Free Loyal Wolf by Linda O. Johnston Page A

department.
    Kathlene’s car had been parked in the large outside lot. Was she inside the building?
    She could be out on patrol already. And each sheriff’s department vehicle, parked in rows nearest the building, looked like the rest, with their white color, gold logo and lights on top. Jock could definitely distinguish them from the unofficial ones also parked in that lot where Kathlene had left her car among a bunch of others—ones probably also belonging to the deputies and other department employees.
    It didn’t matter where she was, not now. Or it shouldn’t matter.
    But now that Jock had met her, he worried about her safety—her training and the way she had demonstrated her prowess in hand-to-hand notwithstanding.
    Would she listen to him and stay away that night?
    He doubted it.
    But he had to trust her...didn’t he?
    â€œSo where are we going?” Ralf asked from beside him.
    â€œAny games on TV now? I saw a sports bar not far from the restaurant where we had lunch, and it might be the one Kathlene mentioned. I think this would be a good time for beer and conversation if the place is likely to have any kind of crowd.”
    Ralf pulled his smartphone out of his pocket and slid his fingers over it. “Baseball, of course. But I’m not sure what teams they follow in Montana. There aren’t any major league teams here. Maybe college teams. There’s a baseball game between the Minnesota Twins and New York Yankees being played in the East tonight, starting about now. Maybe they watch stuff like that in the bars, even though it’s not local.”
    â€œWe’ll go see,” Jock said.
    Sure enough, Arnie’s Bar, along Main Street, had a big-screen TV on the wall, and it was tuned to that baseball game. The crowd seemed rather sparse, but of course Jock was used to seeing lots of people gather in bars in the Baltimore area when he and other Alpha Force members decided to join regular humans in their celebration of the teams nearest to their headquarters at Ft. Lukman on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
    Jock motioned for Ralf to join him on a couple of empty stools at the tall wooden bar where most of those present had congregated.
    â€œHi,” he said, the epitome of friendly visitor when the bartender, a short, middle-aged guy who looked as if he enjoyed both the drinks and food he served, came over to take their orders. Both chose a locally brewed bottled beer. Jock liked beer, and drinking one that originated from around here should provide an additional topic of conversation, if they needed one besides sports. Oh, and who besides them were visitors here?
    Jock glanced around at the others surrounding the bar. All eyes were focused on the large screen occupying the wall behind where the bartender bustled around filling orders. Jock looked at the score at the bottom of the picture. Close game. Just one run separated the two teams, but it was only the second inning. Plenty of time for them to jostle for position before one or the other won.
    The bartender plopped bottles and glasses down in front of both Ralf and him without offering to pour. That was fine with Jock. In fact, drinking directly from the bottle seemed more appropriate to this apparent guy hangout.
    He lifted his bottle in a silent toast, and Ralf did the same. Both took swigs just as some members of the small crowd around them started to cheer. Jock looked up to see the screen filled with two players dashing to the next bases. The batter for New York must have hit a double, or at least his teammates were treating it like one.
    â€œHey,” Jock said to the guy on his left side. “Good game, huh?”
    â€œIt’s okay, but it may be over already since the Yanks have scored again.”
    â€œI’m from Seattle,” Jock said, “just visiting here. I wouldn’t mind if the Yanks won. How about you?”
    â€œThe Twins are my team,” he said shortly.
    â€œAre you