Page 1 of Smoky Lake

1

To Ani Devi, the tiny outpost of Firelight Ridge, tucked into the remote mountains of Alaska, always felt like a different universe. In this faraway world, none of the rules that governed her life seemed to apply—her old life, that is.

Now, she was at a crossroads, so who knew anymore?

Generally speaking, Ani believed in rules. Rules kept traffic from being pure chaos. Rules kept people from being their worst selves. Grammar rules made language understandable. The laws of gravity kept the furniture in its place. A world without rules of any kind would be incomprehensible to her—even though rules got broken all the time. Better a few broken rules than none at all.

At least that was how pre-divorce Ani had seen things.

Post-divorce Ani…well, post-divorce Ani was still figuring out who she was and what she believed. But one thing she knew was that she’d followed the rules and John hadn’t and now her entire relationship with rules was up for negotiation.

But the Alaska State Trooper standing in the doorway of her suite at the Fire Peak Lodge wasn’t here for a rambling stream-of-consciousness meditation on the nature of rules. He was here for…what, again?

“I’m sorry, have I done something wrong or illegal?”

“I couldn’t say. Have you?”

What?

The trooper was an older man with a large belly and signs of high blood pressure in the florid color of his cheeks and nose. As a pediatrician, she didn’t deal with a lot of heart attack or stroke victims, but she knew enough to warn him about the risks of a high-fat, high-cholesterol diet. No doubt he’d heard it all before and wouldn’t welcome that kind of input from someone he was…what, interrogating?

“I don’t believe so,” she said carefully. “But if you could give me some idea of what you’re here for…”

“Let’s start with your name and address.” The trooper had a badge—definitely legitimate—and wore a round-topped hat with a wide brim, official issue. The name on the badge was Clay Roberts. Why would Trooper Clay Roberts need her address?

“My name is Ani Devi, and I’m currently between addresses.”

“Between?” He cocked his head at her with a frown.

Because I’d rather die than go back to the house in Indiana where my marriage spent the last six years slowly rotting away. “Is that relevant to whatever you’re here for?”

“No. But we need contact information in case someone has to follow up.”

“Follow up on what?” She folded her arms across her chest, making it clear he needed to get to the point.

He got the message. “Were you in the Blackbear Airport on the twenty-sixth of July around three pm?”

That was the day she’d flown here to Firelight Ridge.

“I was. My flight to Firelight Ridge left at four. I was waiting for them to weigh my luggage.”

“What were you traveling to Firelight Ridge for?”

Escaping. Mourning. Rethinking her entire existence. “Visiting friends. Why?”

“Did you talk to anyone at the airport?”

“Of course. I talked to the girl who checked me in. The pilot, Sam Coburn, came out and said hi. He’s a friend. I’m sure I probably said hello to a few other people.”

She tried to bring back more details of that time in the airport, but things here had been a real roller-coaster since then.

“Did you speak to a…Victor Canseco?” He had to check his notebook to get the name right.

“Not that I know of. I don’t recognize the name.”

“Late thirties, Hispanic, wearing a denim shirt and blue jeans.”

Then it clicked. “Oh! Yes. The sick man.”

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