Page 10 of One Last Stand
Wow,she loved this man.
She couldn’t, just couldn’t, break his heart again.
More—and the thought struck her like a blade to the heart—if she went inside, told him she was alive . . . well, how wasshesupposed to tear herself away?
No.If she went in there, she stayed.
And that’s when she really put his life in danger.
He picked up the dog, and the animal lifted its snout to lick his chin. Then, again, he stared out into the night.
In the light, she could make out his tight jaw, the emotion in his eyes.
Her breath turned to glue in her chest. Her eyes burned.
And she couldn’t help but put her hand to the window.
Goodbye, Shep.
He sighed and disappeared into the house.
London put her car into gear, and slowly, finally, pulled away from the curb.
CHAPTER2
“This handsome guy was just standing on your deck?” The question came from Anchorage detective Flynn Turnquist, who crouched in the lobby of the Tooth, the headquarters for the Air One Rescue team, located at Merrill Field on the north side of Anchorage. Her hands rubbed the floppy black ears of his visitor slash new roommate, and the dog leaned its head to one side and groaned, something deep and happy emanating from the inside.
“Yeah,” Shep said, setting the coffeepot back into the maker and coming around the giant island that separated the kitchen from the main area—a long table where they held conferences, and a seating area complete with worn leather furniture and a table in the center, all facing a flatscreen television. When the team wasn’t working out, training, or tending to their equipment, they watched a lot ofMacGyverandMagnum, P.I.Moose loved the old shows, and he’d made a convert out of all of them.
With the advent of the season’s first snowfall, the tourist season had died down, and with it, their callouts, although hunting season had begun. Still, that left more time for workouts, training, and downtime.
That would end with the first real blizzard, however.
He couldn’t wait for something to take his mind off London.
“The light went on outside, and I wasn’t sleeping, so I got up and found him,” Shep said as he walked over to Flynn. “He was eating some beef jerky. He’d gotten into my trash. I had a T-bone steak the other night for dinner and set the bone outside . . .”
“Poor guy. He was hungry.”
“And thirsty. Drank about a gallon, then went for the eternal drinking fountain in the bathroom. I shut that down. He slept in my laundry room.” He crouched beside the dog. “After I gave him a bath.”
“He’s pretty,” said Axel from where he sat at the table, scrolling through his phone. “What kind is he?”
“I dunno. Sort of looks like a black lab.”
“Except for this brown patch here,” said Flynn, indicating the fur on his chest. “And his snout is too narrow. Doberman, all the way.”
“Maybe a mixed breed,” said Shep. “Anyway, he’s a good dog. He didn’t whine once, and when I told him to lie down, he immediately obeyed me. I’m going to take him into a shelter and see if he’s chipped.”
“What if he’s not? Are you going to keep him?” Flynn stood up. She wore her auburn hair back, a pair of leggings tucked into boots, an oversized tunic. Makeup. Maybe they’d come from morning worship. Since she’d saved the life of Axel Mulligan, Moose’s brother, and they’d begun dating, they’d started attending a local church.
Two years and Shep still hadn’t found a place to worship.
Hadn’t really looked, honestly, so that was on him.
“I can’t?—”
Axel looked over at Shep, frowned.