Page 6 of Smoky Lake

“What are you talking about? Who’s they?”

“Could be anyone…Big Pharma, China, Russia, Timbuktu, the angels, the grasshoppers…”

Gil pulled the phone away from his face and frowned at it. Had he blamed grasshoppers? The man did not sound like himself. Gil had known Victor for a few years now, but he was primarily Lachlan’s friend—both were scientists, both loved big ideas, both preferred nature to people. Gil’s friendship with Victor was built around mountain climbing and cold beers around a campfire, not ethnobotany, which was his field.

“What did you tell them?” Victor was asking.

“Nothing. How could I? I never understand your research anyway.”

“Good. Just don’t. Don’t tell them shit. Please, Gil. Promise me.”

“Don’t worry, he’s already gone.”

“Good, good.” Was that the sound of panting? Was Victor hiking instead of back in his office at the University of Fairbanks?

“Where are you?”

“I can’t say. Hey, need a favor, Gil.”

“You mean, aside from blowing off a state trooper?”

He didn’t laugh, which was odd in itself. Victor usually had a great sense of humor. “There was a woman at the airport, she was going to Firelight Ridge. They might be after her too. Don’t trust anyone. Keep her safe. Promise me. Name’s Annie, something like that. Promise you’ll protect her. Say it.”

He’d never heard Victor talk like this. Why would an ethnobotanist be of interest to a mysterious “they”?

Maybe Victor had had a few too many six-packs at his last campfire and was still under the influence.

That wouldn’t explain the state trooper.

Gil decided he might as well humor Victor. “I’ll keep an eye out for someone named Annie.”

“And protect her. I don’t want her to die because of me.”

“Die? Victor, what the hell…”

At that point, Victor launched onto another rambling tangent that Gil couldn’t make heads or tails of. And then the call dropped, along with the connection.

Breathing fast, Gil lingered at the overlook, hoping Victor might call him back. He tried calling himself, a few times, but only reached his voice mail.

A white-winged crossbill chittered nearby, answered by another one. He gazed down into the unnamed valley cut by an ancient river flowing from the ice fields. The river no longer existed, but the Korch Glacier still did. Around that corner, a few more miles into the wild, was one of his favorite spots in the world—Smoky Lake.

Victor had been staying out at Smoky Lake, at the research institute perched on one of the wooded overlooks. Gil hadn’t been out there yet this summer, but maybe he should go check it out. Maybe Victor had left behind some kind of clue as to why he was being investigated by a state trooper and possibly other mysterious unnamed “theys.”

All those thoughts ran through his mind as he pounded back down the trail toward his brother’s house.

And then things got even stranger. He nearly stumbled over a root when he caught sight of a woman standing on his brother’s porch, next to the snow grate, peering in the front picture window.

No one ever came all the way out here into the woods uninvited—especially not two people in one morning. The state trooper, now this woman he’d never seen before.

Red alarms all over the place.

“Hey,” he called as he jogged the last few yards. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The woman turned and a shock of disbelief traveled through him like an electrical current, blazing and unstoppable. She was stunningly beautiful, and even that seemed like an understatement. Her lush dark hair flowed in abundant waves around her shoulders. It might have looked black in other lighting, but the morning sunshine picked out notes of mahogany and copper. Her skin was like clover honey, her eyes just as dark as her hair, set wide apart under arched eyebrows.

She was a goddess in blue jeans and a suede jacket. But she looked a little…sad, maybe?

He wanted to throw himself at her feet. He wanted to beg her to smile. He wanted to run his hands through her hair and breathe deep.

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