Page 45 of Falling For Alaska

“When you say it like that…yes. But it wasn’t like that…everyone was going there.” Yet his carefully chosen words fall on my shoulders like an axe of guilt. I should have known better. I’m the one to blame. He scratches something with his pen, then tilts his head. “I…” My stomach twists. “The ice looked thick enough.”

His jaw tightens, just slightly. “That’s not what I asked, Ms. Jenkins.” Leaning forward, elbows on the table, he asks again. “Did you enter a restricted area? Yes or no?” I look down at my hands. Battered and bruised, dried blood still filling the cracks around my nails.

“Yes,” I whisper. His pen scratches again, sealing something I can’t take back. I stare at the desk, my pulse pounding in my ears. The truth doesn’t matter. This isn’t the county’s responsibility. I just admitted it on camera.

It’s all my fault.

Jack

“You’re good? Been all moody this morning,” Jared taunts as we make our way to another neighborhood of Lakeside after a family called us to help remove a tree from the road. I groan. The last call with Captain Raines put me on edge all week. It was hard enough to keep my composure in front of Alaska when she kissed me goodbye last week in her shop. But I’ve been carrying this weird pressure on my chest ever since.

“Wanna…um, talk 'bout it?” he asks, peeking at me while I’m driving. “Does it have to do with a certain big city you have to go back to in a few months?” He fakes a cough, then glances at me while I look away for a second. How the hell does he know that?

“M-maybe,” I grunt. We don’t talk for a few minutes before I park in front of a big wooden house. A man is outside, splitting logs. I recognize him. First call I ever responded to when I got here.

“Axel Callahan, right?” I call as I step out of the patrol car.

“Good memory,” he nods, shaking my hand firmly.

Jared follows. “Hey, Axel. How can we help?”

“Another tree fell overnight,” Callahan says, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s tall and built like a woodworker. Deep green olive shirt on, brown backward cap. “Guess it got weakened by the last storm, but didn’t break right away. It’s over there.” He motions toward the left side of the road. I go back to the car and grab ropes from the trunk. When I return, Jared smirks and shakes his head. I know what he’s thinking. I’m turning into a damn boy scout. Maybe I like it this way, better to get my hands dirty with something other than cocaine and drunk guys. We walk toward the massive tree blocking the road. As we’re getting close, I hear Callahan clear his throat. The faint sound of a name, Adrianna or Ria, leaves him.

Jared presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head. “Nah, sorry, Axel. No one’s seen her. Last time was, let me think… When we told you, yeah, last fall.”

Axel exhales sharply and nods. “Right. Thanks.”

“Any chance you could track her down?” Jared asks while I listen, fully aware Callahan doesn’t seem comfortable with me hearing whatever this is about.

“She’s off-grid,” Axel states. “She chose the wild.” His fingers curl into his palm. “Anyway, here’s the tree.” He waves at the giant piece of wood blocking the road. Jared side-glances at me with a look that clearly begs me to shut up, so I do. It takes us a whole hour to move the damn thing before we get back in the car and head straight to patrol around downtown.

“W-what was that about?” I ask, hands on the wheel.

“What’s what about?”

“The woman C-Callahan was t-talking about.”

“Ah, um, it’s his sister- well, not technically… It’s complicated,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What’s complicated?” I huff. “Either she’s his sister or she’s not.”

Jared lets out a tired sigh. “They aren’t blood-related. Foster siblings with messed up pasts. She wouldn’t talk to anyone but Axel. They were…close. Like…real close.” He raises his brows, expecting a reaction from me. “Damn, Jack, you’re slow this morning,” he laughs.

“Ah. You mean…I get it.”

“Yeah,” he says with a ragged breath. “Everyone thought so, but he never talked about it. You could tell he only had eyes for her, though.” He zeroes in on the road. “Anyway, he’s trying to locate her.”

“What ha-happened?” I frown.

“She went off-grid. One day, she just left, not even legal, if I remember. Some people choose that, you know? Go off-grid. Shut the world out and survive in the wild.” He looks out at the mountains as we drive toward downtown.

“Can’t he r-reach her or, uh, write t-to her?”

“Nah.” A reverse grin creeps onto his face. “Off-grid means there’s no ties to our lives here. No phones. No electricity. It’s wild, man.”

“How old is-is she?”

“Don’t remember exactly. Early twenties, for sure.”