Page 59 of One Last Chance

CHAPTER7

Flynn could admit to liking having a partner. At least for a few days.

She wasn’t bringing him back to Minneapolis or anything, but right now, she didn’t hate having him around to the address of the survivor of the recent river rescue, Axel at the helm of his Yukon.

Especially since he fed her. She took another bite of the crispy pastry, still warm from the tinfoil he’d wrapped it in. Talked with her mouth full. “What are these called again?”

“Pasties. They’re a Minnesota dish—although I think they’re originally from England. My mom has relatives in Cornwall.”

“It’s delicious. What’s this—steak and carrots?—”

“And potatoes and even rutabagas. Garlic and onions. But you can put almost anything in it. My mom makes them for the Midnight Sun Saloon sometimes. It’s her secret recipe.”

He’d warmed the pasty in the microwave after they’d arrived at the Air One headquarters in Anchorage late this morning.

She’d needed something to combat all the coffee swimming around in her gut after her two-hour interview with Deke earlier this morning, right before her discharge. She’d given him everything she remembered . . . Probably lost a few things. Frankly, she didn’t see her statement as much help—she hadn’t gotten even a glimpse of who might have shot her.

Axel had picked her up and driven her right to the airport, where Moose’s Cessna waited. She’d never been up in a small plane before and clutched her third cup of coffee while staring out the window at the lush, breathtaking beauty of Alaska.

The sun turned the peaks of the Denali massif white and glistening, a ridgeback that stretched as far as she could see. It shadowed the valley below a deep emerald green, and running through it all was the deep indigo of the Copper River and the Knik Arm.

The majestic view scattered the lingering fatigue of her sleepless night and even distracted her from her throbbing knee, now in a brace. At least the swelling had subsided. And, she had hobbled out of the hospital this morning on her own power.

Although, honestly, as she limped beside Axel, dressed in jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt, smelling freshly showered, his hair burnished under the sunlight, looking every inch the hero who’d practically carried her out of the woods, she wouldn’t have minded leaning on?—

Stop.

The light of day had scattered the shadows of yesterday, given her a clear view of reality.

Sheesh,she’d practicallyswoonedinto the man’s arms.

Yeah, it would help to keep the reason she was here—finding Kennedy—in the forefront of her brain.

She had a life in Minnesota,hello,and Axel had a full and necessary life here and . . .

And until she returned home, she wouldn’t push him out of her life, because, well, again . . . maybe having a temporary partner wouldn’t be terrible.

As long as he didn’t get in her way.

“Your mom is amazing. My mom makes some killer cookies. Sadly, I can barely boil eggs.”

He looked over at her. “I love boiled eggs. I can teach you my trick.”

She looked away from his impossibly blue eyes with the feeling his tricks could get her in trouble.

He turned off the highway onto a rough paved road. They passed a sign for the Glacier View mobile home park, then turned onto a dirt road where twenty or so single-wide homes sat maybe ten feet apart along each side of the road. Most had two or even three cars parked in the front grass, some of them newer model SUVs and trucks. Decks jutted out from a few, covered with flowers, manicured front patches of grass. Others overflowed with debris—old furniture, rusty appliances, and weeds growing up around propane tanks.

She supposed it looked like any other neighborhood in any other city. Axel read the numbers on the homes and finally slowed, a boxer running out, barking and growling, pawing at the chain-link fence in front of a green single-wide.

“You can stay in the truck if you’d like.” He put the SUV into park.

“No, I’m good.” She had finished the pasty and now folded the tinfoil into a square, tucked it inside a napkin, which she used to clean her fingers. “Let’s do this.”

Okay, she might have more desire than actual ability as she eased herself out of the car. He came around and offered her a hand. She took it, let herself cling to his grip for a moment.

Then she turned and closed the door, sizing up the place.

Curtains hung closed at the window. A blue tarp slung over the top of the home suggested a roof leak.

---