1963
In the days following Valerie’s first boat cruise in Alaska, where she’d watched humpback whales frolic and witnessed the calving of the mighty Columbia Glacier, the weather turned. At first, soft misty rain turned cold. By the end of the week, a thin film of ice covered the windshield on Blaine’s truck in the mornings, and he had to scrape it off before heading out to run errands in town.
It was a busy time. Valerie helped Maud with housekeeping duties. She changed linens and cleaned bathtubs. In the evenings, she waited on tables in the dining room with Angie Brown, Frank’s daughter-in-law, who was great fun to work with.
Valerie had no regrets about revealing her secret to Maud and Blaine that first morning, as it established an instant trust between them. She felt as if she had known them all her life, like a favorite aunt and uncle. They were good people—compassionate, nonjudgmental, and forgiving of others’ mistakes, whether it was a small error in the boat-tour narration or a stolen set of hedge clippers. Blaine and Maud wanted only to see each person in their orbit succeed in some way.
Valerie felt fortunate. Emotional pressures were easing. Sometimes she found herself standing on the dock, staring at the tall mountain peaks with a sense of reverence, feeling grateful for her fate in this remote, unfamiliar place. She felt surprisingly at home, more at home than she’d ever felt in her father’s house.
She had no desire to go back there. The only things that tugged at her heart were thoughts of Drew and the terrible fight they’d had when he had broken up with her. She had been angry and told him she never wanted to see him again. But whenever his face materialized in her mind, a feeling of intense loss and desolation swept over her, and she had to force herself to turn away from it. It was confusing to be missing him, especially at night, and easier not to think of him at all.
In the mornings, it was simpler. There was enough activity to engage her mind and stir her creativity. The sky, the water, the wind, the whales, and theWanderer, as it sliced through waves on its way out of the fjord ... all of it was like a symphony. With or without Drew, Valerie was inspired. The music kept her going.
It had been two weeks since Frank Brown had dropped Valerie off at the lodge. She was outside, sitting on an Adirondack chair at the water’s edge, enjoying a short break before dinner hour, when a police cruiser pulled into the parking lot, its rubber tires crunching heavily over the white gravel. Valerie turned in her chair and watched the driver get out. He wore a black winter jacket and held a police cap in his hand. After placing it on his head, he looked up at the front of the lodge as if he were examining it for structural defects.
Valerie walked up the sloping lawn toward the front deck, which stretched the full length of the A-frame portion of the building. “Hi,” she said, and he turned.
“Hello.” They met in the parking lot, and he extended a hand to shake hers. “You must be Valerie.”
“I am.” The first thing she noticed, besides the fact that he had a firm handshake, was how handsome he was. He had a strong jaw and a straight nose. His eyes were hazel with flecks of yellow. He was at least six feet two.
He stepped back and removed his cap. “I’m Joe Brown. Angie’s husband. My father drove you from the airport.”
“Yes,” she replied. “He mentioned you might come by to check up on me.”
The corners of Joe’s mouth curled up in a small grin, and he chuckled. “That’s one way of putting it. You’ll have to excuse my father. He doesn’t exactly have a way with words. If Valdez had a welcoming committee, he wouldn’t be welcome on it.”
Valerie relaxed a little and smiled. “He was fine. It was good of him to drive all that way to meet me. I appreciated it.”
Neither of them seemed to know what to say next, so Valerie invited Joe to follow her onto the deck.
“Now that we’ve established that I’m not with the gestapo,” Joe said, “I’m actually looking for my wife. She left a note saying she’d be working tonight, but I don’t see the car.”
Valerie checked her watch. “Her shift starts at five. It’s only four thirty.”
“Is it?” He checked his watch as well. “You’re right.” He turned toward his cruiser in the parking lot. “She should be here any minute, then.”
“Yes. She’s always early.”
Joe scanned the front yard and glanced back at the parking lot.
“Would you like to come inside to wait?” Valerie asked, feeling suddenly awkward.
“No, I can’t stay.” He strode to the deck railing and leaned over it to look around the side of the building. Then he returned and placedhis hat back on his head. “I don’t suppose you’ve noticed any suspicious characters lurking around here?”
Valerie inclined her head with curiosity. “We have guests who are always lurking—if that’s what you mean.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Do you know Jeremy Mikhailov? He’s a local.”
“I know of him,” she replied. “He was riding alongside the tour boat last week in a small skiff. But I’ve never actually spoken to him, and I haven’t seen him since.”
Joe squinted at the mountains on the far side of the bay. “If he comes around, be sure to let me know. He can be a problem for some people, and he’s dangerous. I thought I saw him heading out this way earlier.”
Valerie shrugged. “Honestly, I haven’t seen him.”
Joe scanned the yard again. “Right, then. I should get going. When Angie arrives, tell her I’ll see her at home later.” He turned and walked down the steps.
Valerie strolled to the edge of the deck to watch Joe get into his car and drive off.
