Chapter 1

October 16, 2018
San Diego, California

Letty Duquesne wound her way through the ornate Spanish architecture of Balboa Park, dodging tourists and scanning the crowd. Even on a weekday, the place was packed. Families taking photos, school kids on their way to one of the twenty-plus museums spread throughout the park, and an assortment of street musicians playing everything from Mozart to Bon Jovi.

She dropped a few dollars in an upturned hat and aimed for the shade of an archway. As much as she wanted to pretend otherwise, her shift from the familiar comfort of working in academia to her current situation — a new job, in a new company, in a new city — hadn’t been exactly smooth. No matter how committed she was to making the Jessa Duquesne Foundation a success, the past month she’d spent “starting over” was harder than she’d expected.

Lonelier.

Which was how she’d wound up on the friendship equivalent of a “first date.”

Letty scanned the crowd again and, this time, spotted Gemma on the opposite side of the lily pond, waving to her from the foot of the Botanical Building.

The JDF’s office manager and general jack-of-all-trades looked like Debbie Harry. She had a shock of what had to be home-dyed platinum-white hair, Doc Martens, and jeans that had been hacked off mid-calf.

Gemma pointed to a short stone bench, her eyebrows raised in a question — this good?

Letty gave her a thumbs-up and made her way through the crowd to where Gemma now sat cross-legged on the bench. “This is perfect.” Letty smiled as she sat beside her. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Thanks for the invite.” Gemma slid a silver packet from the pocket of her oversized blazer, her voice kissed with a South London accent. “I usually eat at my desk. But with everything that’s been going on, I’m glad for the break. I’m knackered.”

“I bet.” Letty pulled a takeout salad from her bag and balanced the plastic clamshell on her lap. “Seems like getting Mark ready for tomorrow’s presentation took a full-court press.” The handful of people that made up the foundation’s on-site staff had been in and out of his office all day, every day for the past week. Mark would be at his desk when she arrived in the morning and still there when she left each night, poring over binder after binder of data. Reviewing everything the foundation had been able to find about the rise in animal attacks, the increase in zoonotic diseases crossing over to the human population, and the myriad governmental responses… or failures to respond.

In a reasonable world, the volume of the data alone would’ve been enough to establish the need for greater action. The need for some centralized agency, like Jessa’s foundation, to manage a response. But, of course, things didn’t work that way. Not when half the congressional committee formed to look into the public’s concerns were the same folks who claimed climate change was a hoax.

The thready notes of “Livin’ on a Prayer” slipped through the courtyard, the street musician’s violin shrill but on beat.

“You have no idea how mad it’s been.” Gemma ripped open the silver packet and pulled out a rainbow-sprinkled Pop-Tart. “Usually Mark’s only in after hours. He’s got to be at Stafford Oil during business hours, but lately he’s at the foundation all the time. And he’s stressed as hell.” She picked a sprinkle from the top of the pastry and popped it in her mouth. “At least Kathryn came to the rescue. I can’t imagine how we would’ve gotten Mark ready without her helping to manage his Stafford Oil work load this week.” Gemma chewed another bite and swallowed. “Even if having her here does set my teeth on edge.”

“Really?” Letty forked through her salad, building the perfect bite of chicken, feta, and cucumber. “She seems nice enough.” And the day Kathryn had arrived had been the only time Letty had seen Mark smile since she’d come to California.

“She’s alright, I guess. Does so much for the JDF, she should be on payroll.” Gemma shrugged, brushing crumbs from her jeans. “I just don’t trust anyone that doesn’t age.”

Letty laugh-choked on a piece of lettuce. Kathryn’s Upper East Side vibe was sort of intimidating. “Well, Botox or not, I’m glad she’s gonna be there tomorrow to back him up.” They had too much riding on what happened at that meeting for Mark to go it alone. There was only so much the foundation could do to identify what might be causing the changes they were seeing in the animal world without having access to real-time information about what was happening globally. As much good as they were doing handling any individual case, it wouldn’t be enough to make a real difference unless they could see the trends and follow them back to the source.

Poor Mark had to know how much was riding on tomorrow’s presentation, had to feel the weight of what failure would mean. Especially when the foundation’s future would be decided by a bunch of political cronies. “I can’t imagine how stressed he must be. I mean, who gets called to speak before a congressional committee?”

“He didn’t exactly get a summons. He volunteered, so that’s a little less scary. And he’s there for the greater good. Maybe he’ll get a nicer reception than they give their usual lot.”

“True.” The other CEOs who spoke before congressional committees were usually there to get a public reprimand. A slap on the wrist after they’d used the corporate structure to get away with one form of mass destruction or another. And those people were nothing like Mark. She felt an odd sense of pride in her once almost brother-in-law, now boss, even though she couldn’t claim responsibility for all the work he’d done in Jessa’s memory. For all the things he was still trying to do.

Letty picked her way through the salad. Where would he be now? On a plane? Probably halfway to DC, with his dark head bent over another binder. Wearing the glasses that made him look so much more serious than he did in her memories.

The ones she shouldn’t be thinking about.

Gemma popped open an energy drink. “All we can do at this point is keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best.”

“Yeah, for sure.” Letty cleared her throat, forcing herself back to the present. To reality. “I’m glad we did this.” She looked up at the palm trees swaying above them, then to the giant lath structure of the Botanical Building reflected in the pond. Built for a world’s fair more than a hundred years before, it still stood proud and beautiful, giving them shade on a day too warm for October. “It’s nice to be outside for a bit.”

“Careful what you ask for.” Gemma broke off another piece of pastry. “I’m surprised they didn’t just skip orientation and send you out into the field already. We’ve been swamped all summer and now into the fall, every scientist on the team out on assignment since the doors opened. Seems like every other day we get a request from somewhere. Mountain lions turning the hiking trails in Oakland into a buffet. Or some crazy hyper-virulent bird flu popping up in the middle of Copenhagen. God knows what’s next.”

Letty shoved a bite of salad in her mouth, chewing it along with the guilt she’d been trying to ignore since she’d realized how understaffed the foundation was. A situation that was in some part — maybe a large part — her fault.

She’d been meant to start working with the foundation in August. But it had taken longer than she’d expected to end her lease, to close up her life at the university, to say goodbye to Bill and Priya. And, then, she hadn’t wanted to miss Andrew’s wedding. A smile flickered over her face. Renee had been beautiful at the ceremony, she and Andrew both glowing over Renee’s baby bump.

Of course, she hadn’t realized her delay would leave the foundation short a scientist. She cringed. It was not an ideal situation for them to be in as Mark prepared to offer up their services to the world.

Literally.

Gemma finished her Pop-Tart and took another deep swig from an eye-poppingly chartreuse can of caffeine. “You know, if Mark convinces the committee to let the foundation manage the country’s national response, you may never see the inside of an office again.”

Letty couldn’t imagine anything better. She stabbed a cucumber with her fork. “I’d almost always rather be in the field.” And a little space from Mark wouldn’t be a bad thing either. He’d be back in a few days, and so would the awkward silences that cropped up anytime the two of them were alone together.

It wasn’t that he was rude. He’d taken her to lunch when she first started, said all the right things — he was so glad she was there, she should let him know if she needed anything, maybe they could grab a coffee or he could help her get settled. But it was stilted, and no matter how nice he was when they ran into each other in the halls or at the office coffee pot, she could never think of what to say. She put her fork down with the cucumber still stuck to the tines. It was like the past clogged up her throat, wrapped her brain in cotton, and nothing but basic banalities would come out. If that.

He had eventually stopped trying.

Which was almost worse.

Gemma’s phone rang from her purse. As she went digging for it, a huge brown bird with white markings swooped through the promenade. It narrowly missed a camera-laden tour group, the crowd ducking and screeching as it swept past.

A red-shouldered hawk.

Letty tracked the bird’s ascent back into the sky as it rounded over the Botanical Building and came back for a second pass. What was it after? She scanned the ground for a mouse or chipmunk. Maybe a smaller bird? Hawks would eat most anything their size or smaller. Although it was odd for it to be hunting here, in a place so crowded with people.

“This is Gemma.” Her new friend finally answered the call, her tone now formal and pure Queen’s English, which meant the call must be important. Something for the foundation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t quite hear that. Could you start again from the beginning?”

The hawk swept back across the pond, its trajectory lower as it headed toward the entrance to the Timken Museum. It landed on the handle of a baby carriage. The mother stood with her back turned to the stroller as she searched for something in a diaper bag.

Gemma lowered her voice. “What do you mean missing?”

Letty glanced back to Gemma. Whatever that was, it didn’t sound good. She kept half her attention on Gemma, the rest on the bird.

The hawk leaned forward, as if trying to see past the cloth draped over the carriage to find what soft morsel might wait inside.

Letty’s mouth went dry, and she clapped her hands, hoping to startle the bird into flight.

It ignored her.

The animal would have no reason to hurt a child. But if the past year had taught her anything, it was that she couldn’t assume it would act predictably. Things were different now. Very different.

Letty shifted to the edge of her seat.

The bird turned, meeting Letty’s gaze. Its eyes reflected a flat, predatory black.

“Shoo.” She stood, clapping her hands again in its direction and moving closer. “Excuse me?” She called out to the mother, who was still busy digging through the baby’s bag.

The hawk kneaded its claws against the stroller’s handle.

“You’re not going to believe this.” Gemma turned her way.

Letty didn’t break eye contact with the bird. “Hang on.” She strode toward the carriage, the bird not moving an inch. A few other tourists turned to look, but no one moved to help.

The mother plucked a pacifier from the bag and turned. A shriek tore out of her, and she threw herself toward the carriage.The bird took off in a flutter of indignant feathers, and a wail came from inside the stroller as the mother hurried to wheel the child away.

Letty finally let go of a breath and turned back to Gemma, who seemed only now to have realized what had been happening with the hawk. They both watched as the bird disappeared over the roof of the museum.

Gemma refocused on Letty, and lines creased around her eyes. “Cody Crawford’s gone missing.”

“Crawford?” Letty tried to place the name. “That’s the large mammal guy, right?”

“Yeah. That’s him. He’s been up in Alaska working on our polar bear case. Seems he went out to the incident site and got lost in the woods.” She cringed, whether from worry or as an acknowledgment of how bad that sounded, Letty couldn’t tell.

Gemma dropped the phone back into her purse. “Search and Rescue’s out looking now, but they say it doesn’t look good. No sign of him.”

Letty sat on the bench, watching the sky for any sign of the hawk.

The idea that Crawford might just “get lost” in the woods didn’t sound right. She’d spent an hour after work one night browsing the bios for the foundation’s other scientists, mostly out of a perverse desire to know how she stacked up. From what she remembered, Crawford was an experienced field researcher like her, mostly working with large carnivores. He would have known not to go out to the site alone. And, even if he had, he wouldn’t just wander off and not be able to find his way back. When you spent your life working in one unknown wilderness after another, navigation was part of the basic skill package.

Letty closed the lid on her salad, her appetite gone.

If Crawford was missing, chances were good he wasn’t coming back.

***

Excerpt from Unnatural Intent by Brooke L French. Copyright 2024 by Brooke L French. Reproduced with permission from Brooke L French. All rights reserved.