Chapter 6 #3
She paid and loaded her bags back into the cart, mind racing.
So the locals had noticed problems too. That could be helpful information, or it could just be confirmation bias.
People always find something to blame when the water naturally changed with the seasons.
But her scientific training said otherwise. "Thanks. Stay warm during the storm."
"You too. Be careful out there."
She loaded the groceries into her truck and drove the short distance to the Bear Paw Tavern, the town's only restaurant. The burger and fries she'd been dreaming about all week waited inside, along with human company and the comforting noise of other people's conversations.
The tavern was busy for a Wednesday afternoon. The storm had brought people into town for last-minute supplies and the chance to socialize before being snowed in. Janice snagged a stool at the bar and ordered from Donna, the owner's daughter who'd been waiting tables here since high school.
"The usual?" Donna asked with a smile.
"Please. And whatever pie you've got."
"Apple today. Fresh this morning."
The burger arrived ten minutes later, gloriously greasy and topped with all the fixings she'd requested.
Janice ate slowly, savoring every bite. Real food, cooked by someone else, eaten while sitting in a warm room with other people.
Simple pleasures she'd taken for granted before moving to the cabin.
Donna refilled her water glass. "How's the research going?"
"Good. Interesting." Janice wiped ketchup from her fingers. "Lots of wildlife activity this time of year."
"Must get lonely out there."
"Sometimes. But I like the quiet."
The tavern door opened, bringing a gust of cold air and several people in work clothes with Northern Summit Resources patches on their jackets. Janice glanced up automatically, then froze. Three men and one woman, talking and laughing as they claimed a booth near the window.
Donna followed her gaze. "The mine workers come in pretty regular. Good tippers, I'll give them that."
Janice forced herself to look away and focus on her burger.
But she was hyperaware of the group, catching fragments of their conversation, but nothing of consequence.
One of the men had a deep voice that carried across the small space, complaining about the weather forecast and how it would slow them down.
“Hey, Vet-lady,” a growly voice came from behind.
She turned and grinned at the older, bear-of-a-man who entered and sat near her. “Hi, Walter. How are you?”
“Can’t complain. Fishin’s good, so that keeps me and Ruthanne fed.”
Walter and Ruthanne were home-grown Cantwell citizens, and she’d met the couple the first time she’d come to town.
Ruthanne drove a school bus and helped at the closest elementary school.
Walter was a fisherman by trade and offered fishing tours to tourists who wanted to try river fishing while in the area.
He looked up at Donna and placed a to-go order.
“Ruthanne is recuperating from a cold, and I told her I’d bring her lunch. ”
“You’re such a sweetie,” Janice said, smiling at him. He looked like a gray-haired, bushy-bearded bear, but was a softie on the inside.
“Don’t know about that, but I got me a good wife, and I’ll take care of her.” After Donna left to place his order, he turned back to Janice. “How’s the wildlife you keep an eye on?”
“Interesting. I’ve seen most of the animals I expected and a few that I didn’t.” Suddenly, she thought, “Hey, have you seen any changes in the fishing lately?”
His heavy eyebrows lowered into a V. “Can’t say I have. Why?”
“Oh, just something Agnes said about the fish tasting funny and her grandson didn’t like it anymore.”
“Don’t know about that. I live way south of town, not anywhere near her. So my fish are still tasty.” He laughed while bragging.
She grinned, although she regretted asking the question, considering Walter’s voice was usually at a booming level, and she didn’t want everyone to hear. Deciding to change the subject, she said, “Hope the storm won’t keep me snowed in.”
He nodded and then moved to the topic of the upcoming storm. “It shouldn’t be too bad. Couple of days of snow.” He looked back over and added, “But as remote as you are, you need to get all your supplies today.”
She nodded and finished her last French fry. After paying, she said goodbye to Walter, asked Donna to wrap her pie to take with her, and then headed to the ladies’ room.
The bathroom was small, just two stalls and a sink with a mirror that had seen better days. As she washed her hands, the woman wearing a jacket with the mining company logo entered. Their eyes met in the mirror’s reflection.
"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.