Chapter
One
CHARLOTTE
The road to Bear Cove, Alaska narrowed as I headed north.
Anchorage had long since faded behind me, civilization shrinking in my rearview mirror. Mountains soared in all directions, and the rental car’s heater blasted hot air, keeping the crisp mid-November weather at bay.
So far, the snow the gas station attendant had warned me about was holding off.
“Lots of equipment back here,” he’d said as he filled my tank. The sign above his station had boasted “Last Fuel for 70 Miles.” Maybe it was simply good marketing, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
“Yes,” I said, pulling my work credit card from my wallet. “It’s for research.”
The attendant squinted through the rental’s back window, surveying the collection of sensors and computer monitors. “Research, huh? Not much to study around Bear Cove.”
Excitement leapt in my chest. “That’s exactly why I’m here. I’m a conservation biologist. The area around Bear Cove is an ecological anomaly.”
The attendant raised bushy white eyebrows. His matching beard descended toward a red flannel, giving him more than a passing resemblance to Santa Claus. “An eco-what?”
Scientific jargon hovered on my tongue. I pushed it away, searching for a layman’s explanation. “On satellite, Bear Cove appears to be missing its wildlife. I’m here to find out why.”
The fuel pump clicked, and the attendant clicked his tongue at the same time. He turned his blue gaze to the sky, a look of irritation crossing his weathered features. “Aliens sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”
It took me a second to realize he was serious. “Aliens…”
He gave an affirmative-sounding grunt as he replaced the nozzle. “Been studying us for years. Decades, probably.” The attendant nodded toward my equipment. “You’re unlikely to get much use out of that in Bear Cove. Nothing there but a bunch of mountain fellas who keep to themselves.”
“I’ve heard that, yes.” I pushed my glasses up my nose before handing him the credit card. “I booked two weeks at the bed and breakfast.”
The attendant pulled a surprisingly sleek-looking card reader from his pocket and swiped the card. He waited for the beep, then handed the card back to me. “Well, good luck to you. And be careful. Alaska isn’t like other places. Things aren’t always what they seem.”
The road curved sharply, and the memory fled as I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. But another memory intruded, an image of Dr. Henry forming in my mind.“You’re going to change the world, Charlotte. I’m certain of it.”
The road curved again, and Dr. Henry’s face faded. But his words lingered. He’d repeated them often over the past nine years. The first time he said them, I was fourteen and drowning in a sweater two sizes too big at an academic conference for gifted students. I hadn’t felt particularly gifted. On the contrary,I’d felt completely out of place surrounded by brilliant teenagers from all over the country. The other students didn’t share a cramped room with three foster siblings. Their clothes weren’t from a thrift store clearance bin, and I had no way of knowing, but I was pretty sure none of them had ever used a plastic grocery bag as a backpack.
But test scores didn’t lie, and mine landed me a dream come true in the form of a full scholarship to Colorado State University. Dr. Henry had been happy to serve as my advisor—and something of a surrogate parent as I navigated college and grad school.
The rental hit a pothole, jarring me back to the present. I eased off the accelerator as buildings appeared between the thick trees lining the road. Cabins were tucked among the evergreens, which stretched at least a hundred feet toward a blue sky. Seconds later, more buildings came into view.
But not too many. A handful of quaint shops clustered on either side of a tiny main street, their clapboards painted bright colors reminiscent of a Swiss village. Smoke drifted from chimneys. At the end of the street, a three-story structure with a wraparound porch sported a small wooden sign.
Bear Cove Bed and Breakfast
The excitement I’d felt at the gas station returned, and my heart pumped faster as I pulled into the small parking lot. According to the Census data I’d read before I left Colorado, Bear Cove was home to just sixty residents. It was the sort of place where everyone knew everyone’s business and people were generally friendly. But every phone call I made went to voicemail. Every email I sent went unanswered.
Until I booked a stay at the bed and breakfast.
The building’s windows winked in the late afternoon sun. Gingerbread trim flanked the porch, which boasted a swing with tartan-covered cushions. Flower boxes nestled under the windows, evergreens and pinecones spilling over the sides. The place was like a Christmas card brought to life. All it needed was a layer of snow.
Grabbing my backpack from the passenger seat, I left the car and headed toward the porch. Gravel crunched under my boots, and a light breeze nipped at my cheeks. Sunlight warmed my shoulders even as my breath puffed in the air.
Carvings of leaves wrapped around the thick pillars flanking the porch steps. The wood was solid under my feet as I climbed the staircase and crossed the porch. A small bell tinkled as I pulled open the door and stepped into a foyer.
Immediately, heat enveloped me, along with the scent of cinnamon and apples. A sitting room to my right held a leather sofa, dark bookshelves loaded with books, and a large stone hearth crackling with a cheery fire.
“Hello?” I called out, tugging my backpack higher on my shoulder.
