Page 55 of One Last Promise

“He’s gone,” said London. “Our friend Flynn is looking for him.”

Shep hadn’t heard that.

“Tillie needs to leave town. And keep running.”

Roz’s words hung in the silence of the room. Finally, London asked, “Why?”

Roz shook her head.

London pursed her lips, then dug out the piece of paper. Opened it. “We found this in the suitcase.”

Roz’s eyes widened. “You found the suitcase.”

“We did. What does this mean, Roz? I know it’s your badge number.”

Roz’s jaw tightened, and for a second, she looked exactly like the toughened cop she might have been. “I can only talk to Tillie.”

London sighed and folded up the paper. “We’re just trying to help.”

Roz shook her head. “I don’t think anyone can help.” She reached for the remote and started to lower her bed down, her expression set.

London got up. “We’ll figure this out, I promise.” Then she gave Roz a smile.

Shep knew that look. The look that said she’d keep her word.

The same one he’d worn when Colt had come to him a year ago with a request.

The same one he glimpsed in the bathroom mirror as they walked out of the room.

Truth was, he’d made promises too. In short, where London went, he went.

And Captain Awesome wasn’t going to let anyone down. “C’mon,” he said as he pulled out his phone.

“Where are wegoing?” London asked.

“We’re going to your place to get your stuff.” He walked down the hall and pressed the elevator button.

“Why?”

“Because we’re taking a road trip to Copper Mountain.”

So many promises broken, Tillie didn’t know where to start apologizing to Pearl.

I’m sorry, sis. I’m so sorry?—

The words kept searing through her as Tillie followed Moose into the tangled nightmare that was the Alaskan boreal forest. They’d taken the deer path again, shining their lights through the mess of branches as they walked, scanning for any sign that Hazel had left the path.

A quarter mile from the house, just before they reached the gorge, Moose found a swath of broken branches, trampled grass, and another deer path veering off along the rim of the cliff.

Tillie wanted to weep with relief. Until?—

“Look,” Moose said as they came out to the edge. “Is that Kip’s tug?”

She looked, and she simply wanted to break free and wail at the sight of the purple tug Hazel had used to play with Kip. It hung from a tree branch caught in the bramble along the edge of the gorge, trees and brush growing from the rugged sides.

They stood high on the cliffside, fifty feet above the turbulent, rising creek, and now she moved to the edge, her knees nearly buckling, save for Moose’s hand on her arm.

“It doesn’t mean she’s in the water, Til. Just breathe.”

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