Page 42 of One Last Chance

“It comes in all colors, but this black is really green.” She took the stone out of Flynn’s hand and dipped it in the river, then held it up to the light. “See how the light turns it dark green?”

“And it’s spotted green.”

“That’s the jade inside the rock—it’s translucent. This could be worth cash.” She handed the rock back to Flynn. “You never know its value until you hold it to the light.”

“Kennedy would have loved this. She was into rocks—had a collection back in Minnesota when we were young. Used to love to go to the north shore of Lake Superior and go agate hunting.”

Peyton stood up. “She did that here too. Had a collection of rocks along the windowsill.” She drew in a breath. “I’ll never tire of the fragrance of the woods.”

Flynn gave a smile. “You remind me of Kennedy. She was always the stop-and-smell-the-pine type.”

Peyton laughed. “Yeah. She struck me as a live-off-the-land girl—subsistence gardening, fishing, maybe even jewelry-making.” She reached into the neck of her shirt and pulled out a necklace on a lanyard, a shiny green pendant on the end.

Flynn took the pendant in her hand. “An infinity symbol. Is this jade?” She let it go.

“Yeah. They’re made by a local community. Jade is supposed to mean the protector of generations. My father gave this to me a few years ago, and I showed it to Kennedy. I think it sparked an idea.” She tucked it back into her shirt. “The jade stones were still on the windowsill after she left, so I think she meant to return.”

They walked back to the cabin. “So you think she went on a day trip to observe the wolves, and never came back.”

“Or an overnight trip. She took her pack and her sleeping bag. And food, but—oh wait, I found something in the debris of her pack. Maybe—” Peyton hustled up the stairs, inside the cabin.

Flynn followed her in.

Peyton had opened a cupboard—the same one where she’d tucked away the ham radio. Flynn’s gaze went to the lifeline.

Home safe. She didn’t know why, but the sense of it had stirred more hope inside her.

Or maybe it was Peyton’s memories. In her mind’s eye, she easily saw Kennedy hunting for jade by the river . . .

“Was the river near where the wolves were?”

Peyton emerged with a weathered journal that had a folded map tucked inside. “Yes.” She set the book on the table. “Are you thinking she went to find more jade?”

“I don’t know. But you said her belongings were scattered but not torn or eaten, right? Maybe she took them out to make room for the rocks.”

Peyton considered her a moment. Then she set the journal on the table and opened it to the map. “This journal belongs to the cache. We use it to record wildlife sightings, anything unusual that might happen, or just our general thoughts. Think of it as a traveler’s journal. Sometimes campers stay here and they add their thoughts. Kennedy added a number of entries.”

Flynn sat on the chair and pulled the journal over, recognizing Kennedy’s handwriting. Her throat thickened, seeing her sister sitting on the bunk, maybe writing in the journal by fading sunlight.

Spent most of the day watching Koda and Luna and their pups, along with the few beta males and females adopted into the pack—Storm, Aurora, and Fang. Koda and his betas took down a moose a few days ago, and they’re still feasting on the kill—the adults going out to gather food and bring it back to the pups as a regurgitated meal.

One of Luna’s pups is wounded—I don’t know how. It won’t eat and I fear it won’t survive.”

She turned the page and found another entry, a few days later.

Returned from watching Koda and Luna. They lost their pup and have moved dens, this one closer to the river. Storm seems to be missing also. Not sure if Koda put him out or if he’s hunting.

I found a piece of jade in the river, downstream from the wolves.”

“You might be right about the jade theory,” Peyton said, obviously reading over Flynn’s shoulder. She stepped away from the table. “I’m going to pack up. Last chance?—”

“I’ll stay. Read the journal.” Flynn opened the map. “Maybe do some hiking. Where are we?”

Peyton came over as Flynn unfolded the entire map. It covered the table.

Flynn stood up as Peyton pointed to their location. “We’re here, on one of the Copper River tributaries. The CR, as you can see, runs all the way from the Denali basin, down to the Cook Inlet. This tributary—Jubilee Creek—leads to a number of falls and runs into the Jubilee Lake south of here before emptying out into the lower Copper River.”

She pointed to a road southwest of the cabin. “This is Bowie Road. It leads to the Bowie Outpost, for fly fishermen and hunters. If you get into trouble, you head to that road and follow it out to the highway. There’s the Copper Mountain Ski Resort.” She pointed to the lodge, maybe twenty miles overland. “And between Bowie land and the resort is Remington land.” She put her hand on the map, spread out her fingers. “It’s huge and wraps around the resort area and bumps up to Bowie land. Nash’s family never uses it, but since it’s between two key resources, they sometimes rent it out to hunters, and of course, the Copper River runs through both Bowie land and Remington land, so it’s popular with kayakers.”

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