Page 97 of One Last Shot

She strapped on a harness and reached for the big survival pack.

Oaken took it from her and put it on. She gave him a look but he ignored her. “Clip in,” he said.

She slid close, then clipped her carabiner into the winch hook.

“Did you take a walkie?” he said.

“Yes. Axel, put us down.”

The winch started to move, and he grabbed her harness, held her to himself as they dangled from the chopper. The wind tried to grab them again, but he kept his eyes on the ground and landed, steadying her as she also touched down.

She unhooked and then released him. “Bring it up, Axe.”

The winch went up.

“I’m going to bring her back to the lodge, but I’ll be right back,” Moose said. “You two keep the line open.”

“Roger,” Boo said. She looked at Oaken. “Now where?”

He shook his head. “Lydia said someone was chasing them. If it were me, I’d run into the forest.” He lookedaround at the trek behind him, then a wooden bridge cluttered with snow and ice, some two hundred yards upstream. It led into a dense forest, but more importantly... “There’s a trail. And according to the map of the resort, I think that leads to a summer equipment hut for the whitewater service.”

“Good memory.”

Moose had spun out and away and now left them alone on the riverbank. They hiked back up over the slippery stones.

“Who do you think was chasing her?” Oaken said.

“I don’t know.”

“Reminds me of what you said in the car—about the Midnight Sun Killer. Maybe he’s out here.”

She looked at him. “I hope you’re kidding.”

Maybe now wasn’t the time, but wow, she was pretty, even in her puffy snowmobile suit, her hair tufted out of her stocking cap. His own words came back to him.“So don’t die on me, and... we’ll continue this little chat when we get back.”

But what was he going to say? That he didn’t want to leave?

Maybe. Something about this life, this purpose, tugged at him.

“Hey. Is that a hat?” Boo ran up to something grimy, crushed against the rocks in the water.

Yes, a hat, soggy and soiled. Her eyes widened, and she handed it over to Oaken.

Sewn across the brim were the wordsBride to Be.

“It could have floated downstream,” he said.

She nodded, got up, and headed toward the bridge. He caught up. The bridge spanned the river, maybe ten feet over the rapids, cluttered with snow and ice along the footpath and railings. He held on to the railing, right behind her as they crossed.

On the other side, a new layer of snow obscured any tracks, but indentations suggested recent steps. She plowed through the crusty snow, high stepping, her feet plunging in,breaking through the icy layer. Not as deep here in the woods, the snow was crunchy, the dim light turning the forest into a horror movie.

Moose’s voice came through the radio. “Where are you guys?”

Boo lifted her walkie. “We took the bridge. We’re on the opposite side, heading to a supply shack on the western edge of the resort.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

She clipped the walkie onto her pack strap. “Funny that no one thought to look out here.”