Page 14 of Cole

"Hi," Janice said, dipping her chin in a nod.

"Hey." The woman smiled, friendly but reserved. She was maybe forty and didn’t look like someone who worked outside. Her skin was smooth and enhanced with soft makeup.

Janice wondered if she was an office worker for the mine. "You work for Northern Summit?"

"Yeah. Six months now." The woman dried her hands on a paper towel. "You?"

"Wildlife research." Janice kept her tone light, conversational. "Studying climate impacts on animal populations."

"That sounds really interesting." The woman checked her reflection, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "I'm Cheryl. Cheryl Whitten."

"Janice Lynch." She hesitated, then decided to take the risk. "Must be interesting work. The mining, I mean."

"Sometimes." Cheryl leaned against the sink, clearly in no hurry to return to her coworkers. "My father was a miner many years ago. I could say it’s in my blood, but to be honest, it’s a good paycheck. I'm one of the few women on the crew, so that's its own challenge, but the money's worth it."

“I know the feeling. My parents are both veterinarians, so it was in my blood, too. It was the only career I thought about pursuing.” Drying her hands, she asked, “Do you work near here?”

Something flickered across Cheryl's face, too quick to read. "Not too far.” She straightened and turned toward the door. "Nice meeting you, Janice. Stay safe out there during the storm."

"You too."

Janice washed her hands slowly, giving Cheryl time to get back to her table before emerging. When she returned to the bar, Donna had cleared her plate and left the promised slice of apple pie.

She took the take-out bag, but the hair on the back of her neck rose as she walked toward the door. She glanced toward the booth where the mining workers sat and found the group watching her. Cheryl was pointedly not looking in her direction, focused intently on her food, but the men watched unwaveringly.

One of the men said something in a low voice, and another laughed. Not friendly laughter. The kind that made her skin crawl.

Janice’s courage fled, and she headed out the door. The cold air hit her like a slap. She walked to her truck with deliberate calm, not hurrying, nor looking back.

Her hands shook as she started the engine. She was being paranoid. They were just workers eating lunch. The fact that they'd looked at her meant nothing. People looked at each other in small cafés. Or maybe they were just crude men who’d shared a risqué joke. It might have been aimed at her, but she felt sorry for Cheryl, who had to work with them daily if that was the case.

But as she pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the cabin, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. That her casual questions and friendly conversation with Cheryl had marked her in some way. That the men in that booth now knew exactly who she was and where she might live.

The drive home took forever. Every truck that appeared in her rearview mirror made her tense. Every shadow along the roadside looked like a threat. By the time she turned onto the rough track leading to her cabin, the afternoon sun was lowering in the sky.

She unloaded her supplies quickly, carrying everything inside in numerous trips. The cabin felt colder than usual, or maybe that was just her imagination. She checked the woodpile next to the side door near the refrigerator. Satisfied that she could stay warm during the storm, she locked the doors, something she always did, and checked that the windows were secure.

With little sunlight left in the cloudy day, the snow began to fall, drifting to the ground. By morning, the road would be impassable. She'd be snowed in for several days. Alone with her cameras and her data and the uncomfortable knowledge that Northern Summit Resources was possibly operating outside their permitted area.

And that they knew she'd been asking questions.

Janice made herself go through her evening routine. Put away the groceries. Download the day's camera footage. Heat soup for dinner. Everyday activities that should have been comforting but felt hollow now, automatic movements while her mind churned.

She thought about Cheryl Whitten. Had her friendliness been genuine? And those men at the table, watching with cold eyes—what had they been thinking?

Janice stood at the window and watched the snow accumulate, beautiful and isolating in equal measure. In two months, her contract would be up. She'd return to Seattle, to civilization and safety and the comfortable life she'd left behind.

But right now, sixty days felt like a very long time.

7

Cole stood in the compound, watching the weather system build over east of where he was flying to. The satellite imagery on his tablet showed a massive storm front moving in from the Gulf of Alaska, promising heavy snow and zero visibility for at least forty-eight hours.

"You sure about this timing?" Logan appeared at his elbow, arms crossed as he studied the same weather pattern.

"I'll be ahead of it. Client's place is west of the storm track." Cole zoomed in on the map, tracing the route with his finger. "I'll be wheels down in Fairbanks two hours before it hits the interior."

"Charles Penson." Logan's tone held no particular inflection, but Cole had worked with him long enough to hear the reservation underneath. "Northern Summit Resources. New money, big operation."