“Maybe even with cheese,” Edna added with a reluctant smile.

“I’m hoping for some nice, salty potato chips to go along with that burger.”

“A dill pickle would be nice. You’d probably like that, right?”

Evelyn laughed. “I’m not one for pickles, even now that I’m pregnant.”

The moment they heard Lyman returning, Edna scrambled away. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with him, couldn’t even bear to look at him. And that gave Evelyn no choice. She had to be the one to remain at the slot, had to get him to talk to her. Otherwise, they’d learn nothing.

“Here it is.” Lyman shoved two large hamburgers with grilled onions through the slot. There were no potato chips or cheese, but two triangles of watermelon sat beside the burgers on their makeshift cardboard tray.

Evelyn took the food and handed it back to Edna. “Dinner looks amazing,” she said. “Thank you.”

He seemed gratified by her response. “I added soup mix to the meat. That’ll make it more flavorful.”

“I can’t wait to try it. Are you having a burger, too?”

“I ate mine while making yours.”

“I see. So … have you found another place for us to go?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.”

Her stomach tightened. They couldn’t leave here! “Where is it?” she asked. And if he’d found what he was looking for, why the heck was he in such a foul mood?

“In the interior.”

“The interior?”

“That’s what they call it, isn’t it? It’s inland.”

“Do you mean Fairbanks?” There were other towns in Alaska’s interior, but that was the largest.

He hesitated, obviously reluctant to get specific, but then he said it was Fairbanks, as if he couldn’t see any danger in telling her that much.

Evelyn’s heart sank when he confirmed it. That was so far away. “Why there?” she asked.

He bristled. “You have something against Fairbanks?”

“It’s just … it’s so cold.”

“I know.” He sounded a little less unhinged. “But we’ll have a heater. We’ll be fine.”

“When will we be leaving?”

“As soon as I can get the darn paperwork so I can sign it and take possession. It’s hard to rent a house these days.”

“The owner probably expects you to see it first, right? And to meet you. Are you going up there?”

“I’ve been talking to a leasing company. They only care about the money. They want to know I’ll be a good credit risk, so I’m working on that. It’s tricky when you’re using a fake ID.”

That he might have to use his own Social Security number, which would help Amarok trace him, gave her hope. But then he added, “Terry assured me I’d be able to do whatever I wanted with the ID he got me, so … we’ll see.”

“Who’s Terry?”

He suddenly whipped around as though someone were coming up behind him.

“What is it?” Evelyn asked.

“The dogs are barking,” he said, and slammed the slot closed.