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Lila was flying across the snow, about a foot off the ground, her arms spread wide, the sun in her eyes, the whole world open before her. Someone kept pace with her, loping through the snow field. A bear, big and brown and beautifully wild. The snow was his element, just like the air was hers.

And then something pierced her heart and she fell toward the snow. But instead of crashing through the white dunes below, she landed on the bear’s back. She clung to his thick warm fur as they raced toward the horizon.

“Lila. Lila, wake up.” The words penetrated her consciousness and the snow fields dissolved into rough-planked walls. She was sitting in a warm lap and someone’s strong arms were around her.

“Bear?” She twisted her neck to blink up at him.

“Thank God, you’re awake. How’s your head?”

“How’s yours?” She reached out to touch the trickle of dried blood on his neck.

“I’m fine,” he said. He moved his finger back and forth in front of her eyes. “You don’t seem to be concussed. That’s good. You were out for a while.”

She could see how scared he’d been, maybe still was. That was because he loved her. It was written all over his face. He loved her and he’d always catch her when she fell. “I’m okay. What happened?”

“We got knocked out and dragged in here. Two guys, both in ski masks. No one’s been in here since then.”

Lila sat up so she could look around. The cabin was a simple structure, four walls, no windows, one door. “What is this place?”

“I don’t know, but it feels like a holding cell of some sort. Not one of the fancy cabins, that’s for sure. I’d say storage, but look at that.” He pointed to the corner, where a pallet with a hole cut through it sat on the cold dirt floor. “Is that a…”

“Shithole? Yes.” Bear sniffed at the air. “Hasn’t been used in a long time, though.”

“I never knew a shithole was an actual thing.”

“I guess you learn something new every time you get captured and locked up somewhere.”

She noticed that Bear didn’t seem too worried about the fact that they were prisoners. “Do you have an escape plan?”

“I do. I was just waiting for you to wake up.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “That door will be easy to break open. We wait until dark, then go down to the river.”

“Why the river?”

“That’s how they came, on their snowmobiles. It must be frozen enough. We can either grab one of their rigs if they’re still here, or walk downriver. If we find our skis, all the better. They took them.”

“Who are they? Did they say what they’re doing?”

“No, but I’ve been watching out that crack in the wall.” He pointed out the slender slit of light in the wall. “They have gas cans. I think they’re going to burn down this entire compound.”

Lila shuddered at the horror of what might happen if they didn’t get out in time. But something else had grabbed her attention. There were scratches on the wall, many of them, just a few feet from that crack.

“Did you see that, Bear?”

He squinted where she was pointing. “It looks like writing.” He set her on the floor and, still in their ski boots, they crawled across the floor to look more closely. “It’s names,” he said softly. “Mary, Bernadette, Heather, DeNaina…there’s like forty names here. Including Gwen.”

“All women.” Lila traced the names with her index finger. A slow, sad chill traveled through her. “These women were in despair when they scratched their names here.”

Bear went still as he focused on one particular name. “Tory.”

Lila put a hand on his arm and felt the muscles there go tight as iron. “Do you know that name?”

“Tory Johnson was the name of the girl whose disappearance I was investigating. It’s not that rare of a name, but not common either.”

“That was when, over seven years ago?”

His answer was a grunt as he scrutinized the scratchings. “Hers is one of the more recent names. Some of these are much older. You can tell by how weathered they are. I guess Grant was right, and this place is part of a trafficking operation. No one polices what goes on out here. From Firelight Ridge we can’t even see planes flying in here because there’s a ridge in the way.”

Another thought struck her as she stared at the names. “Bear, is this the evidence they want to destroy?”

“It could be part of it, but on its own it doesn’t mean much. It’s just a series of names. There must be more, probably in the other cabins or the main structure. There’s no place for anything to be hidden here.”

They looked around the tiny cabin, which was barely sixteen by sixteen feet. There was no obvious hiding place for anything. Their captors hadn’t even left them a water bottle, although they’d been kind enough to leave Lila’s backpack.

The sound of voices outside drew closer. Bear helped Lila as they both scrambled to their feet. The door opened and two men stepped through. One wore the same type of Gore-Tex snowmobile suit they’d seen at the Community. The other wore a thick Carhartt jacket and expensive boots. He was older, in his sixties, with a face ravaged by time and addiction.

Billy Hardwell. She was sure of it.

He gave them the genial smile of a politico. “You’re awake. Good.”

“Why are we here?” Bear demanded.

“That’s my question. Y’all are a long way from Firelight Ridge. This is private property.”

Lila let Bear do the talking while she focused on picking up on the man’s energy. He was nervous. Impulsive. A strange mix of good and bad intentions. “We were just out for a ski,” said Bear. “Didn’t mean to trespass.”

“See, I have a hard time believing that when I found this in her pocket.” Billy jerked his head toward Lila as he dangled the red silk bookmark before them. “I recognize this. It came from Nancy’s diary.”

Lila couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “So you’re Billy Hardwell!”

“I go by Bill now. New man, new name.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” Bear growled. “You can’t run from the past. If you could, you wouldn’t be here, would you? You came to erase the past.”

“No no no.” Hardwell shook his head back and forth, then ended on a nod. “Well okay. Maybe I did. But it’s for the future. My son’s a good man and he deserves a chance.”

That was what she’d picked up on…the mixed intentions. Burning the past to preserve his son’s future.

“So that’s what’s happening here. The coverup wasn’t enough, so now you’re going to destroy this place and any speck of evidence left in it.” Every line of Bear’s body vibrated with tension. “What about the women who could still be found? You could do some good right here, right now by turning yourself and all the evidence over to the police. That’s how you make up for it.”

Hardwell looked over at the other man, who gave a tiny shake of his head. Maybe Hardwell wasn’t pulling all the strings, Lila thought. There were probably other powerful people who didn’t want anything coming to light about this place.

“Listen, I don’t want you guys to get hurt,” Hardwell said easily. “Just hand over Nancy’s journal and I’ll give you a head start before we light the match.”

“All we have is that bookmark,” Lila said, before thinking. Darn it, she should have stuck with her previous policy. She wasn’t cut out for delicate life-or-death negotiations. “I mean…with us. That’s all we have with us.”

Hardwell narrowed his eyes at her. “Where’s the rest?”

“That’s…” She glanced at Bear, silently begging him to pick up the baton.

“If you kill us, you’ll never know,” he said. “Seems like you wasted a lot of time searching this retreat. Came up empty, huh?”

He threw up his hands, looking so boyish that Lila could sort of understand how Nancy Butcher could have found him attractive. “It’s supposed to be here. Jenner grabbed that chick and brought her out here. Leverage to get that other guy to confess. Then she got away. I made him go after her because I remembered about Nancy’s journal. He never found her, never found the journal. Incompetence.”

“So Donald Jenner killed all those people, not Paul Anthony Bowman,” said Bear. “The wrong man went to jail. Died there.”

“None of that was my doing. My dad sent me to a fucking asylum. That wasn’t me.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “You can’t put that on me,” he repeated.

He had a conscience, she could tell. But he was also an emotional and psychological mess.

“You knew Nancy Butcher, didn’t you? You were fond of her, and that’s how you knew about her diary. Do you think she would like what you’re doing? Did Rita Casey come here? Did you kill her because of what she saw?”

“It doesn’t matter. None of that matters.” His voice rose. “She’s gone, they’re all gone. The only thing that matters is my son. He’s good, not a fuckup like me. He’ll fix everything. I gotta do this for my son. It’s all for him.”

The other man cleared his throat, and Hardwell snapped to attention. “Last chance,” the other man said to them, before putting his hand on the doorknob.

“Wait,” said Bear. ‘There’s a blizzard coming. Trust me, I know the weather patterns here. You’d better wait on that fire.”

The other man muttered something to Hardwell, and then practically shoved him out of the cabin.

Lila collapsed against the wall, feeling like a rag doll with the stuffing torn out. “Is there really a blizzard coming?”

“Yes. I saw the clouds coming in through the gap, and I can smell it. You know how everyone says I’m the best at predicting first snowfall? Yeah. It’s my thing. Hopefully they’ll pay attention and we’ll have the night to get out of here.”

Lila worried at her lower lip. It was chapped from skiing in the cold air, and her fingers were numb, even with her insulated gloves. It was cold in this cabin. She thought about those forty or so women—possibly more, if not everyone had been able to leave their name. “I can’t believe they couldn’t find Nancy’s diary. Gwen must have hidden it really well.”

“It might not be here. She could have found a hiding place for it after she escaped.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Poor Paul Bowman. He loved Gwen and he was trying to keep her from getting murdered. He wasn’t a bitter man, he was an honorable one. At least we know the truth now, and we can tell the world if we get out of here.”

Bear shot her a worried glance. “Are you okay?”

Lila realized she was shifting from foot to foot. “I have to pee. In that incredibly gross shit-hole.” She dragged herself toward the pallet in the corner, already dreading the process. “They didn’t leave any toilet paper for us.”

“Stop,” said Bear, voice tense. “Hang on a minute.”

She froze. Had she been making too much noise?

“The shithole. When they searched for that journal, I bet they didn’t look there.” Bear strode across the room toward the palette and peered down the hole. “Can’t see anything. Give me a hand here.” He set the palette aside and dug his headlamp out of the backpack. “Hold the light while I take a look inside.”

“You know, this is the most Alaska thing ever, potential evidence hidden inside an outhouse, although an outhouse would actually be better.”

He lay on his stomach, his face at the edge of the hole, while Lila played her light across it, as he directed. “How frozen is it down there?”

“It’s frozen. No getting down deep without a shovel or an excavator.”

“Well, it was worth a shot.” The sour taste of disappointment gathered in her stomach. “No journal, no accountability. They’re going to get away with it.”

“Even if the cabin burns down, this will still be here because it’s underground. We can come back afterwards.” He started to draw his head back from the edge.

“No, keep looking. Just one more minute, Bear. We owe it to these women.”

“Intuition?”

She nodded, though she wasn’t sure if it was exactly that. Energy lingered here, desperate but hopeful.

Without another word, he went back to work. She held the light for him and let him explore. The smell didn’t bother her. By this point, it was earthy rather than stinky. All the fecal matter had probably composted by now.

“Over here,” Bear said as he reached into the hole. He bent his arm so he was touching the dirt wall closest to him. It was slightly undercut there, impossible to see from aboveground. “I feel something. It’s plastic.”

“Maybe it’s a package of toilet paper.”

“It probably was, once. It feels like that. It’s stuck to the dirt wall.” He felt around some more. “Here we go. There’s something holding it in place. Feels like a hair pin.”

Lila felt a surge of pride in the long-ago woman had concocted such a clever hiding place. “Be careful when you pull it out, so it doesn’t drop into the poop.”

He grunted. “Come here, you can help with that. I can’t get both arms in at the same time. Mine are too big.”

“I guess being such a stud is a disadvantage sometimes?” she teased him as she moved next to him.

“Don’t make me laugh. I might mess up this whole operation.”

She gingerly extended her arm under the lip of the hole until she felt the plastic. “Got it.”

“Good. Keep pressure on it. Hold it to the wall while I take out the pin.”

She felt the plastic shift under her fingers and pressed harder until Bear came up with the pin. It was a beautifully carved wooden pin with a long stainless steel spike stained with dirt. Lila recognized the style instantly. Whimsical, ornate, a butterfly perched on a toadstool.

“Paulina made this. It must have been Gwen’s.”

“There’s another one. She wasn’t taking chances. Keep the pressure on,” Bear told her.

A moment later, he withdrew another hair pin and then a plastic package out of the dark hole. It was indeed the plastic wrapping that had once held toilet paper, tightly wound, several times, around a small notebook, about four inches by three, marked “Recipes.”

“Nancy’s?” Lila asked in a whisper.

“Let’s find out.” Bear carefully withdrew the notebook and opened it up. “Salmon chowder for fifty,” he read. He flipped a page. “Roast chicken with dumplings.”

“Keep going. Maybe she wrote more stuff at the end.”

He flipped to the back of the book, which was blank, then back to the closest page with writing. “I saw another girl arrive today on the plane with the men. She was probably about fifteen. Native. She looked terrified, but when I went looking for her, I couldn’t find her. They might keep the girls in the storage shed. I’m afraid to ask anyone about it. The only one I trust here is Billy, and I’m not sure I can even trust him. I’m stuck out here for another week and all I can do in that time is keep notes.”

“That’s it,” Lila breathed. “Does she say any more?”

“Oh yes, there’s more. There’s a list of names. Listen.” He read more from the journal. “Most people here use only their first names, but I recognized a few of their faces, so I’m including those last names. This is my witness that I’ve seen each and every one of them here with a minor girl. I finally asked Billy about the girls who come and go, and he said he stays out of all that. He says he has to avoid scandal because of his father. But then he also said that his father insisted he come here, to this particular retreat. I don’t know why, or what that means, but I think it’s because Billy’s trying to change his life and get clean. I fear for Billy. He’s a sweet man. He came to my room last night and we just held each other. There’s a real dark spirit to this place. I wish I’d never taken this job. Someone needs to know what’s going on here.”

Footfalls thumped as someone knocked the snow off their boots outside the door. Bear thrust the plastic bag inside his jacket, while Lila dragged the palette back over the hole. The door opened just as she got it into place, so she plopped down on it, as if the intruder had interrupted her in mid-poop.

“Who are you?” Bear demanded of the man in full snowmobile gear, including a thermal mask and goggles. Behind him, snow swirled in wild wind-driven patterns. Bear was right; a blizzard was coming.

“Cleanup crew. That’s all you need to know.” He tossed something just inside the door, then turned to go.

“Wait,” said Bear. “If something happens to both of us, police will be out here like flies on shit.”

“A disgraced cop and a kooky bartender? Doubt it.” The man snorted. “But hey, I got nothing against you. That’s why I’m giving you those blankets. You called it on that blizzard. We’re stuck here until tomorrow. There’s worse places to be stuck, I gotta say.” He gestured around the little shed. “Not this. This sucks. But the rest of the compound is deluxe.”

He pushed open the door, as the wind howled outside, and latched it from the outside.

Lila shivered from the gust of cold air still swirling through the shed. “What now, Bear? We can’t leave in a blizzard.”

“We have to. They’re going to torch this place.”

“But he said we have tonight.”

“It’s a lie.” He sniffed the air. “Smell that?”

She nodded, though she hadn’t noticed it until he pointed it out. There were so many other things to worry about.

“Those blankets are soaked with kerosene. As soon as it’s dark, we go. No matter what the conditions are.”

“But Molly knows we’re out here. There’s probably a rescue crew heading out already.”

“Not in a blizzard. They wouldn’t get very far if they tried.”

“And we will?”

“We have no choice.”

Just like Gwen , she thought sadly. But Gwen hadn’t had a Bear on her side.