Page 41 of One Last Chance

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. They found him alive.” She turned off the burner and lifted the kettle. “Eggs? They’re dehydrated but are pretty good heated and scrambled. And I made some hot cocoa too.” She pointed to a thermos.

“Thanks.” Flynn got up, blew out a breath, and went to the door.

Opened it and stepped outside, her hand grabbing the post on the porch. Her legs trembled, and she simply covered her face, holding on to the words, letting them crest over her.

Found alive.

She didn’t know why the urge to weep overtook her.

The door opened behind her. Peyton handed her a metal Sierra cup with eggs rehydrating and a metal spoon. “You’ll want to stir that.”

She took the cup and sat on the porch, her feet on the steps, and began to stir, the focus helping to tuck everything back in. Maybe she was just tired.

“Do you know any details?”

Peyton sat beside her. “Only that they found his life raft half-deflated on a volcanic island in the southwest of Cook Inlet. He’s in the hospital—hypothermia and dehydration.”

She nodded.

“If you hadn’t been here to get the call—” Peyton looked at her. “You saved his life.”

Flynn drew in a breath. “Fate.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Peyton blew on her eggs. Took a bite. “Listen, I need to head back up to my research marker and finish my observations. Do you want to come with me?”

Flynn shook her head. “I think I want to nose around, see what Kennedy saw. Maybe try to figure out where she might have gone.”

Peyton nodded. “I should have kept better track of her. She seemed so eager to stay out here alone, and she checked in every day on the ham. I never thought—” She looked at Flynn. “I’m so sorry.”

“That was Kennedy. A free spirit ever since we were kids. We may be identical twins, but we’re very different on the inside.”

Peyton cocked her head at her.

“What?”

“You seem every bit as free-spirited and curious as she was—just focused on a different subject.”

“I don’t know that I’d call myself free-spirited. Driven, maybe. And . . . until I figure out what happened to Kennedy, maybe trapped.”

“You’re out here in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, tracking down someone who went missing three years ago. That feels big and bold and very much like your sister.” Peyton touched her hand, squeezed. “I do hope you find her.” She released her hand. “I’ll never forget coming back to the cabin and finding it empty, all her stuff cleared out.”

Flynn looked at her. “Wait—her sleeping bag, her pack, everything? But—we got that back.”

“Yeah. We found the pack, or at least a lot of it, in the area of a research marker. Animals had gotten into the contents, we think, although nothing was torn or eaten, so we weren’t sure what happened. And we didn’t find any blood . . . or a body.”

And then there was the case of the traveling necklace. Flynn’s hand went to the jagged hearts. “How do you think her necklace ended up on a victim of the Midnight Sun Killer?”

“Yeah, that. I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Peyton got up and headed to the river. It sparkled, rushing, alive, foamy and bright, the waters inviting despite their lethal secrets. Peyton crouched and rinsed off her Sierra cup in the water.

Flynn finished off her eggs, her stomach suddenly awake and ravenous, then got up and followed Peyton. She too rinsed her cup in the water.

Peyton stayed crouched, shaking off the water but also picking through the rocks on the shore. She emerged with a shiny green rock, about the size of her palm. Handed it to Flynn.

“What’s this?”

“Nephrite, otherwise known as jade. Alaska has a number of deposits—most of them in the Seward Peninsula, but one of them is connected to this river. Sometimes we get lucky.”

Flynn held the rock in her palm. Black with greenish veins, it almost seemed polished, the surface smooth. “I thought jade was green.”

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