Page 117 of One Last Chance

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s find out.” Flynn pulled out her phone and started a search. “Says . . . Oh my gosh. Wolverine Construction.” She put down her phone. “Out of Montana.”

Shasta shrugged. “I don’t understand.”

Flynn walked back to the map. “Who was Parker visiting?”

“Um, I don’t know. Maybe someone from the youth group in Willow? She’s pretty active there.”

Right. “Call Hank, find out.”

The door opened in the front area, and Flynn looked up to see Moose and Dodge walk in. She walked to the door of the office as Shasta went back to her reception desk.

“How are Echo and the baby?” Flynn asked.

“All good now,” Dodge said. “I have a son.”

“Congratulations,” Shasta said.

“What do you need from us?” Moose set his sunglasses on top of his head, backwards.

Flynn motioned them into the office and walked over to the map. “Axel said you have a drone?”

Moose and Dodge followed her in. “I do. And I brought London and Shep and Boo with me. Shep can run the drone, Boo watching the screen, while London and I search by chopper. Dodge will take his plane, do a big sweep of the river.”

“Okay. I really need you guys to focus here, down by Jubilee Lake. The rest of the teams are on the Bowie camp road and searching the Remington property, but I have this feeling . . .”

Shasta came back in. Shook her head. “I talked to Parker’s mom. Sarah said she was visiting Laramie Bowie. She was meeting Calista and Adrienne Roberts, along with a few other kids in the youth group. Apparently, they were going to go swimming. Except she never showed up, so Calista called her folks, and they found her car.”

Flynn stilled. “Right. Laramie Bowie is the grandson of Wilson Bowie.”

“Yes. His father is Dillon,” Moose said. “You met him last week—we rescued his kid.”

She hadn’t exactly met him. She’d been busy untangling herself from Sully. But now she repeated the information Shasta had given her. “So they were here on a fishing trip.”

“They come up every year, even after Wilson’s first wife died.”

“When was that?”

Moose paused, then, “I think she died about twenty years ago. Dillon was about nineteen or twenty at the time. Really sad. Dillon is about ten years older than me, so I never really knew him. I barely recognized him at the rescue. He had to remind me.”

He took the cup of coffee that Shasta offered.

“He was a little lost after his mother died. And then when Wilson got remarried. I think he didn’t get along with his stepmom. I don’t blame him—she cheated on Wilson, and they divorced a couple years later. I remember my folks telling me about it.”

“Wilson got remarried? When was that?”

“Maybe fifteen or sixteen years ago? Dillon was already married. I remember Wilson and Dillon on the camping trip the weekend Aven went missing.”

“How old was Dillon?”

“I don’t know. Midtwenties?”

“And how old was Wilson?”

“I don’t know. He’s early sixties now, so, maybe midforties.”

“Still in the range for a serial killer.”

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