Chapter 1
Leo opened her door two inches and squinted, blinded by daylight. She dropped her eyes, surprised to see a tiny, wizened old woman standing on her porch.
“We’ve got a problem,” said the woman.
“You the one who’s been bashing at my door?” Leo asked.
“Sure am.”
“Then wedohave a problem.”
“Let me in there. I need to talk to you.” The woman put a gnarled hand to the solid pine and pushed. “It’s urgent.”
Leo didn’t give an inch, though she did let the hand holding her weapon at her side drop. Of all the days for the village elder to bust in on her privacy, it had to be today, when she was alone, without her teammates as backup, and exhausted from a night of vomiting. She cast a quick, helpless look outside. “Um, I don’t think that’s a—”
“I’ll give you his location.” The woman’s voice was a low, raw whisper that sliced through Leo’s nausea.
This time when she took in their surroundings, her gaze was razor-sharp, her weakness forgotten. She tightened her hand on the Glock. “Whose location?”
“The man’s. The one you’re out there looking for every day, you and your friends.” The woman’s eyes flicked to Leo’s face before she shoved at the door again. “Let me in.”
This conversation wasn’t one they should have out in the open, even if Leo hadn’t detected anyone lingering in the forest. She stepped back, opening her door wide and visually searching the woman for weapons as she entered. Everyone and her grandma was packing around here—she spotted the telltale bulge at the old woman’s back—literally.
The stranger waddled into the small space, taking in the pine-clad interior as if she’d never seen the inside of the Schink’s Station Lodge’s cabins before. Uninvited, she walked over to the picture window and drew open the curtains, allowing too much light into the darkened room.
For a quiet moment, she stared at the view—sparkling lake ringed by evergreens, the crystal-tipped mountains beyond it as serene and surreal as a painted backdrop. The first time Leo had seen this place, she’d hummed “The Hills Are Alive” for so long, her teammates had threatened to jump out of the bush plane to shut her up.
“Cozy.” The woman settled into the cabin’s single armchair with a sigh. “Daisy did a good job in here.”
“Oh, come on. Are we really gonna talk about interior desi—”
“You look like hell.”
“Well, I wassleepingwhen you woke me up.”
The nosy old lady looked at the empty trash can by the bed. “You pregnant or something?”
Leo shot her a glare. “Something.” Probably food poisoning, maybe a stomach bug. Either way, it was none of her business.
“You sound stuffy; some yarrow steam’ll unclog you right as—”
“I’m good, thanks.” The woman had dropped her bomb and now she wanted to talk local remedies? “Let’s get back to what you were saying.” Leo couldn’t help adding a “ma’am,” to that. There were some habits she’d never lose.
“We know what you’re doing here. You and your guys. We know who you’re looking for.”
Leo’s pulse kicked into high gear. “I don’t…” Forget it. After her night spent hugging the toilet, she was too weak to keep her reactions under wraps. And this was too important to play dumb. She had taken her teammates out on daily grid searches of the rough terrain surrounding Schink’s Station, Alaska, for the past week and a half, and they hadn’t located a damned thing. If this woman could tell her where to find Campbell Turner—and the virus he’d stolen from Chronos Corp—then she’d take it.
Instead of prevaricating, which was obviously irritating the woman anyway, Leo sank onto her unmade bed, set her shaking elbows on her shaking knees, set her heavy head in her hands, and gave the woman every ounce of her attention. “Tell me where to find him.”
“Promise something first.”
“Listen, lady, Ijustgot to sleep after puking up my guts all night. I don’t even know your name and you’re already making demands.”
“Amka. Everybody calls me Old Amka.” The woman’s prune face folded into what could have been a smile. Or a pained grimace. “For obvious reasons.”
“Okay, Amka. Where can I find him? Where’s Campbell Turner?”
“Turner.” Amka blinked. “Right.” The woman’s lined lips worked for a few seconds, her skin folding and unfolding like an origami swan.
