What could she say to that? It was sweet that he felt that way, but something still worried the back of her mind, that if she were one of his friends he viewed as “strong,” whether they were male or female, would he worry less? Why didn’t he see her as strong?

They’d discussed too many heavy subjects over the past twenty-four hours, and much as she wanted to fight about it, Elsie did know she needed sleep, so she decided to leave that conversation alone.

The rest of the walk to the beach was made in silence, Elsie watching Willow closely for any signs of trouble and seeing none. Her heart felt like a weight this morning, her job more like a sentence than a calling.

Next time. She’d do better next time, put Willow in the right place so she’d be more likely to see success. Lists of things she could change ran through her mind even as a voice in her head reminded her that no matter how well she did “next time,” it wouldn’t fix it for this woman she’d been searching for and failed to find before it was too late.

There was an airplane waiting for them on the beach, manned by a pilot whom Wyatt greeted by name, which made Elsie feel better. Without much conversation, they boarded the plane and took off back to Destruction Point.

Looking out the window at the blues, greens and the browns that late summer was starting to show in patches, Alaska’s subtle giving-in to fall, Elsie still felt overwhelmed by the past couple of days. She was left with too many questions, the resolution insufficient to give her any measure of closure.

“You okay?” Wyatt asked, looking at her with concern in his eyes, but she didn’t want to talk in front of their pilot, so she just nodded. They could talk later.

Or maybe they’d return to town and go back to being exactly what they’d been before. Polite near strangers who sometimes saw each other at holidays.

Somehow, that made her as sad as anything else had today. Tired or not, Elsie vowed that the moment they reached town and she could get herself back to her cabin, she’d crawl into bed and go to sleep. She’d lock the doors and take precautions, of course, but she had to sleep. And at least that way she wouldn’t have to think.

ELEVEN

The ringing of her phone startled Elsie, who had been sitting at her small kitchen table, attempting to eat...breakfast? Lunch? It had been six in the morning when they’d arrived back in town, and she’d had a granola bar. Now it was ten and she was eating some ramen noodles she’d heated on the stove.

She reached for the phone, not knowing if she wanted it to be Wyatt or not. Her thoughts were all tangled up there. She hoped it might be Lindsay. It might be time to talk to her friend about...everything.

Unknown number. Hesitating for only a second, she answered. “Hello?”

“This is Trooper Richardson. I need to talk to you about the case. Are you alone?”

“Uh...yes. What’s going on?”

“The victim was not Noelle Mason.”

“What?” Questions flooded her mind. “So who was our missing person? How did we get the wrong victim profile?”

“I’m not explaining well. Noelle Mason is our missing person, and as far as we know, she’s still missing. The dead woman is someone else.”

Then Elsie hadn’t failed. Not yet, anyway. She was sitting in a warm kitchen, in dry clothes, eating a bowl of ramen noodles, while someone she could have the power to find was in the woods, possibly in danger. She shoved her chair back.

“Tell me more,” she said as she went to gather her gear.

“Preliminary investigation says the deceased is Rebecca Reyes.”

“Wait—the woman who was hiking with Noelle Mason in the first place? She’s the one who made the missing-person call. Did she go back to search for her friend without telling anyone?”

“It’s too early to say. I’ll admit it is unusual, but the troopers are looking into it.”

Elsie could take a hint that she’d pried as far as she was going to be able to. As a K-9 SAR worker, law enforcement sometimes kept her in the loop, as much as ethics would allow. And sometimes she never heard another word about a case she’d worked, except what she could read in the newspaper, the same as anyone else. Switching focus, she said, “I have to find Noelle. If the attacker is still on the island...”

“Given the experience you had last night and the danger you were in, a decision was made to pull you from this search and ask another K-9 and handler to fly in.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening. Rationally, she understood that another team could do the job. It didn’t have to be her and Willow looking. What mattered was finding the victim, not who found her.

It still stung and she took a deep breath and the trooper continued.

“But no one is available, no one with the experience needed to work this kind of terrain, with a dog who is trained in both human remains and live search tactics.”

His phrasing of the second part wasn’t quite right, but Elsie knew what he meant. She had a scent dog who could work with overall scent, or trailing a particular scent, as well as being able to find the missing person if the worst happened and they were not alive.

“So it’s me and Willow?”

“If you’re still willing. I should mention... Not all my coworkers think anyone should be out here. It’s clear someone dangerous was on the island, possibly still is. They’re investigating for any signs of other planes or boats, and we are considering it dangerous. It’s a massive risk you’d be taking.”

She took a deep breath. No one else was available. Which meant they couldn’t take her off the case if she told them the information she’d been withholding. Information that law enforcement needed now. “Trooper Richardson, there’s something else you need to know. I was attacked in my house four nights ago. The man knew my name and said something about my past and finding me. I heard the same voice on the island the day I was shot at, and again after Wyatt’s plane was set on fire. I wanted to find Noelle and not be taken off the case, which is why I didn’t say anything. I should have and I’m sorry. I would very much like to search if you’re still willing to have me.”

The hesitation on the other end of the line confirmed all her worst fears and Elsie almost wished she’d kept quiet. But not quite, because if people’s lives were at stake, she had to do anything she could to give law enforcement any information they could use.

“Thank you for telling me,” he finally said.

“Can I stay on this search?”

“Are you still willing? Especially if there’s a personal connection like you’re saying...”

“Still willing.”

“We’ll send a plane as soon as possible.”

“Thank you. I’ll be on it.”

She hung the phone up, adrenaline already pumping through her. The nap she’d gotten would have to be enough. That and the strong instant coffee she planned to add to her supplies in her backpack.

As she packed, she glanced once or twice at her phone on the table. It seemed to mock her with its presence.

Should she call Wyatt?

He’d want to know. He’d made the search better and she’d needed him, if she was honest, but... At the end of the day, this wasn’t his fight, no matter how much he was willing to make it that. And with his concussion, he wouldn’t be her pilot. Could she bring a regular civilian untrained in SAR work on a search when there wasn’t a solid reason for him to be there?

This was where a little more sleep might have come in handy, easing her tangled mind and helping her to make better decisions, but right now Elsie didn’t think calling him was the right thing to do.

She loaded herself and Willow into her boat, prepared for yet another trip over to town. This week of back-and-forth boat trips was almost enough to make her wonder what it would be like to live in town. Instead she fought with the wind as it tossed her hair in her face while she pulled up anchor and readied the boat, then fought with the waves as she drove the boat toward the town docks.

After disembarking, she found her eye drawn to the slip where Wyatt kept his boat. It was there, which was what she’d expected. Of course he would be home, probably with a malamute glued to his side. He’d texted once this morning about the dog apparently missing his company, and sent a picture of his face smooshed against Sven’s fluffy brown face. He’d told her Lindsay had been feeding him while he’d been gone working with her so much, but apparently it wasn’t the same to Sven as having his owner home.

The text seemed to indicate that he wanted to keep being friends, and Elsie thought that was probably better than nothing... But she needed time. She still felt raw from all they’d been through together, then just abruptly separating as they had.

The small local airport looked the same as it had when she’d last boarded Wyatt’s plane. Had that only been yesterday morning? She still hated that his plane had been another casualty of this case. She didn’t feel right about him losing something on her behalf.

He’d have said she didn’t force him to help, that he’d wanted to and it was all worth it to him. How could a man say things like that and still define himself by the utter jerk he had been in his past? Clearly Wyatt had changed.

And clearly he wasn’t ever going to leave her mind alone, since she was standing here looking around to find her pilot, thinking of what he would say.