probably not the shooter then. She tried to unfreeze her arms and legs.
“Please hold the shirt to his wound.” Her voice eked out.
He grunted an answer.
Slowly, Crista glanced right and left. No bear. She slid to her knees again. The new guy had put the bear spray down, had a hand pressed against her t-shirt, and was checking the other man’s eyes. Like he knew what he was doing.
“Is he still alive?”
After a moment, he threw a look her way, then scanned the area around them. “Yes, I called for an ambulance—”
“So did I.”
“For my friend at the bottom of the waterfall. They’ll come this way.”
Crista’s breath hitched. “At the bottom of the waterfall?”
“Yeah.” He slid her another look. “You’re the one who screamed?”
“Yes, I…” She waved her hand at the man lying in front of them. “I hoped someone was better at this than I am.”
He dipped his head. “Stopping the bleeding was the main thing. For now.” His scrutiny went to the falls, and he let out a quick breath. “I’ll keep the pressure on. Can you call them again? Tell them we need Air Flight.”
***
Sid felt the pull in both directions. Not a pull, a gigantic tug of war, like a two-ton truck on one side and a locomotive on the other. How was Richard? The bear might be the least of their problems, although in the past...
What if whoever shot this guy was still around?
The woman stuffed her phone in her back pocket after the call. “They’re on their way.”
He nodded, dropped his gaze to the man again. Maybe the victim had a chance. Not much of one from what he could tell, but… Dear God, you made this man. You knew what was happening here, knew what would happen to Richard. Can you keep them both alive, Lord? I’m asking that in Jesus’ name.
His gaze darted to some rustling in the bushes, but he saw nothing. Keep us alive, too, Lord.
The woman was staring at the bushes.
“If she comes back, grab my bear spray.”
“She?”
“Probably. Not too big. Long face.”
“Oh. She seemed huge to me, and I didn’t see any cubs.”
“She might have lost them this year. Accident. Shooting.” His gaze dropped to the man on the ground. “You see what happened?”
“Huh?” Her focus came back to Sid. “To him, you mean? Who shot him?”
“Yeah.”
“No…no…I didn’t…but I saw a red car leaving here. They ran me off the road.”
“They?”
“Well, not ‘they.’ I didn’t get a look at the driver or if anyone else was in the car. I was trying to avoid an accident. He or she sped out of here like that bear was after them.”
“Okay. Possibly. More likely the shooter leaving. Hopefully.”
Her eyes widened. “Could he still be around?”
“Could be. Probably not.”
She was staring at her hands.
Sid saw the blood smeared on them, and on her arms, her shorts, and …sports bra? It looked like what the girls wore at the gym. His gaze dropped to the material he held against the wound. Her t-shirt? It wouldn’t do her any good after this.
“What about your friend?”
Sid’s gaze met hers. “I'll go down there when the ambulance gets here.”
“I could go.”
He heard the tremor in her voice, almost smiled. “No, two injuries are enough.”
“I’ve hiked this trail before. I can get down there.”
“And if the shooter’s down there?”
Her eyes rounded. Sid nodded. No, he wasn’t chancing that. Leaving Richard was more than enough on his conscience.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Thank you, Lord.
She turned toward the sound. “Thank God. I hope it’s the police and the ambulance, and that Air Flight is not far behind.”
His thinking exactly. “A red car, you said. Sports car? SUV? Van?”
“Sports car. Small.” She wrinkled up her nose. “I think. Convertible, maybe, but with the top up.”
The man on the ground made a sudden movement. His fingers caught Sid’s shirt. “Cat…” The word tailed off.
Sid leaned closer, but the man’s eyes slid closed, and the sirens drowned anything else.
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A fresh start in the Tennessee mountains was supposed to bring peace. Instead, it brought a killer.
Crista Henson fled to a quiet Tennessee town to rebuild her shattered life, trading her past for a fresh start as a vacation planner and a deeper reliance on God. She wants peace. Instead, she finds herself tangled in a deadly web of secrets with enough suspects to challenge Hercule Poirot himself. She never planned on playing amateur sleuth—and she certainly didn't plan on Sid Martin.
Sid is running from his own devastating past, swearing off the wilderness forever.
But when a friend lures him back, a desperate cry for help and a brutal attempted murder force him to confront his guilt and his fears.
As their investigation expands and danger closes in, can Crista and Sid narrow the suspects in time to prevent their own demise?
