Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Brock scrubbed a hand through his thick hair. “Hey. Did you see Damian actually in town last night?”
Ace glanced up. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”
Brock frowned. “I don’t know. He doesn’t usually come to town except for lunch once in a while.”
Ace flexed his ankle on the floor. “He just had something I wanted him to look into.”
Brock’s eyes sharpened. “What?”
Ace smirked. He wasn’t going to share May’s business. That was up to her. “Nothing you need to worry about. Today, anyway.”
“Hmph,” Brock muttered.
The tavern door slammed open hard enough to rattle the glass. A young woman rushed inside, breathless, her eyes wide as she scanned the room before locking onto Brock. “Hey—are you the sheriff?”
Brock straightened immediately. “Yeah.”
“Oh, good.” Relief washed across her face. “The lady down at the sheriff station told me you’d be here.” She looked barely past twenty with long black hair falling around her shoulders and pretty brown eyes bright with panic. Freckles dusted across her nose. She wore touristy jean shorts with a pink T-shirt showing a bear caught on a boat. “My friend didn’t come back last night.”
Ace stiffened. Crap. They hadn’t had to search for a lost person since early winter.
Brock shifted into calm authority. “Okay. Slow down. Who’s your friend?”
“Laura. Laura Jordan.” The woman wrung her hands, her cheeks pale beneath the flush of exertion. “We’re up here with a bunch of friends from Montana State for a couple of weeks.”
Brock glanced at his watch. “When did you last see Laura?”
“Last night here at the tavern,” she said.
Ophelia stood. “Where are you staying?”
“At the Blue Beaver Campground.” The words tumbled out quickly. “We went river rafting yesterday, and we were supposed to go fishing later today, but there’s a bad storm moving in, so we decided to wait until tomorrow. I mean, once we find Laura.” She wrung her hands. “I took a migraine pill and pretty much passed out last night. She didn’t come back.”
“Okay. Take a deep breath.” Brock dropped several bills onto the table, the motion automatic. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt, his gun strapped to his thigh in plain view, badge catching the morning light.
Ophelia stood beside him in jeans and a crisp white shirt. The weather had turned warm enough that she’d skipped her usual jacket, though the alertness never left her posture. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Candy. Candy Nelson.”
“Okay, Candy,” Ophelia said. “Start with the night at the bar and run us through what happened.”
Candy pushed dark hair back from her face, her fingers trembling. “It was a normal night. We partied, drank a bit, and played some pool. A few games of darts. I had a headache. I’d been drinking, so I went back to the campground.”
“By yourself?” Brock asked.
“Yeah.” She nodded quickly. “Everyone else was still here, partying. It was light out, so it didn’t feel like a big deal. It’s only about a mile walk, and it’s awesome being able to see daylight for twenty-four hours.”
Ophelia drew her phone from her back pocket. “How many people are in Alaska with you?”
“Um, there are seven of us. Four girls and three guys.” Candy swallowed. “We’re in the Kappa Rho sorority and the guys are from Sigma Eta. We planned the trip during finals week, figuring we’d have some fun in Alaska. I follow a few of the influencers who explored here last year, and it seemed like a fun place.”
Those damn influencers. Ace turned all the way to listen. If they had to start searching for the young woman, he wanted the details. “Did all of you walk to the bar last night?” he asked.
“No. We rented a couple of four-wheelers and rode them through town and to the bar.” She shrugged. “But I walked home because, why not?”
Brock’s gaze stayed fixed on her. “Then what?”
“My head hurt really bad, so I took some migraine medicine and went to sleep.” Her cheeks flushed faintly. “When I woke up this morning, Laura wasn’t there. I figured she went back with Tyler to his tent for the night.”
Ophelia’s tone didn’t change. “Who’s Tyler?”
“A guy in our group who she’s been hooking up with lately.” Candy shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “But they got into a fight last night, and when I checked with him this morning, he said he hadn’t seen her.”
Brock crossed his arms.
“He said he left the bar around midnight,” Candy continued. “That Laura was still here partying with some tourists. Older guys. They were all wearing flannels.”
Amka listened from behind the bar.
“Is it possible she left with one of them?” Brock asked.
Candy shook her head hard. “No. I don’t think so. She likes Tyler, and Laura wouldn’t just go off with strangers.” She paused as she obviously thought it through. “She would’ve only left with Tyler. I’m sure of it.”
Brock’s tone flattened. “All right.”