“We don’t know it’s her,” Mitch reminded him.

True. And it didn’t matter. Either way, they were going to get that person down safely. But God, he hoped like hell it wasn’t Lily. They had a high success rate with rescues overall, but Dead Man’s Cliff had earned its name the hard way, and all too often a rescue turned into a recovery.

As in a body recovery.

Aidan slammed the door on that thought and forced himself into work mode. The four overhangs were spread out over a few miles along the river. Within half an hour, the Zodiac crew called with the news that they’d found the lost hiker on outcropping number two, about four and a half miles from where Aidan and his crew stood.

They drove the mile and a half of fire road they had, and then had to hike the other three miles to the location.

It was a long-ass walk, hauling all their rope and gear in the wind. By this time the Zodiac had reported in with more details on their victim. The stuck climber was in a sweatshirt, hoodie up, and leggings, so no age or sex could be determined. It could be anyone out there.

But not Lily, he told himself. And yet a small doubt remained, messing with Aidan’s head. He locked that shit down and kept moving as the Zodiac made contact with the stuck climber. Sign language communication only, since they couldn’t hear each other over the roar of the wind barreling through the canyon and the water rushing along the canyon.

The climber was stuck. They couldn’t—or wouldn’t—go back up, and down wasn’t an option.

With each step Aidan’s fear grew that it was going to be Lily and he wouldn’t be able to get to her before the storm swept her off the ledge.

Chapter 28

Lily got back home frozen and desperate for a hot shower. She was shocked to find Gray coming out of her place with a grim set to his jaw.

“Lily,” he said, looking shocked as hell to see her.

Who else was he expecting?

But before she could ask, he had his cell phone to his ear. A few seconds later he said, “Fuck!” and stared at her. “You’re not up at Dead Man’s Cliff.”

“No,” she said slowly. “I never planned to be. I got to the three-quarter mark and turned around. The storm—”

“Fuck,” he said again, and hit the stairs, running down them toward his truck.

“Wait!” she yelled after him. He didn’t, so she took the stairs at a dead run as well but didn’t catch up to him until he was just about to peel out of the lot.