Free Alaskan Wolf by Linda O. Johnston

heard someone speaking in the kitchen. It was Wes, who hung up his cell phone as Patrick walked into the room.
    â€œSounds like you and me have some talking to do,” Wes said, grinning.
    â€œGot some time now?”
    They sat at the kitchen table, Patrick with a glass of orange juice and Wes with coffee.
    Wes looked like a junior version of his dad, muscular, not too tall, with a round face and receding hairline. His gray sweater was threadbare around theelbows and sleeves. His expression was sober. “Give me a heads-up on what you’ll expect from me.”
    â€œWe can’t officially recruit you into Alpha Force,” Patrick said. “Because you’re not in the military any longer. But since you had a high clearance, I can rely on you for backup. Did Major Connell explain our mission?”
    Even if he had, Patrick was certain that Drew would not have revealed the true nature of Alpha Force. Not only was Wes nonmilitary, he had also not been ruled out as a suspect in Shaun’s murder.
    But Patrick might need backup as he investigated the disappearing glaciers, and that was what, in generalities, he revealed to Wes.
    â€œThat was one reason for our partying so much at Fiske’s,” Patrick confirmed to Wes. “To talk to the scientists hanging out there in a relaxed setting, where they won’t know how interested we are in their answers.”
    â€œGot it. What else?”
    â€œWe’ll wing it. Glad you’re on board.”
    Wes might be a real asset, since he knew people around here. Some of what Patrick needed to accomplish involved learning people’s observations about the glaciers.
    Tonight, though, when Patrick visited Great Glaciers National Park in wolf form, he would be on his own.
    Â 
    Mariah had time to kill before meeting with the local science teacher. She knew exactly where she wanted to go: the closest place that had Wi-Fi. The internet connection in the business center at her little B and B had worked out okay last night, but it was slow.
    Besides, she wanted to use her own laptop for ease of storing information she found during her research.
    Most of all, she wanted to be sure no one could see, in some menu of last topics researched, exactly what she was looking for.
    She would walk to the Tagoga Library. It wasn’t far from Inez’s B and B. And if she made a call on the way, her conversation wouldn’t be overheard.
    She bundled up and started outside. Walking wasn’t the safest thing to do on slick sidewalks during heavy snow flurries, but she used her cell to phone her boss, the editor of Alaskan Nature Magazine, among other publications. “Hi, Harold.” She snugged the receiver against her ear beneath her knit cap.
    Harold Hanrahan wasn’t much older than Mariah’s age of thirty-one. He had taken over his family’s publishing company when his father, its founder, had had enough of Alaska’s winters and moved to Florida. Harold had already been an editor, and he was also an excellent businessman. In addition to Alaskan Nature, he now owned a weekly publication distributed in several small towns—filled with lots of advertising—and a monthly rag that focused on gossip and celebrity sensationalism.
    Neither was to Mariah’s taste, but she occasionally wrote articles for them, on Harold’s request. After all, she’d written similar swill in her past. And under Harold’s tenure, subscriptions to Alaskan Nature had tripled. Its distribution outlets all over the country now included not only standard places like newsstands but also unusual ones like pet stores, animal rescue organizations and even stores that sold sporting goods and outdoor gear.
    â€œSo tell me more about that murder,” he said with no preamble.
    â€œI doubt it has anything to do with the article I’m researching,” she retorted wryly, but she nevertheless told him all she knew—which wasn’t much.