Page 97 of Her Wild Coast Refuge

The pilot is busy making calls into his radio.Fire. Possible hazardous materials. Approach with extreme caution.

What have I done?

I cradle my face in my hands and cry.

* * *

I standup from the small, rectangular table bolted to the floor of the interview room and glance up at the clock again. Two hours I’ve been waiting in this soundproof box. Outside my door, footsteps pass. Voices filter through the halls and the ventilation fan rattles to life occasionally, but those are my only indication I’m not in the Twilight Zone.

After Hunter hugged me and made sure I wasn’t hurt, he had me checked out by the paramedic, a stout woman who warned me of the signs of smoke inhalation and airway swelling, then told me to rest and drink fluids and see my doctor as soon as possible. Then Hunter escorted me to this room.

“Stay put.”

“Hunter, I need to—”

But he cut me off with a hard glare.

“Fine.”

Where are Dawson and Quinn? What’s taking Hunter so long? Have they put out the fires? Do they know what happened up there?

I’ve already downed the bottle of water Hunter left for me. I’m hungry, but I doubt I could eat anything. To distract myself, I sketch out jewelry designs in my mind. I reach up to my locket, then remember what happened. I slip it out of my pocket and caress its etched surface. When I’m out of here, I’ll give it a thorough polishing and fix the chain.

Thank goodness I went back for it.

The memory of my mom slipping her locket over my head flashes in perfect detail.

Your dad gave this to me the day you were born. Will you keep it safe for me while we’re away?

She showed me the pictures inside. One of her as a baby, and one of me in her arms.

Take care of your brothers, Lexie.They listen to you.

Mom and Dad didn’t come home. After the police told us our parents had been murdered, Grams and Granddad arrived to take us to Alaska.

A hard, heavy pain sinks through me. I fight the tears, but they stream down my face. There are no tissues in this cold box of a room, which feels like a slap in the face. What are they worried about, that I’ll choke myself to death with paper?

I cry until there are no tears left. By going up to the survey camp, I’ve ruined everything.

The door opens, but it’s not Hunter.

“Alexis, I’m Sheriff Kaufmann,” he says.

The sheriff is a tall, lean man with close-cropped white hair and a narrow, beaky nose. His narrow face and pale blue eyes reveal nothing. He reminds me of an eagle. A hungry one.

I don’t care who he is—I’m not going to let him intimidate me.

With him is a deputy I’ve met a few times because he’s friends with Hunter. He’s broad shouldered and tall, with an athletic build. Despite his “all business” demeanor, his serene blue eyes are reassuring.

“This is Deputy Seth Dalton,” Sheriff Kaufmann says, stepping aside so his deputy can enter the room.

“Seth,” Deputy Dalton says to me. “We could use your help, Lexie.”

I consider staying on the floor. A little payback for leaving me here alone for two hours. But that would just cause more trouble, which will get me nowhere.

I roll to my feet, but standing makes the room spin. After a breath, I slide into my chair.

Seth sits across from me. He’s carrying a manila folder and a tablet.Follow my lead, his calm eyes tell me.

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