As busy as the bar was, the rest of the town felt dead. It was beautiful, like a postcard, with snow blanketing the roofs and lantern-style streetlights lining the dirt roads, but also a little spooky. She turned down a side street, hoping to find someone to talk to. So far, she’d only run into a couple of shop owners and a father and daughter out for a stroll, none of whom knew Henry.
Back in Chicago, she’d be tripping over people. And yet, in some ways, she felt more connected to Colter here than she ever had to anyone in the city. Her apartment was great, a stone’s throw from the lake, a brisk walk to work. Back home, she was always on the move. Going full speed from performances to working with cold-case groups to get attention for Alanna’s kidnapping to a decently full social life. It was busy, but something was missing. And not just her sister.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slowed down and really enjoyed life. Since she’d been in Desparre, she’d been moving at warp speed, too, searching for any possible leads before it was too late. And yet she’d had time to linger over cobbler and cocoa with Colter. Had time to relax with Rebel, pet her soft fur and enjoy the dog’s contagious happiness. Had time to look out Colter’s big window at the amazing scenery below and just be.
Two days in Alaska and here she was, rethinking the choices she’d made in her life. But she’d always done what seemed right, from trying to look after her brother during those years her parents were lost in the search for Alanna to trying to make them proud of her. Trying to make up for letting Alanna get taken in the first place and keep her sister’s legacy alive through music.
Would Alanna even like the violin today? Kensie had no way of knowing, but every time she picked up the instrument, she felt her sister’s spirit. It kept Kensie connected to Alanna in a way nothing else could. But had she traded her own path for the things she thought would make her parents proud, keep their love strong after what she’d done? Had she traded a chance to really live her life for the whirlwind that kept her from thinking too much about what she’d lost and what she really wanted?
The idea made anxiety rise in her chest until she clutched a hand there. It actually physically hurt. And she suspected it was only a fraction of the pain Colter felt whenever he suddenly seemed overcome by memories.
She couldn’t dwell on it very long because, up the street, a man who looked like he topped six feet, with gray-streaked brown hair and a heavy jean jacket, stepped out of a store. Her heart rate took off and she walked faster, wanting to get close without his spotting her. Could it be Henry Rollings?
He headed away from her, walking with long strides, but not seeming to realize she was behind him. It was him. Okay, she wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure. It was the same jacket she’d seen earlier, the same dark hair, shot through with gray.
Swallowing back her nerves, Kensie glanced behind her as Henry turned the corner up ahead. Where was he going? And where was Colter? If Henry really was connected to her sister’s disappearance, she wasn’t sure she wanted to face him alone. An ex-Marine with a shotgun at her side seemed like a good idea about now.
She dug in her pocket for her cell phone to text Colter just as Henry turned a corner. Scared of losing him, Kensie shifted from a fast walk to a jog. When she turned the corner after him, she slowed, stepping more carefully, softly. She didn’t dare slip her phone out of her pocket now, afraid it would make too much noise. Even her breathing seemed too loud here.
There’d been a handful of people around on the last street, but this one was totally empty. The stores here were all dark, alleyways and parking lots dimly lit and quiet. Just the man she hoped was Henry Rollings striding along ahead of her. She had no idea where he was going. It didn’t seem like there was anything here, unless his truck was down an alleyway or in one of the tiny lots peppering the small openings between some of the stores.
Had he spotted her reflection in a store window as she chased after him? Was he leading her into a trap?
Slowly, she slid her hand deeper into her pocket, bypassing her phone and groping instead for the key to her rental truck. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was all she had. And there was no turning back now. Not if there was a chance he could lead her to Alanna.
She took another step and her right foot slid. Kensie pinwheeled her arms, trying to regain her balance as she realized there was slick ice underneath her.
Just as she caught traction again, the guy up ahead glanced back. His eyes widened at the sight of her. It was Rollings!
He whipped his head forward again and took off running.
Kensie raced after him, her new boots unfamiliar and sliding on random patches of ice. He turned another corner and tears pricked her eyes as she finally made it around the same spot.
He was gone.
She glanced both ways, desperately searching for a glimpse of him or any hint of where he could have gone. One way led to another alley and maybe back to the main part of town. The other led off into a group of freestanding storage units. And walking into those storage units, was that...?
Kensie craned her head forward, squinting into the darkness. A woman with dark, shoulder-length hair. Something familiar about the slope of her shoulders, the shape of her head. Was it even possible?
“Alanna!” Her sister’s name erupted from her mouth in a desperate, high-pitched
