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Loyal Wolf
Loyal Wolf
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Loyal Wolf

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Beds? Her mind again darted to that hug and the feel of his body against her. She quickly looked away.

In one corner was a kitchenette, and beside it a small table with two chairs. Should she sit there with Jock to go over the situation? Safer than anywhere near the beds, of course.

But what about Ralf?

Good thing he was still around. That also helped Kathlene focus on what was important, and not how her libido had been stoked.

Ralf stood near Jock, arms crossed, watching her. He was shorter than Jock and not quite as muscular, but he, too, looked strong. The gray in his black hair was surprising since he didn’t look older than mid-thirties, only a few years older than Kathlene. Ralf’s facial features were wide and suggested, like his last name, a Hispanic background. Like Jock, his casual outfit didn’t even hint that he was currently in the military and on assignment.

Jock must have caught her indecision. He gestured with one muscular arm toward the table. “You and I can sit there, and Ralf will hang out near us.”

Ralf strode toward the nearest wall and leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest. It appeared that he was used to taking orders from Jock. All Kathlene had been told about them was that they were members of a covert military unit called Alpha Force, her “friend” Jock was a lieutenant, and he would be accompanied by a noncommissioned officer.

She only hoped that the two of them could at least provide whatever juice was needed to bring in more help if needed.

And she expected it would be.

For now she, like Ralf, followed the sort-of instructions that Jock gave and sat at the table.

And decided how best to begin this conversation.

* * *

Jock sent Ralf to the kitchen area to grab bottles of water for all of them. Until he rejoined them, this would be a good time to learn Kathlene’s background.

Like, did she believe in shapeshifters?

He laughed internally at the thought. That was a question that would never get asked.

As she spoke, she told him she had always lived in Montana, moving from Missoula after college.

Despite their cover story, Jock had never been in Montana before. He had grown up in Wisconsin, another state where there were more rural areas than city life. Where wilderness was the primary topography.

That was where his family had settled long ago. The remoteness helped to hide what they were. But what he was had made him gravitate toward the U.S. Military as soon as he first heard of Alpha Force.

Ralf returned and placed a bottle of water on the smooth but unpolished wooden table before each of them.

“Here’s to our success in resolving the Clifford County situation,” Jock said, raising his bottle.

“I’ll drink to that,” Kathlene said. Ralf joined them in their alcohol-free toast. The look on Kathlene’s face nevertheless appeared strained, as if she doubted they in fact would be successful.

If so, he intended to surprise her. In many ways.

Right now it was time to really get down to business. And talk.

And make sure he ignored how much lust he felt for this lovely, obviously determined woman.

Kathlene started their conversation after downing a drink of water. “I chose this motel for you to stay in,” she said, “because the former ranch where the people I believe are anarchists are gathering isn’t far from here.”

“Yes, the anarchists,” Jock said. “Why we’re here. I’d like you to tell us why you think that’s who they are. I’ve looked at the file that was started on this matter before Alpha Force was called in, but as I said I want your version.”

“Of course.” She seemed to hesitate, but only for a second. And there was nothing at all hesitant in the strong, sure glare of her blue eyes. “I could be wrong about the whole thing but I don’t think so. The number of people at the apparent conclave, all men as far as I can tell, keep increasing. They stay mostly to themselves but when I’ve headed in the direction of the formerly abandoned ranch where they live, I’ve sometimes heard gunshots.”

“It’s late summer,” Ralf said from behind them. “Isn’t it hunting season for something?”

“The season for large game like elk, moose and all tends to start in late September. But when any members of this group have come into town, they seem to make it a point of saying they’ve been holding target practice to be ready when the season starts.”

“That target practice could also be with the intent of hunting more than wildlife,” Jock said.

Like people?

That was the crux of their involvement here. They would find out about what these hunters, or whatever they were, were up to.

And stop them if necessary.

Perhaps in the form of an animal they otherwise would hunt.

A wolf.

Jock glanced at Ralf, who nodded. He undoubtedly knew exactly what Jock was thinking.

* * *

The sudden glance between Jock and Ralf stoked Kathlene’s curiosity. This man wasn’t a fan of hunting? His look of displeasure actually pleased Kathlene. She might have gone into law enforcement, but her intent was to save as many lives as possible, human and animal.

Especially human. That was the reason she had become a deputy sheriff. She knew more than most people what it was like to lose loved ones to unanticipated and unnecessary violence.

“What about wolves?” Ralf asked. “Are they fair game?”

“Yes, sometimes,” Kathlene said. “I’m not sure what the season for them is this year.”

“Oh,” Jock said.

Kathlene couldn’t quite figure out what his tone meant—irony? Anger? A challenge of some kind?

But she had been saving her biggest concern for last. “It’s not only multiple rounds of gunshots I’ve heard near that old ranch area,” she said. “And I think this is what actually got the military’s attention. There have been explosions, too. Small ones, but more than just shots being fired.”

Her boss, the sheriff, had only shaken his head when she’d mentioned them. Told her she had one hell of a female imagination.

In essence, told her to bug off and maybe respond to some phone calls from senior citizens who called the cops claiming they heard things because they wanted some attention.

Like she supposedly was doing despite her lesser age.

“Interesting,” Jock said. He asked her questions—cogent ones that indicated he actually believed her, which made her feel a lot better than it should.

But she managed to explain her own patrol duties—both assigned by the department and assumed by herself because of her concern about the growing number of apparent hunters hanging out at the old ranch that had been unused for years but apparently had been purchased recently by a relative of one of the men now living there, according to public records. Or at least it had been purchased by someone with the last name Tisal, but not Nate Tisal, the guy who apparently was in charge of the group.

“If anything, they could be terrorists and not also anarchists,” she said, “but when I’ve spoken with any of them, which is rare, their comments suggest that they hate any kind of authority, not only local.”

“If they’re either,” Jock said, “we need to confirm it and shut them down before anyone’s hurt.”

“Definitely,” Kathlene said. “One thing I’m particularly concerned about is that there have been threats made against at least some of the Clifford County Commissioners. A friend of mine who’s a commissioner told me about some anonymous emails with sources that couldn’t be traced, as well as actual letters mailed to the County Administration Building from other parts of the country. They apparently tell the commission to back off from enacting some laws currently under consideration that would help enforce state regulations to protect wildlife and require the arrest of poachers. The sheriff said he’s got some officers looking into it but nothing’s been found so far. It’s not certain that the anarchists are to blame, of course—but with the timing and all, that’s my suspicion.”

“Got it,” Jock said. “We’ll look into that, too. Right now, though, let’s go over our cover story.”

“Yeah,” Ralf said. He’d been leaning against the cabin wall beside the table sipping water. “Jock’s your old buddy, and we’re both insurance salesmen from Seattle, which is where Jock supposedly lives these days, too. Don’t we look like insurance salesmen?” He mugged a little toward Kathlene and she laughed.

“’Course we do,” Jock said. “Risk and liability and all that kind of stuff, right?”

“Right,” Ralf responded. “And high premiums, too.”

Both men laughed this time. Great. They apparently had a good working relationship. But Kathlene hadn’t figured out what Alpha Force was and why it was considered a particularly special military team.

Good thing she had made friends in college with Bill Grantham, whose dad had been an army colonel then. Now he was a general working at the Pentagon. Kathlene, frustrated and not knowing what else to do, had wound up explaining her concerns to Bill about what was going on in Clifford County. General Grantham had listened, then suggested sending in help to scope out their validity. The result had been the deployment here of members of this covert unit. But why Alpha Force? What was Alpha Force all about? Kathlene had no idea...yet. But she would definitely learn.

“You’ll need to explain insurance to me one of these days,” she made herself joke. Then she got serious. “And also about what your special unit’s all about and how you’ll be dealing with the situation here.”

“Sure,” Jock responded. “Once we’ve done our recon and we see what we’re actually up against.”

But why was it that Kathlene had the sense that the last thing that hot, amusing, obviously determined Jock Larabey wanted to do was to let her know what Alpha Force was really about?

“I’ll give you my schedule,” she told them. “I’ll want to be with you as much as possible.”

“No need,” Jock said. “We’ll handle it.”

She glanced at him. He was sharing a look with Ralf that clearly excluded her. What weren’t they saying?

“My participation, helping out? That’s part of the plan,” she said coolly.

“Not exactly.”

“Yes, exactly.”

He just glared at her, but only for a moment before moving on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Now, as I started to say, we’re here from Seattle, which is where we ostensibly live. Right now we’re here visiting my old buddy Kathlene on our way to tour Yellowstone once we’ve done some sightseeing and real camping around here. We love this area, though, and will explore it for fun—or that’s what it’ll look like. But we’ll do some nosing around to find out more about it. That will include where you indicate your anarchists are living.”

“Fine,” she said. “I unfortunately don’t have vacation time I can take right now but I’ll visit you a lot here at the cabin, camp out with you on nights when I don’t have to report for duty early the next day. And—”

“No, not necessary. We’ll hang out in town with you some of the time, get together for lunch or dinner in public, that kind of thing. We’re the ones here undercover, and we’ll handle all the covert investigation stuff. No need for you to get involved.”

Kathlene felt herself rise to a half stand. Her shoulders were tense. Her whole body was stiff, in fact.

Was this man telling her, as her boss, the sheriff, did, that women had no place in down and dirty law-enforcement matters—maybe just pushing paper or bringing coffee?

If that was what he wasn’t saying—but meant—Jock Larabey was going to learn that exactly the opposite was true.

Especially with her.

Chapter 2 (#u46b4df12-b0b8-53bd-9229-8bd1f547b295)

Kathlene decided not to push the point with this man. Not yet. Instead, she suggested that she give them a quick tour of Cliffordsville.

Even though they must have driven through the town to get here, she could give them a different perspective on it, both as a resident and a peace officer.

Not to mention being the person who thought the town—and possibly way beyond—needed help.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Jock said, and Ralf agreed.

They concurred that Kathlene should drive them. Her chauffeuring them around would help substantiate their cover of Jock being an old friend of hers.

“Kathlene and I are going to talk a little bit first,” Jock told Ralf as they reached her car. “Why don’t you meet us at the front gate to this place? You won’t mind stopping there for a minute, will you, Kathlene?”

The cabin-filled motel area was surrounded by a decorative wooden fence, with a gate near the office that was almost always open. “No, that’s fine,” Kathlene said, although she wondered what was really going on after the two men exchanged looks that appeared to hold a brief, silent conversation. Some Alpha Force business that they weren’t going to tell her about?

If so, that was okay—for now. But it made her even more determined to learn what they really were about.

She looked in the rearview mirror after backing her vehicle out of its space in front of the row of cabins where these men were staying. Only a few other cars were around, including a black, nondescript sedan which, considering its proximity to their cabin, was the one she assumed they had come in.

She glanced again into the mirror after aiming her SUV toward the entrance and saw that Ralf still stood there, apparently waiting for her to leave the area before doing whatever he and Jock had communicated about.

That only piqued her curiosity all the more.

“So how long have you lived in Cliffordsville?” Jock asked as she drove slowly toward the parking area near the entrance.

“About six years,” she said, glancing toward the hot-looking man who was getting her to think about sex a whole lot more than she had in ages. Well, she could think about it all she wanted. But the only action around here would be the impending demise of the anarchist group if it presented the kind of threat she believed it did.

“Did you live in Missoula before you went to college there?”

“Yes.” She knew her voice sounded curt with that answer, but he was now edging too close to topics she refused to discuss. Like her childhood and background. Sex? Hah. She was now being turned off by this man thanks to his chosen topic of conversation.

They passed three other rows of identical cabins before reaching the much larger one that served as the reception area and offices. She pulled into a space nearest the exit gate and parked.

To preclude Jock’s continuing her interrogation, she decided it was time for one of her own. “So tell me about Alpha Force,” she said.

His craggy, handsome face seemed to shutter, but only for an instant. Then he smiled. “I’m sure you’ve been told that we’re a covert military group, and we can’t discuss our methodology with anyone, either other military personnel or civilians.”

“But in a situation like this, where I know you’ve been picked out particularly because of whatever it is you do to look into what’s going on here—”

“So did you always know you wanted to go into law enforcement?” His tone was smooth, but his expression was both wry and warning.

He wasn’t going to tell her anything.

Well, she wasn’t going to tell him anything, either, unless she was sure it would help her cause.

Another car pulled through the gate and parked close to the office. Kathlene pretended to study it.

That was when she saw Ralf approaching on foot from the direction from which they’d driven.

Good. This conversation was clearly over.