All she had to do now was get a divorce. She slipped on her RayBans as she stepped out of the office building and into the bright Chicago sunshine, heading towards a Starbucks across the street. Hannah wasn’t on call, so this was only the second cup of the day. If she was going to start trying to locate Brad Crawford, she reasoned, she’d need all the help she could get.
As the barista smiled at her mechanically from behind the counter, Hannah contemplated her options. She knew that neither of her parents had heard from Brad in years, and she wasn’t really in touch with anyone from High School. That was one of the drawbacks of medical school; you could forget about maintaining old friendships during the four years of intensive study, as lab partners and classmates became the only faces you ever saw. The four years of residency that followed had been no easier, but at least Hannah had shared an apartment with two other young doctors who understood the need to get shit-faced drunk the first day you lost a patient, that black-out conditions were mandatory during the day if you were on night shifts, and that the fridge needed to be stocked with Diet Coke twenty-four seven.
Hannah figured her best bet for tracking Brad would be to start with his sister. A few months ago, Hannah was sure she’d seen a new baby announcement on Facebook with Brad’s sister tagged in the group. Lila, that was her name. Lila Crawford. As far as Hannah could recall, she still lived back in Montana, so maybe Brand was near that area too. It would be nice to visit. Maybe she could pop by and see her parents.
With renewed vigor and a tall steaming black Columbian coffee, Hannah set off back home to her apartment.
“Lila?” Hannah asked when she heard a confused ‘hello’ at the other end of the line.
“Speaking. Who’s this?” Lila’s voice sounded sleep heavy.
“It’s Hannah Cooper. We went to High School together.” Hannah prompted.
“Oh, yeah. Brad’s wife.”
“Yeah,” Hannah paused. She hadn’t exactly expected a warm reception, but Lila’s tone was particularly cold. “I was actually looking for Brad. Do you know where he lives now?”
“Not really. I haven’t heard from him in over a year. No surprise there.”
Hannah made a sympathetic noise, “Any idea where I might find out?”
“Why are you looking for him anyways? You two haven’t seen each other in years.”
“I just wanted to catch up with him, see how he’s doing…” Hannah trailed off. “I also need him to sign some divorce papers. We never really got around to it, before, you know?”
“You getting hitched again?” Lila asked.
“No, no, just getting my paperwork in order.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. Eventually Lila sighed.
“Well, last I heard, he was in Alaska.”
“Alaska?”
“Yeah. He was doing odd jobs here and there. No idea where he’s at now though.”
“Okay, thanks Lila. Do you know what area?”
“Port Ursa.”
Hannah had never heard of it. So much for her trip to Montana.
“Great. Thanks, Lila, you’ve been really helpful.”
“Anytime.”
The phone went dead before Hannah had a chance to say goodbye. Hannah stared bemusedly at it. Lila had always been a bit of an oddball, and as far back as Hannah could remember, she’d never gotten along with her own brother.
The Crawford siblings hadn’t exactly had the Leave it to Beaver upbringing, though. Brad may have been the all-star favorite on the school basketball team, but he had also been a wild card–constantly in trouble, forever in detention, and he often missed long periods of the school semester. It was that wildness that had attracted her to Brad in the first place. Hannah smiled to herself, remembering her days as a straight-laced high school student. She had been forever studying, positively obsessed with getting straight ‘A’s. Brad had caught her attention during senior year, and they had started dating casually.
When High School came to an end, they and a group of their friends decided to celebrate their freedom with a cross-country road trip. Predicated by a night of free drinking at a casino, and Hannah’s first actual falling-down drunk, Brad and Hannah had found themselves in an Elvis Chapel in Vegas, pledging their future to one another.
Hannah went into her bedroom, and dug out a shoebox from beneath her bed. It was full of old photos and mementos. She searched through the piles, till she came to the cheaply framed picture of her wedding day. Brad had insisted on dressing up in a Rhinestone body suit. It still made Hannah laugh. He looked ridiculous, but she didn’t look any better. Having drunkenly decided to go “full Vegas,” she’d found the tightest, shortest mini dress she could find and the highest stilettos. In the picture they were surrounded by their friends—people Hannah hadn’t seen in years. She looked at the picture fondly. Brad had been troubled, no doubt about that, but he had been fun. The foolish marriage aside, she would never regret that vacation. Her last hurrah, a taste of much needed freedom before she buckled down to carving out her career.
She was intrigued to see what had become of Brad. She was actually surprised that this much time had passed without him contacting her to get the marriage annulled. Hannah’s dating landscape had been pretty barren, solely due to her working hours and somewhat narrow-minded focus on her job, but she would have thought Brad would have found a nice girl to settle down with by now.
“Do we have any ice-cream?” her roommate, Laura, stood in the doorway looking utterly miserable.
“No, honey, we don’t. Are you okay?”
“No,” she pouted, “Long shift working with Grayson. It was horrible. He yelled for hours, and I was so tired I didn’t even know what he was yelling about.”
“Yuck. I’m sorry, that sounds rough.” Grayson was the Chief of Staff at the general hospital where Hannah and Laura where finishing off their residency. He was an acidic demon, and getting on the wrong side of him would lead to shifts ending in tears. For Laura, it always necessitated buckets of ice cream.
“Come on,” Hannah ushered her into the living room, and wrapped her up in a blanket on the sofa. “I’ll go out and get some.”
“Really?” Laura’s eyes lit up, “Thank you, thank you. I’ll do your laundry duty next week.”
Hannah laughed, “No you won’t–you never have time to follow through on that promise, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
Laura smiled sheepishly.
“By the way, “Hannah continued, “have you heard of Port Ursa?”
“In Alaska?”
“Yes! Do you know it?”
“Not really. My dad went fishing there once. I think it’s a bit of a nightmare to get to–like, one of the islands you can only get to by boat or bush plane or something.”
“Of course it is,” Hannah sighed, “Salted caramel?”
“Can you get that and a cookie dough one?”
“Don’t push your luck.” Hannah picked up her keys and purse. “Be back in five.”
Laura gave her a helpless wave from her position on the sofa.
Hannah marched down the stairs, mildly annoyed that the one rare week she got off would be spent traipsing around in Alaska, no doubt freezing her ass off, trying to locate her legal husband.
Chapter two
“I think we should expand,” Colton Sterling leaned back in his chair, idly scratching his lean torso as he waited for his brothers’ response.
“It’s risky, Colton,” Wyatt spoke in measured tones, “It makes me nervous that we couldn’t cover it with the income from the current fishery.”
“But we can easily cover it with Sterling Outfitters,” remarked Colton, “We’re running a multi-billion-dollar chain. What else do you want to do with the profits?”
Colton’s brother sighed.
“Come on, Wyatt. You know he’s right.” Tucker Sterling broke the silence, “He was right the last time, he’s right this time, and he’s going to be right next time.”
The three brothers sat around the table. They had been playing a game of poker, but talk had turned to business as it so often did. The whisky had stopped being poured as they tried to reach a solution, the game on pause while each man carefully considered the options.
Years ago, when their father died, the three brothers had been left running the family’s small camping goods and outdoor supplies store right in the heart of “nowhereville” Alaska. Colton alone had seen the bigger picture; Alaska was growing its tourist influx every year. Visitors poured in seasonally for adventure and nature watching in the brutal, pristine Alaskan wilderness. All the small towns had an outdoor goods supply shop, but the quality varied, as did the stock. Colton’s brainstorm had been to take over each of these mom and pop stores, one by one, whilst keeping on board the experts who had been running each shop, as employees. It meant more income for them, as well as access to superior quality products. Thus, Sterling Supplies became Sterling Outfitters, Inc. and within a few years, new stores popped up in various locations in a chain that encompassed Alaska, Canada, and most of the lower 48 states. Sterling Outfitters was now a household name. No one could deny that Colton had a mind for business that bordered on genius.
Now, Colton was keen to replicate the model in the fishing industry.
“You know it’s not just the money, Colton,” Wyatt reminded him, “The Jackson pack aren’t pleased with our stronghold here. Purchasing the fishery that previously belong to their pack isn’t going to help politics.”
“Shit, Wyatt, Jackson drank that place into the ground. If it’s not us, that place will just go to waste. There’s no one here that has the inclination to take on a place with so much bad debt attached.”
The brothers were at a stalemate. Both Wyatt and Colton looked to Tucker, waiting for his input.
“Look, let’s talk to Joe about it, see what he says. I agree with Colton, this is a good opportunity and it shouldn’t go to waste, but we also need to think about what the consequences are going to mean for relations between our clan and the wolves. I don’t want more shit from Jackson and the rest of them cocksuckers.” Tucker reached for the bottle of whisky. His action decreeing that the subject was now closed.
Joe Sterling was the uncle of the three men. When their father, Joe’s brother, died, Joe took over as Alpha of the bear clan. Tensions between the wolf pack and bear clan had been growing steadily more precarious. Their father, Jeremiah Sterling, had died in his car, driving back home from work. The investigation into his death wasn’t much at the time. Port Ursa had been such a small town that the police and legal infrastructure hadn’t amounted to much, and the car had been deemed faulty. The death was recorded as an accident. The Sterling clan had their suspicions, though, grounded in the fact that two of Jackson’s pack members had reportedly been seen hanging around the lot where Jeremiah’s car was parked that day.
Tucker poured each of his brothers a drink, and then raised his glass.
“To the Sterling clan. Long may we prosper.”
“Long may we prosper,” echoed Colton and Wyatt, before each downing the golden liquid.
“How’s that woman you’re seeing from San Fran?” Tucker asked.
Colton had spent the last two months opening a store on the San Francisco coastline, whilst simultaneously catching the attention of a local lawyer.
“She’s great. We’ve had a good time,” Colton shrugged.
“Let me guess – you won’t be seeing her again?” Tucker laughed, rolling his eyes at his younger brother.
“Woman in every port, huh, bro?” Wyatt commented, his smile wry.
“Come on, neither of you can talk. Wyatt, when was the last time you even went on a date? And Tucker, you know you’re as bad as I am. I can’t believe you’re both giving me shit for this.”
“Believe it, brother. We know we’re all doomed to perpetual bachelorhood, so we might as well laugh about it,” Tucker replied.
“Yeah, well, I’m too busy making money for you two, to think about settling down.” Colton stood up and shrugged his coat on before either of them could think of a comeback.
***
Colton stood at the dock, it was about ten in the evening but still not dark. The perpetual half-light of the spring evenings had begun, and would continue till September. He could still see the light of the horizon, just a sliver, where dawn was breaking over some far off point on the North Pacific Ocean.
The Alaskan spring had brought some warmth with it, but the evenings still remained viciously cold, and Colton pulled his jacket tighter against himself as he gazed out onto the swaying bulks of the commercial fishing ships rocking in the bay.
Colton had a good feeling about the fishing investment. He’d eventually want to expand their catchment all the way to Japan, but for now he would be content with the Alaskan coast. As much as his brothers’ hesitation frustrated him, rationally he knew they had good reason.
The Jackson pack wasn’t just at odds with the Sterling clan, they were also fighting within their own ranks. Drake Hansen, a wolf that had been brought up in Alaska as part of one of the oldest Yupik packs, had returned from the military to find his pack had been taken over by Simon Jackson’s faction. At the time he’d had no choice but to fall into rank, but since the death of Jeremiah Sterling and the civil unrest this had caused between clan and pack, Drake had seen an opportunity to divide the pack and reconsolidate Yupik power.
The days of Port Ursa being a small, local and peaceful town were drawing to a close. As Colton had predicted, the town had grown rapidly in size–almost too quickly for local infrastructure to keep up. The police department was still based a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Port Ursa, which included a ferry trip, and that was on a good day. During winter, it was better to take a bushplane.
Colton sniffed the air, clearing his senses. He could detect an out of season snow rush coming. Earlier this week, he had considered inviting the lawyer to Alaska for the weekend. He had too much work on to travel, but if the weather was going to be bad it was wise to wait. A couple of nights with the woman would have done him the world of good, but he didn’t want her getting stranded for an entire week. A week would be entirely too much together time. Better to remain solo this weekend and get on with persuading the rest of the Sterling family that fishing was the next frontier.
Chapter three
Hannah hadn’t realized the logistical nightmare of getting to Port Ursa. She’d taken a seven-hour flight to Anchorage, then a one-hour connecting flight to Kodiak. Once there, she’d had to rent an SUV before taking a ferry across to Port Ursa.
She’d been able to appreciate the breath-taking beauty of the landscape, the surreal light that turned the sky a sci-fi aqua marine color, the impossibility of such a large, vast stretch of ice and ocean. The moment she’d landed in Anchorage, her phone reception had become laughably obsolete. Hannah knew she would need to lower her city standards considerably and rough it for a while. This part of the world held no prisoners, even less benevolent toward the unprepared and the foolhardy. Hannah had packed the warmest clothes she could find languishing at the back of her wardrobe, and dug out her winter parka. As soon as she got the SUV, she went and purchased an extra gallon of gas to store in the trunk. She wasn’t taking any chances.
She arrived at Port Ursa around four in the evening. The roads were still icy, not yet thawed from the winter. Hannah drove carefully to pick up the keys for the cabin she had rented for the duration of her stay, which she’d hoped would be for one night only.
The town was charming and rustic, mostly wooden buildings dotted here and there selling tourist junk, restaurants and cafes, and expedition centers. Most of the commercial construction took place at the edge of the lively seaport.
Her directions, which fortunately Hannah had the foresight to print out, rather than relying on her phone’s GPS, led her to a small corrugated steel shack. A sign reading ‘Burke Cabins’ hung over the top. Hannah peered in through the window and foun
d a surprisingly cozy room where an old man sat at a table playing Solitaire and smoking a cigar.
She went around and knocked on the door. She could hear him shuffling to his feet, and a few moments later he swung it open.
“Afternoon. Dr. Cooper is it?”
“That’s me, hello.”
“Come on in. Coffee, whisky?”
Hannah wiped her feet on the welcome mat before making her way in, noticing that the old man was wearing a pair of bedroom slippers.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” the old man flicked on the kettle, “I need one on the hour, every hour.”
Hannah’s medical degree kicked in and she dearly wanted to comment on the hazards of stomach ulcers, but held her tongue. She didn’t get the impression it would be very well received.
“I got your keys ready, the place is in good shape. Try not to get too lonely out here. Tourist season hasn’t started yet, so you’ll be the only one in the cabins. I got three up the way,” he gestured up past the main road, “but you’re getting the best.”
“Thank you,” Hannah replied, “I really appreciate it.”
“Huh, don’t thank me yet. You’re a city girl, I can tell. If you want heat in that place, you need to burn a log fire. If you don’t, you’ll freeze your backside off.” The man gave a short bark of laughter at his own joke, and Hannah smiled weakly.
“Ah, don’t mind me. There’s plenty of wood in there for you, you need more, just come down and holler.”
The man shuffled over to a wooden cabinet on the wall and retrieved a set of keys.
“These are them. There’s a manual in the cabin, tell you anything you need to know.” He placed the keys in Hannah’s palm. “What you here for anyway? One of those marine biologists? You lot are always coming and poking around.”
“No, I’m… I’m a medical doctor. I’m just looking for a friend. Brad Crawford?”
“Ah. Yeah, I know the guy. What you want with the likes of him?”
Bears of Burden: HUTCH Page 11