“That won’t make me less safe than I would be at home.”

He didn’t have an answer to that one. Was she really just as comfortable in the woods as inside her cabin, though? He’d have to say probably yes, judging by the way she’d behaved in the middle of the night.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Not long until landing. Wyatt didn’t have time to sort this out, and as soon as they landed he’d pick up the troopers, whom he was fairly certain Elsie wouldn’t want to talk in front of. Did that matter? Or should he force the issue? No, that didn’t sit well.

“I don’t know. I guess... I just wanted someone to know. Pray or something if you want. That’s what your sister would do.”

He pushed past the fact that she spoke about prayer in a strange way, like maybe she only half believed in it. “Have you talked to Lindsay about this?”

“I texted to tell her I was fine after I had texted her during the break-in. She was worried. I meant to talk to her on the phone, but never did.”

“But you didn’t tell her anything about your suspicions or the fact that it might not be random?”

Elsie shook her head.

“Good. Don’t.”

She frowned.

“If someone’s after you, and you keep ignoring it, you’re putting people around you in danger, too. I don’t want my sister involved in something dangerous.”

“I’m not putting anyone at risk on purpose, believe me.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Sounds like you think it is.”

“Wait just a few minutes.” Wyatt blew out a breath, went through his pre-landing sequence and brought the plane down on the runway in Homer. He taxied and parked before turning to look at Elsie.

“I’m glad you told me.”

“But you said...”

“I just want you to be careful. I think you should keep this close to the vest right now unless you’re going to tell law enforcement. I don’t want to see any more people hurt or targeted.”

He watched as she seemed to internalize his words.

“Do you mind that I told you?”

“Of course not.”

Her gaze held his for a moment, then two.

“Okay. Thank you,” Elsie said, her voice a little out of breath, and Wyatt felt like he’d maybe passed some sort of unspoken test.

“You’re welcome. I have to meet the others. We’ll talk later?”

He didn’t wait for Elsie to agree, just climbed out of the plane and walked over to where the two troopers, both men, stood. He helped them load their gear—minimal, troopers knew better than to overpack for something like this—into the plane and then they were back in the air, on their way to the coordinates he’d been given.

As they drew closer, he noticed Elsie grow quieter. She’d been chatting with the troopers, about Willow and search and rescue and her recent save of a kid. Wyatt had read about that one in the paper.

Now she seemed uneasy. More so than before.

The ocean beneath them was angry, the waves dark and thick enough to see from the air. They were still half an hour out from the coordinates.

Wyatt glanced over at her. She was pressed to the window, looking down. Was her face paler than it had been a few minutes ago? As the pilot, his job was to get them safely to their destination, but he also felt responsible for his passengers’ well-being in general. Or that was what he told himself.

“You all right?”

She turned to him. Nodded. He wasn’t imagining things. She looked clammy.

“Are you sure—”

“Wyatt, please.” Her voice was pleading and he nodded once, then forced himself to focus his attention on the plane. Compartmentalize.

The two law enforcement officers in the rear seats continued to chat with each other, but Wyatt paid little attention. When it was finally time to land, it required all his focus to the point that he could no longer worry about Elsie or anything else. The sea was choppier than he preferred for water landings, but it was nothing outside his skill level. Easing the plane down, he made a fairly smooth landing and then brought the plane as close to the island as possible.

He managed to beach the plane on the shore in such a way that his passengers should be able to climb out the door, walk down the float and step directly onto sand instead of wading through water. He’d noticed that like any practical Alaskan, Elsie was wearing Xtratuf boots, brown fishing boots that came high up the calf and were all-purpose wear up here. She’d be fine even if she had to step in a little bit of water.

They all scrabbled out, and he stood by the plane and watched as the troopers briefed her on the situation. Elsie still looked unsettled, but he believed in her ability to find the missing person. It was clear that Elsie’s dog was special. Hopefully they would be able to find whoever it was. Elsie could take care of them, he was sure of it.

But who was going to take care of Elsie?

The question sneaked in uninvited, but he still wondered at the answer.

When the troopers walked higher on the shore and she turned to look at him, he motioned her closer.

“What do you need?” she asked, looking up at him in a way that made him wish he were a better man.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Why?”

“Your face...your expression...”

“Oh.” She looked away. “It’s just this place.”

“Not a fan of remote islands?”

“Not ones around here.”

She met his eyes again, held his gaze and shook her head slowly. As she did, understanding started to dawn, and Wyatt felt his stomach waver uneasily.

“It was an island not far from here where I was left as a kid.”

“As a kid?”

“A three-year-old.” She swallowed hard and Wyatt thought her eyes might be shining with unshed tears.