“Dunno.”
The shots.
“Was he . . .”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so, or Flynn would have texted me.”
“And Rigger?”
Axel grimaced. “I think he got away.”
So, going home was definitely out, then.
“Roz?”
“An ambulance was on the way when I left.”
She closed her eyes.
“Who are you?” Hazel, leaning across the console.
He smiled, and Tillie’s heartbeat slowed a little. “I’m Axel. Who are you?”
“I’m Hazel.”
“Nice to meet you, Hazel.” He looked at Tillie. “Did you have a destination or. . .”
“I left my car at Moose’s house.” Not really an answer, and perhaps he knew it, because he let a beat drop between them.
“I think Moose’s house is exactly where you should go.” His words emerged gentle. “And stay.”
“I don’t . . .” She glanced at Hazel, then turned back, and lowered her voice. “I’ve brought Moose enough trouble for one night.”
His voice dropped. “Moose has been worried sick about you for a month. He tried to get Dawson to find you?—”
“Dawson?”
“Our cousin. He’s a detective with theAnchorage police.”
Oh.
“Moose cares about you, Tillie. It might be nice if you were there, waiting, when he got back.”
He stepped away from the truck. “Or I suppose you could keep driving. Because as much as Moose loves this truck, I think he cares about you more.”
And now she couldn’t breathe. Axel met her eyes. Then he nodded and walked away. She followed him through the rearview mirror, saw him get into his Yukon. Drive away, back toward Roz’s place.
“Mom?”
“Yeah, it’s okay, Hazelnut. We’re going to be okay.”
Funny, that’s exactly what Moose had said to her.
She turned the heat up as they got back on the road. Hazel curled up on the seat, putting her head down on the console, and Tillie rubbed her shoulder.
The big truck found its way back to Moose’s place almost on its own, and as she pulled in, her decrepit Ford Focus looked pitiful and desperate.
“You could keep driving.”She got the gist of Axel’s words. She could take Moose’s truck, and he wouldn’t come after her. Wouldn’t press charges.