Loyal Wolf (2 page)

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

K
athlene 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.

* * *

Ralf was now ensconced in the backseat. Although Kathlene turned the car toward town as they exited the motel's entrance driveway, she told Jock she would drive them farther along this road on their return—past the entry to the formerly abandoned ranch where the people she believed to be anarchists now lived and multiplied.

“That's where we'll do whatever recon we decide on later,” she said. “But I figured I'd get you started by showing you the town and innocently drive past the area on our return to your motel room.”

“Thanks,” Jock said. “That'll work. And I'd like you to tell us everything you know and suspect so Ralf and I will be able to do our job here.”

She heard between the lines. They thought they were going to exclude her.

They weren't.

Right now, as promised, she headed toward town.

As she drove down Main Street, she chatted about Cliffordsville, the shops they passed, the nature of the place before the anarchists had started appearing. They drove along a well-stocked commercial area, with stores ranging from name-brand casual clothes to a men's suit outlet to a variety of restaurants from fast-food to nice, sit-down dining.

Main Street was pretty much a straight line, with a few traffic lights to allow drivers to pull onto it from the myriad side streets, some of which were also commercial, and others led to residential areas.

They didn't drive far enough down it to reach the County Administration Building, City Hall and the Sheriff's Department. The official part of town sat on the outskirts of the business area.

Kathlene liked Cliffordsville. A lot. She had made it her home.

Unlike Missoula, where she had grown up, it held only good memories for her—at least before.

Nothing controversial.

Not till recently, at least.

But her mind veered in different directions from all she was talking about. She was determining how she was going to take a stand and make it clear to Jock that she would participate in the investigation. Period.

“Where do you live?” Jock asked out of the blue. They had just turned down a side street so she could show them some of the closest residential areas—but she hadn't intended to show them her house.

A jolt rocked through her body nonetheless. She knew he wasn't asking to come home with her, yet the idea suddenly heated up her insides as if he had suggested they engage in some down and dirty sex.

Damn. She'd already convinced herself not to feel turned on by this man—hadn't she? She wanted them to be comrades in arms, conspirators in figuring out what was really going on in that odd and growing encampment outside town.

She knew what would turn her off. Fast.

“I own a house in the same general direction we just turned,” she told him as casually as she could muster. “It's in a small residential neighborhood within the city limits, though. The cabins where you're staying are in an area considered to be outside town, although still within Clifford County, which means they're within the sheriff's department's jurisdiction.” She paused. “As I said before, I'll be spending time with you at your cabin. That'll help us look like the old friends we're supposed to be. I'll also accompany you if you go camping. That way, I'll be able to help in your surveillance.”

There. The gauntlet had been thrown down once more, but this time she had given a cursory reason why she should be with them at least part of the time as they worked.

Jock said nothing. But as Kathlene reached Main Street again and stopped for a traffic light, she looked over at him.

He seemed to be staring out the windshield, but his large hands were fisted in his lap. What was he thinking?

She had a feeling she wouldn't like it. But she was dying to know.

* * *

The woman was trying to drive him nuts—and not just because she was so hot that he didn't really want to keep his hands off her. But he would. Sex would only complicate things even further.

She had to keep her nose out of what Ralf and he were doing. Hell, Jock knew she had no idea about the facts.

First of all, when he did his surveillance of the supposed anarchists' camp, he wouldn't look like he did at the moment.

No. He would look a lot more like his cover dog, Click. The dog Ralf had gone to check on in the cabin next door before they left their motel.

Click must have been fine, or Ralf would have stayed behind. Or at least said something.

Jock glanced quickly into the backseat. Ralf remained there, of course. Looking all nice and neutral—and interested. But staying out of the conversation.

A good thing? Maybe. But it might be better if his aide participated. Even took over for him. Ralf was good at being discreet, keeping things calm.

Keeping Jock in line, both in human and in wolf form.

At the moment, Jock knew he had to make his position clear with Kathlene. Not give her all the facts. But even though she had been the one to trigger Alpha Force's involvement by taking her concerns to the right government contacts, now she had to stay back and let him do what was necessary—and only with Ralf's help, not hers.

He thought more about Ralf and what he should do. What he should say.

And how their commanding officer, Major Drew Connell—the man who had approved Jock's enlistment into the military and into Alpha Force, the man who had first created the very special elixir that gave Alpha Force's shifting members such an edge over other shapeshifters, other
people
—would handle this.

Discretion is the key,
he reminded himself.

He let himself respond to Kathlene's challenge at last.

“I appreciate your offer to help out,” he lied, but he did manage to keep his tone calm and level. “The thing is, you may not know it, but Alpha Force's position is that, once we accept a mission, we work alone, without outside help.” Another lie, but it made sense, especially now.

“That may work sometimes,” Kathlene said, her tone as flat as his, “but not here. Not now. I need to stay involved because I
am
involved.”

“But you could get hurt!” Damn. He hadn't meant to blast that out that way. It was what was on his mind, though.

Always. Especially in a situation like this.

“I won't,” she countered, her voice raised as much as his. He wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her. But he couldn't. Not with her driving.

Besides, he found Deputy Kathlene Baylor so attractive, so sexy, that touching her again for any reason would be a huge mistake. All he would want to do, despite all his common sense, would be to get her under the covers.

And then what would happen to the mission she had gotten him into?

His attraction to her was a huge part of the problem, though. He couldn't help comparing this lovely, determined woman with Jill, his high school sweetheart.

Jill, a shapeshifter like him.

Jill, who had gone into law enforcement like Kathlene.

And who had been killed during her first year on the job, not while shifted but while in human form on a dangerous assignment.

Would Jill have survived if she'd been a man? If she had been in wolf form? Unlikely, of course, and he knew that even wondering about it allowed him no closure, especially after all this time.

But one thing Jock was sure of. He didn't like it at all when women he felt attracted to got into perilous circumstances. If he happened to be there, he'd save them.

There was no way of his being certain he could be with them at the crucial time, though. He knew what a dinosaur he might be—yet, thanks to what had happened to Jill, he couldn't help thinking it was a lot more foolish of women, even trained ones, to put themselves into hazardous situations than it was for men.

Because they were not physically as strong, they were more likely to get killed.

“Jock?” Her challenging tone shrieked irritation. She was waiting for his further response.

He still said nothing. He wasn't about to explain his beliefs to her—or his rationale for them.

“Jock, tell you what. I appreciate your protective attitude.” She sounded anything but appreciative, yet she continued. “But I'll prove to you that I can take care of myself. I'm a skilled law-enforcement officer. I've been trained in everything from accuracy in shooting guns of nearly all types to hand-to-hand combat. I'm challenging you, Jock. We'll start when we get back to the cabin. If I can pin you to the floor in a hand-to-hand fight, then you'll let me be there when you do your surveillance and more.”

* * *

Silly? Foolish? Absurd to the max? All of the above. But the challenge had been impulsive, a way to show him who she was and what she really was made of.

And now? Well, she had no choice. She could do it. She
would
do it.

Notwithstanding her inability to fully read Jock's expression when he looked at her so incredulously.

There seemed to be an angry set to his brow.

A heated look in his blue eyes that suggested her words had turned him on.

Since it was now early evening, she went through a fast-food drive-in lane and they all got their meals, which they ate in the car. Fine with her. She was on a mission of sorts and didn't want any further interruptions just now.

Next, she did as she had planned from the moment they had set out on this drive. She made a left turn at one of the traffic lights, then drove them onto the narrowing lane they had come from before.

This time, though, she went beyond where the cabin motel lay, heading down the road even farther.

There was a sparse number of homes along it, some tiny, others large, mostly in good condition, but a few were run-down cottages that had been there forever. All were set in the midst of large stands of trees, some with branches carved back to avoid blocking the road and others somewhat in the way.

Eventually, she reached the turnoff she had been looking for, a very narrow, nondescript driveway. No one could tell from this better-traveled drag what lay beyond.