The Killing Cycle

People have a nasty habit of dying around him. More often than not, women - although they certainly don't hold a monopoly on pissing him off. But trouble is looming, and it's his own stupid fault. He got careless. Now there's a nasty chunk of skin that should still be on his ass, under her fingernails - a major inconvenience, and pretty damn sore, too. Resourceful and adaptable, he decides it might be time for a sabbatical.
Somewhere remote. Somewhere sparsely populated. Somewhere he can keep himself out of trouble. and maybe even make a bit of money. Somewhere like Alaska. Back home, Darla - the frustrated lead detective tasked with finding him - is baffled when the killings abruptly stop. Relieved, yes. But she knows the truth: one more body and they would have had him. He pulled out just in time. He's always been good at practicing safe killing.
Fate, however, is a whimsical beast. Neither our intrepid, bear-framing psychopath nor the determined Darla could have predicted that a simple chain of coincidences - and one very pissed-off woman - would tie everything together with a neat little bow. Or at least, a neat little roll of wire. Things are not going to end well. But for whom?