Deborah’s heart clean stopped. Her mouth went dry. Blink. Breathe. Be normal. She gave a dismissive shrug.
“Have you ever gone by that name?” Jackie asked.
Breathe.
“No.”
But the woman continued to study her. Her attention dropped back to Deborah’s wrist with the tattoo.
Fuck. I should’ve had it removed. I knew I should have. How can this be? How could this woman know Katarina?
Deborah broke eye contact and looked out the window. But her eyes watered. Her pulse beat in her carotid. She could feel Jackie watching the back of her head. Everything had changed with that one word.
Katarina.
The plane banked again, affording a sudden view of a tiny town far below—a scattering of colored buildings along the shore of a lake that stretched into the distance like an ocean. Stella’s voice came through the headphones as she called in a GPS location to her dispatch. Deborah heard her say they were flying over the town of Kluhane Bay.
I am Deborah. I am Deborah Strong. I am strong. I’m a fiancée. A mother-to-be. I’ve never heard of Katarina. I run a successful business. I don’t know any Katarina—
“Do you mind if I film you?” Katie Colbourne asked as she peered around her seat.
Deborah’s pulse beat even faster, her face going hot. “No, sure. Go ahead,” she said as calmly as she could. They’d all signed forms agreeing to being photographed and filmed. They’d also agreed that any shots or footage could be used for spa promotional materials.
“Can I ask you some questions?” Katie asked, leaning farther around her seat and focusing her camera on Deborah’s face. A fall of flaxen hair tumbled across Katie’s cheek. She had a real TV-host look. Pretty.
Deborah fiddled with her engagement ring. “Sure.”
“You seemed lost in thought while looking out of the window a moment ago. What were you thinking?”
I am Deborah. I am Deborah Strong. I am strong . . .
“Beautiful.” She smiled. “I was thinking that it’s so stunningly beautiful down there, and exactly like the provincial car registration plates say: ‘Beautiful British Columbia.’”
“You’re Deborah Strong,” Katie said for her future viewers, or for her own record. “You own your own business?”
“Housekeeping. A boutique-style service, usually for smaller, luxury establishments.” She glanced at the others. She knew they could all hear in their headphones what she was saying. But they showed no apparent interest.
“You’re BC born and bred?”
“Excuse me?”
“Were you born in BC?”
Alarm bells started clanging. Fear rushed into her chest. No, no, it’s okay. Deborah Strong has nothing to hide, stay close to the truth . . . “Alberta, actually, near Edmonton. I moved out to BC when I was . . . a lot younger.”
A pause, Katie waiting for Deborah to say more. Deborah offered nothing extra. She felt the security woman watching, listening.
“Do you think you might be happy to relocate to a remote setting for periods?”
For a brief, outlandish moment, Deborah wondered if perhaps Katie Colbourne worked for the RAKAM Group, and her recordings and questions were all part of the greater job interview, and she’d show her footage to her bosses.
“If it works out,” Deborah said carefully. “For periods of time.”
“Do you have children?”
She cleared her throat. “Not yet.”
“But you do have a fiancé?” Katie smiled, lowered her camera, and turned it off. Her eyes were kind. “I saw the ring.”
The thought of Ewan—coupled with the fact that Katie’s apparent interrogation was over—eased her mind. “He’s in the military—air force. Stationed at CFB Comox,” she said. She was proud of Ewan. She liked to talk about him. “He’s away for extended tours, so this contract would work well for us. How about you?” Deborah asked, steering attention away from herself. “You got kids?”
Katie beamed. And this polished TV woman looked suddenly incredibly human and relatable. Her smile struck Deborah as startlingly honest. And it made her instantly like Katie.
“A daughter,” Katie said proudly. “She’s just turned six.”
“What’s her name?”
“Gabby.” Katie pulled up a photo on her phone. Reaching around the seat, she held it out for Deborah to see.
“Oh, she’s beautiful,” Deborah said, taking the phone for a closer study. “She looks just like you.”
“I think she looks like her dad.”
A memory flared hot into Deborah’s mind. Her own father. Chasing her through green summer grass spiked with wildflowers. You bad little girl! Get over here, Katarina, you little shit. Now. She shook the image.
“She’s going to miss you while you’re away these ten days,” Deborah said, handing the phone back.
“One day down, nine more to go.” Another grin. “And it’s more a case of me missing her.” Katie pushed the fall of hair back from her startlingly blue eyes. “I used to travel a lot for work, but I cut back after Gabby was born. It’s why I left the cable news station to go into travel documentaries. Best change I’ve ever made. Far more flexibility being my own boss, and I can spend more time with my daughter.”
She’d already told them all over breakfast.
“So Gabby’s with your husband now?”
“Her dad. We divorced a year after she was born.”
“Oh.” A feeling of cold washed through Deborah’s gut, and her image of the happy Katie Colbourne tilted slightly. It was disheartening to think of all the excitement and work and emotion that went into falling in love, and into committing to a life together, and into the decisions around having a child, becoming a parental unit, only for it all to be smashed apart later. Her hand went instinctively to her belly, where her own little secret grew.
Stella Daguerre’s voice came through the headset. “We’re nearing the lodge. If you look carefully, you can glimpse it between the trees at the end of the lake below.”
Excitement shimmered. Everyone leaned forward to look out their windows as Stella banked her plane into a slow curve, affording them all a view. Below, the long, narrow body of water sparkled. It was nestled into a valley between two mountain ranges that rose sharply up on either side. Densely forested slopes scored by the gray scars of avalanche chutes plunged down to the water. The lake looked deep, and very dark—a blue that seemed almost black as it reflected gold dollars of sunlight.
No roads were visible anywhere, not even a trail around the lake. Again, Deborah was struck by the utter absence of human presence. The plane lowered, flying toward the head of the lake.
“The lodge lies at the far northern end.” Stella pointed.
Steven Bodine’s deep voice came through the headsets. “Can you reveal the name of the lake now?”
“Taheese Lake,” Stella said. “Just over thirty-two kilometers long, or twenty miles. But while long, it’s narrow, only two kilometers wide at the widest part. At the southwest end it flows into what becomes the Taheese River, which feeds all the way down to Lake Kluhane.”
“So that small town back there was Kluhane Bay?” Nathan asked.