*Michael*
That fire had to be Shelby's doing–but why would she need to light one unless she was stranded?
The engine roared as I gunned the throttle, propelling our boat rapidly across the inky swells toward the silhouetted island. Lucas jogged up alongside me as I steered us in a beeline toward those beckoning flames atop the high ridge.
"Who's out there?" the lifeguard called over the growling motor.
"That's my wife up there," I shouted back, squinting through the darkness at the faint orange glow that was our only guide. "Shelby didn't return from a boating trip she took this afternoon with two friends."
As realization dawned on Lucas's tanned face, I took a moment to really look at the man who had bravely offered to help me. Though not much younger than myself, his slim muscular build spoke of a life working outdoors. Salt seemed permanently crusted into the creases around his eyes.
