Page 63 of One Last Chance

“Okay . . . I have my reasons. But they have nothing to do with Moose. Please tell him to come back. We’re overflowing with pie and . . . I miss him.”

Sweet. “If Axel doesn’t, I will,” said Flynn.

“Fries are on me,” said Tillie, and winked. “What flavor shakes?”

“Surprise us,” Axel said.

“Living on the wild side?” Tillie said.

“I need some adventure in my life.”

“Oh yeah. You lack adventure.” Tillie laughed and headed toward another table.

He laughed too, and for a moment, Flynn simply . . . couldn’t. How did this happen that she was sitting across from this painfully handsome, sweet man who’d not only saved her life, maybe, but had shouldered her desperate investigation?

More, she liked it, this temporary partnership.

Yeah, Burke might not recognize her. She barely recognized herself.

And oddly, something Axel had said days ago over the radio filtered into her head.“Maybe he was just the holiday-romance guy and not the real guy . . .”

Jack, the handsome rogue who made Rose feel alive. Yeah, she could embrace that.

Axel put down his water. “Okay, so how was our conversation with Ashley helpful, except to make me want to go back there and figure out that haunted look in her eyes?”

“And on her face.”

“That too.” He folded his arms. “I can’t figure it out—why people let themselves be treated that way.”

“Because they don’t believe they deserve better. A happy ending. A life of joy.”

He looked at her then, something enigmatic in his eyes. “Yeah. So . . . what did you learn?”

“The Midnight Sun Killer isn’t the kind of guy who has to kidnap women to get them into his car. From all accounts, he lures them to him. I recently worked on a case where the guy picked up women from a bar, luring them home to?—”

“I don’t need to know.”

“Right. Well, there’s a type. Not all killers are creepers who live in the basement and come out at night. There are plenty who live among society, have families, work in normal jobs, and might even be religious. We call them charmers. Like Gacy, the Killer Clown.”

“Okay, that’s the definition of creepy.”

“For sure. And then there’s Ted Bundy? He killed over thirty women by pretending to have a broken arm and need help. Or the Casanova Killer . . .”

He shook his head. “So you think this guy isn’t the same as the Midnight Sun Killer.”

“I don’t know. It also doesn’t fit the timing of the deaths. Most of the victims were killed in late June, early July. The more I look at it, I think the MSK could be a tourist. That’s why he’s never been caught. He’s only here for hunting season.”

“Except hunting season in Alaska starts in the fall.”

“Right. But . . . people still carry guns.”

“In the bush, yeah. For protection.”

“Could be a hiker. I think we need to be looking at people who are seasonal, every year, in the area around Copper Mountain.”

“That’s a lot of people. There’s an entire RV park of seasonal regulars.”

“He’s probably single. Or at least here, he’s single. Maybe he leaves family behind to get it out of his system in Alaska. Something about the frontier stirs a feral need in him.”

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