Chapter Ten #2
Since then, everything has been quiet. We set our territorial boundaries and both sides respect them.
We are two self-sufficient communities who have had one negative interaction, and the problem was resolved.
So what do we do with that? Investigate them for the sake of curiosity?
We sure as hell wouldn’t want them doing that to us.
“If something’s going on,” Dalton says, “it’s not interfering with us.
I know it’s a problem for you, and we’d like them gone, too.
We’ve discussed everything we might do to convince them to move on but…
” He shrugs. “If they didn’t leave for the winter, they aren’t leaving for any inconvenience we might devise. ”
“That wasn’t a plea for help,” Lilith says. “It’s a mining operation that is actually mining—I’ve seen them working. It’s also heavily guarded. Best to leave them alone. I just can’t trust them to leave me alone.”
“You’re always welcome in our town.”
She smiles. “I know. I think I’m reaching the end of my Yukon days, though. Time to pull up stakes and relocate. It’ll need to be someplace where I can pass off Nero as a husky. I’ve been thinking northern BC.”
“We’ll help in any way we can. And we’ll be sad to see you go.”
“It’s time. Between those miners and this hiker business, it’s probably past time. So you don’t know what happened to the wife?”
“We haven’t searched yet. That sounds awful but—”
“Not your problem. Neither is the dead guy. I know you’ll look for her, and I’ll keep an ear out. If she might have killed her husband, though, I’ll probably lie low. I’m not too worried about her sneaking up while Nero’s here.” She sips her beer. “But you’re thinking she might not be a hiker.”
“We have no idea. There are several reasons why someone might be checking out our town. It could also be about the gold mine—they’d definitely attract spies.” I glance at Dalton.
Dalton sits up. “Awkward question time, but we gotta ask. Any chance these people could have been looking for you?”
“Nah. It’s been five years. By now, the mob will completely have forgotten that I murdered three of their guys in a shoot-out. However … now that I think of it, the Hell’s Angels were pretty pissed off about the million bucks I stole, so maybe them? Oh, wait. I forgot the cartel.”
“We don’t mean you’re here because you did something,” I say. “While I’m sure there are people up here who fall into that category, at least as many are running from something that was done to them. That could also compel someone to track you down.”
“Anyone I left behind wishes me the best, and we keep in touch.” She sighs and stretches her legs again. “Do you want the story? Why I’m here?”
“We don’t want to pry.”
“Not much prying about it. I don’t want you thinking these hikers might have been here for me.
So, who was I before I became Lilith, queen of the wolves?
A burned-out financial-district drone, getting ready to quit her job and move to the islands.
Instead, I met a photographer who grew up in the Yukon and dreamed of going back.
I fell for him and his dream. He built this place.
I decorated it. I happily traded my high heels for hiking boots and learned how to live off grid. And then … he was gone.”
“Damn. I’m sorry.”
She looks at me and then bursts out laughing.
“Sorry. I see how that sounded. I follow my guy to the wilderness, where he dies in a horrible tragedy, but I stay, and even take up photography, living his dream. Nah, that’s the Hollywood version.
In real life, the city girl starts taking pictures and starts selling pictures, and then she’s the one making money and he decides the Yukon isn’t really his dream after all.
Last I heard, he was living in the Outback with some girl he met in the States.
” She winks. “As long as she doesn’t take up photography, they’ll be fine. ”
“His loss.”
“Eh, it was over before it was over, if you know what I mean. I was just trying to figure out how to build my own place in the wilderness. Then he left, and I didn’t need to.
Got to keep the cabin and the wolf pup. Nero and I will move on, and we’ll be fine.
I’ll buy an actual cabin this time, probably off grid, but running water would be nice.
And a microwave. Yep, I’ll splurge on appliances.
God knows, after living like this, I can afford it. ”
I smile. “Photography pays the bills very well?”
She laughs again. “Oh, hell, no. Sure, it pays. I’m actually pulling in a very decent wage for a photographer, but that’ll never be a fortune. My money comes from my corporate drone days. I made some sweet investments, and they have worked so I don’t need to.”
“Nice.”
“Very nice. I’ll be fine. I won’t take off just yet, but yeah, I’ll be heading out before we’re snowed in. And in the meantime, Nero and I will hunker down and wait for news that you’ve found this woman.”
After that, we head back to Haven’s Rock. It’s getting dark, and there’s nothing else we can do. I’m trying not to think of a scenario where Gretchen is an innocent hiker who saw her husband murdered and is now hiding in the forest, terrified and alone.
The much more likely scenario is that she killed him.
The buried backpack supports that theory.
Whoever buried it made sure to keep the food.
That suggests Gretchen sorted everything out and kept what she needed to get back home.
Hopefully, she’s already heading there. The only question is whether she was a hiker who killed her husband or something more sinister.
For our sake, it’d be best if she killed her husband and is already heading home, no threat to us.
But then I flash back to that brand-new wedding band, and my gut says this isn’t over.