Free Alaskan Wolf by Linda O. Johnston Page A

“But that’s one reason I’m calling,” she said. “I intend to look a little more closely into what’s going on around here. If I see anything we can use for a cover story relating not only to wildlife, but anything touching on natural occurrences around here, I’ll follow up.”
    â€œ Un natural occurrences, too,” he said gruffly. “Write about anything juicy you find out about the killing, and I’ll include your article in the Advertiser or the Journal, whichever works best.”
    It was the response she had anticipated, shereflected as she hung up and carefully stuck her phone into her purse with one hand. Her other hand held her laptop’s case, and both were covered in bulky, warm gloves.
    And though she really didn’t want to get into the details of Shaun’s death, she could now justify spending time researching it to see where it led.
    More info about Patrick Worley? Maybe. They’d clearly been friends.
    She reached the Tagoga Library. Fortunately, despite the smallness of the town and compactness of its library, it was advanced enough to make Wi-Fi available to its patrons.
    Nearly filled bookshelves lined the room, surrounding about a dozen small tables. The place wasn’t crowded, and after waving a greeting to the librarian on duty, she chose a table as far from the door as possible to set up her computer.
    After removing her gloves and jacket, and rubbing her hands together to warm them in the comfortable heat of the library, Mariah sat down and started to work.
    First, she did a Google search on Shaun Bethune, to see if she could learn anything more about him than she’d found on the inn’s computer last night—like what he’d done before working at the Great Glaciers Dogsled Ranch. She’d gotten the impressionhe hadn’t been there much longer than Patrick, an apparent newcomer.
    She found nothing on anyone she thought could be this Shaun. Few people with his name were listed, and the ages, and circumstances of their listings didn’t sound like the man who had just died.
    An apparent dead end—and she didn’t intend the pun. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t learn anything about him. Her research would have to be done here in Tagoga, subtly. And without interfering with her researching the article she really wanted to write.
    She had one more person to research before looking for information about local schools, to prepare for her interview later.
    She looked up Patrick Worley. She had an excuse to check Shaun on Google: a writer’s investigative curiosity. But her reason to look up Patrick on the internet was simply that she was interested.
    She found quite a few people with his name, including businessmen and scientists, medical doctors and educators—but none that sounded like him.
    Until she came to a Patrick Worley who was the survivor of two deceased Maryland citizens, including a veterinarian. If this was him, he had come by his love of dogs naturally.
    Only…how odd! The stuff she found on various websites—including pages devoted to the town of Mary Glen, where the vet’s practice had been—wasfull of allusions to local legends. Werewolves, of all things!
    Of course that had been discredited. There had been some odd goings-on in the town, including the murder of that Patrick Worley’s dad and mother, too. But the killer had been found.
    Nothing for Mariah to use, most certainly not in her article on local wildlife in the Tagoga, Alaska, area. Or even a story on the death of Shaun Bethune.
    But this could certainly explain why Patrick was so closemouthed about his background. Who would want to admit to having had his world shaken up by a bunch of woo-woo, credulous fruitcakes?
    And Patrick—there were a couple of mentions of the surviving son, and the fact he had enlisted in the military but was dishonorably discharged.
    Her Patrick?
    There was no explanation of