Page 101 of One Last Chance

“She ain’t comin’ back, man. Now, unless you want something to eat, you need to do the same.”

Something . . . it just didn’t . . . “Fine.” He backed out of the kitchen, spotted Sami standing near the cash register, her eyes wide. The burger still sat under the lights.

“Do you want a shake or something?” Sami said as he passed her.

He shook his head as he headed toward the door.

He’d lost his appetite. At least for food. But he’d figured out what he wanted to say.Tillie, where are you?

He took out his wallet and pulled out a business card. Then he grabbed a pen and wrote her a message. Handed it to the waitress. “Give this to her if she ever comes back.”

The woman nodded and tucked it beside the cash register.

Then he headed out into the night, wishing he hadn’t waited so long for pie.

CHAPTER11

Flynn wasn’t sure where she’d gone off the tracks and lost control of her heart, but she was in big trouble. Axel stood in the moose-burger line, his dark-blond hair curling out of a baseball hat set backwards on his head, his hands in his faded jeans pockets, wearing a blue flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up over his powerful forearms, smiling in greeting at locals, just a casual hero hanging out . . . Yeah, she needed to run, run away, as soon as she could if she ever had a hope of returning to her life in Minnesota.

Except, what life? Tracking the river monsters, residing in the darkness? She’d sort of gotten used to all this light, the sun pouring over the mountains, glistening on the river, the fresh piney air . . . All of Alaska felt awake and alive and . . .

Maybe Kennedy had brought her here, but staying had suddenly become about . . . living. In fact, it felt sort of like she’d forgotten how to be a detective.

But maybe there wasn’t a trail. Maybe Kennedy was gone.

And maybe it was time to let her go.

“Hey, Flynn.” Peyton walked up holding a piece of beef jerky. “I didn’t know you were still here.” She wore a fleece, a pair of jeans, her dark hair pulled back. Her fiancé, Nash, walked behind her, holding a couple of frothy beers. He also wore the uniform of Alaska—a gimme hat, flannel shirt, jeans, boots. Dark hair, a hint of whiskers.

Alaskan men. No wonder they landed on calendars.

“Yeah. I—” She glanced at Axel, now standing by the cashier. “I like it here.”

“I’ll bet.” Peyton winked. “You look like you’re getting around better.”

“Knee’s back to normal, almost.”

“Good. Any luck with that report Hank gave you?”

“It’s not very long—I thought there’d be more repeat hikers.”

“Our repeaters are locals, usually.”

That didn’t fit with her profile, but she just nodded. “I compared the list to Deke’s list of RV regulars. Just a couple crossed over, but most of them have social media posts that put them in the lower forty-eight at the time of the most recent, um, incident.”

“Sorry.”

“There’s got to be another clue to Kennedy’s disappearance out there . . .”

Axel had paid and, carrying two burgers wrapped in paper, headed over to her.

“So, you’re going to stick around until you find it?” Peyton glanced again at Axel, grinning.

Or maybe she’d stick around for other reasons.

What—no. Oh?—

“Hey, Peyton,” Axel said as he came up. “Nash.”

---