The little town, with all its tourist shops, has kept me entertained, and although the nagging feeling won’t go away, I have been safe here.
I sigh as I grab my coat and head out of the door. Maybe, it would be better to stay a while longer. There have been no signs of Johnson and Moore, and I should not let my panic take over.
It’s a brisk fifteen-minute walk to the coffee shop, and the little bell above the door jingles when I open it. Wonderful coffee aromas flood my nose, and I know I am not ready to give that up yet.
“There you are,” Jack waves to me from across the cozy room.
Several other people sit dispersed throughout the coffee shop, talking quietly, sipping their coffee, or eating their meal. Crisp white tablecloths grace every table, topped with another flowery table runner.
“Hey, Jack. It’s getting colder already,” I say as I shrug out of my coat and take a seat opposite him.
“They say we have bad weather coming in. One of the locals told me that they are expecting an early winter.”
“Oh, great,” I huff.
“Did you still want to get some more hiking done?”
I play with my napkin. I have come to like Jack and our daily coffees, and I hate lying to him.
“Yeah, I have all my routes planned out.”
“Well, if it turns bad, you can always come back with me on Friday. The offer still stands.”
“Thanks, Jack, let’s play it by ear. I’ll talk to the guys over at the hiking shop and hear what they have to say.”
“You do that, son,” Jack replies, nodding.
The chubby waitress saunters over to take our order, and Jack and I look up at her.
“Oh, hi, Mandy, how are you today?” I wink at her.
Mandy’s permanently ruddy cheeks bulge as she graces us with a bright smile. She’s come to like us, and we now get free biscuits with our coffee.
The fact this is the second last time I’ll be sitting here with Jack before he goes back home does not diminish my appetite as I dive into the stack of flapjacks with bacon and syrup. Jack’s ordered his usual bacon and eggs.
My ‘hiking’ around Whitehorse has, so far, been limited to two expeditions up the trails, but if I am staying longer, I will need to investigate the other hiking trails of the region.
This is a lovely little town, but with nothing better to do than to browse tourist and coffee shops, I will, eventually, go mad. I need to run.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jack says, “if you’ve nowhere else to be, you’re welcome to spend Christmas with us.”
I look up into his kind, brown eyes. Jack has been a friend to me this past week, and the offer floods me with warmth, but he lives too close to home.
“Thanks, Jack. If I am back that side, I’ll pop by. I’d love to meet your family.” I smile, but I hate lying to him.
Jack pats my hand, and I can see he accepts my answer, but he would have liked it if I had just said yes.
The little doorbell of the coffee shop jingles, and Jack and I both briefly look up. It’s a couple of tourists, and they move to a table one over from us.
One of the women complains about something, and I don’t usually listen to other peoples’ conversations, but this has my hackles raised.
“Flashing his badge as if it means something in this country, ha,” she spits. “That bloody Anchorage cop can find his own bloody parking.”
The others laugh while they take off their jackets, but when they take a seat, they change the subject, and I hear no more about the cop.
An icy shiver runs down my back, and I have to force myself to carry on eating as if nothing has happened. Jack now tells me about this new medicine for dogs, and I nod in all the right places.
It takes all my willpower to keep my facial expressions relaxed, and Jack and I finish our meal, and we part our ways with a promise to meet again before he leaves on Friday afternoon.
The moment Jack is out of sight, I cross the road and dart between two houses. The hood of my parka covers my face, and I don’t think anyone recognized me going across.
My heart pounds, but I take slow, even breaths as I make my way back to the motel via back roads and then across the fields around the airport.
I don’t stop until I’m safely in my room, and I’ve drawn the curtains. My hands shake a little, and I press them flat on the bed as I sit there, contemplating my next move.
The tourists could have been talking about any cop, but I know it was Johnson or Moore that so arrogantly flashed his badge at them. I can feel it; the danger suddenly so close.
The cops have effectively made my choice for me now - my only option is to leave.
Even though I’ve considered it before, now that I am forced to go, it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I am not built to be a flight animal. The thought of running, again, turns my stomach.
For a moment, I think about luring Johnson and Moore up one of the hiking trails and facing them there, wolf to wolf. My chances wouldn’t be good - two to one - but I would go down fighting, and they would have the scars to prove it.
My sister’s face flashes before my eyes. Leah’s last words repeat in my head.
“Please, Logan, stay safe, whatever you do. Promise me.”
I did promise her. I made the sacrifice of leaving to keep them safe - and now I need to keep myself safe to keep my promise.
My heart sinks further, knowing that Jack will be at the coffee shop tomorrow, not knowing why I’m not there. He’ll probably come here and not get any answers.
Taking a deep breath, I rise from the bed and gather my things. It doesn’t take long to pack my few belongings into my bag, but when I get to the door, I hesitate.
If I check out, it will put a time stamp on my departure. If the cops were to trace me here, they would know exactly when I left and how much lead I had on them.
I walk back across the room and open a window. The car park is nearly empty, and there isn’t a soul in sight. Quickly, I drop my bag to the gravel below, then close the window.
I throw the key onto the bed, then flick the lever on the door into the lock position before closing it behind me.
“Heading back into town,” I say to the clerk at the front desk on my way out.
“Sure thing,” he waves at me. “Just make sure you’re back before dark, man. There’s weather coming in.”
Great. Things are moving from bad to worse at a rapid pace.
I hurry around the motel and walk down the parking lot at a brisk walk. I don’t want to run and draw attention; the hairs at the back of my neck stand erect with tension.
When I get to my bag, I take a moment to look around before I pick it up. Everything is as it was when I looked out of the window earlier. I don’t think the cops are here yet.
The bag settles heavily on my shoulders as I stride away from the motel. It’s all open ground here, and I have to trust that the cops are still looking for me on the other side of town.
The Alaska Highway leads away from my motel, and I follow it as it winds its way between what’s left of Whitehorse and then on into the wilderness.
It’s freezing out in the open, and even walking isn’t helping to warm me. By the time I reach the relative shelter of where the road winds between the forest, again, I stop to add a hat and gloves to my outfit.
How did the temperature drop so quickly? It must have plummeted by twenty degrees in the short time I was in my room.