Lexi wrested her flip-phone from her pocket. One bar. She dialed 911, hoping the signal would be strong enough.
A familiar voice answered. “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?” Relief flooded through her, gratitude that she had an answer, and that it was someone she knew: Rhys MacFarlane, the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Office’s youngest detective. Apparently the dispatcher was already off duty. Like Lexi, Rhys was a fervent incomer who had made the island his home as well as his workplace.
“Rhys! It’s Lexi. I’m on the trail back of Mount Ada. Rhys, there’s a b-body here. Just off the road. It l-looks like he fell down the cliff.” As she stuttered out her message, the horror returned, and the revulsion.
“Are you okay?” Rhys asked.
“Yes. Well, no, not really.” She struggled to continue. “Rh
