Читать книгу Protector Wolf - Linda O. Johnston - Страница 9

Chapter 1

Lieutenant Ryan Blaiddinger strode quickly down the sidewalk.

Beside him were his dog, Rocky, and his aide, Staff Sergeant Piers Janus. The two soldiers were dressed in civilian clothing—nice slacks and button-down shirts. They were here in Fritts Corner, Washington, undercover.

According to the map on Piers’s phone, the park they sought was only a block away. Ryan scoped out the whole street—fairly narrow, considering it was the quaint town’s main avenue. Some of the buildings appeared to have been constructed more than a century ago, with spires, decorative windows and wide porches that led into restaurants and other retail establishments.

“We’re almost there,” Piers said, staring at the phone in his hand. Piers was short and a bit stocky, and despite his being in his early twenties his blondish hair had begun to thin. But he was a damned good helper—in many respects.

Piers held Rocky’s leash, and the dog bounded along with him.

The dog with thick brown-and-black fur who resembled a wolf.

A wolf who looked a lot like Ryan...when he was in shifted form.

The air was brisk but dry on this Thursday afternoon in September. Cars drove by in both directions, with no hint of any traffic jam in this small town. People passed by as well, and a few headed in the same direction they did.

Interesting that on the day of their arrival a public meeting was scheduled about the very topic they’d come to check out.

But maybe it wasn’t too surprising. After all, though there had been sightings of wild wolves for years in various areas of Washington State, even identification of some small packs, the latest new sightings had been right around here, in this area southeast of Tacoma.

And when Ryan, sounding as offhand as he could, mentioned wolf sightings to their hotel’s receptionist a short while ago when they checked in, she had immediately perked up and told him that a naturalist had just come to town and was going to talk on that very topic in less than an hour.

That was really interesting since wolves previously hadn’t been spotted around here much for a long time, the receptionist had acknowledged. Lots of people in town were fascinated by the situation...though some weren’t too happy about it.

There. The open-air park, mostly green, rolling lawn with a few trees, was finally off to their right. A large crowd stood on the grass facing a raised podium that appeared old and worn, perhaps even constructed around the same time as the rest of the town.

On it stood a tall and slender woman. A screen behind her contained a photo of a wolf, projected there by some modern equipment that clearly wasn’t as antique as the town.

“The pictures I’ve shown you are from other areas in Washington,” she was saying into a microphone so her deep, energetic voice projected around the area. “It’s so exciting that wild wolves have been returning to this state. Of course WHaM has been keeping up with the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife’s postings online, as well as US Fish and Wildlife, which has jurisdiction for their protection around here. We’re thrilled—and tracking them, too, taking a census including the official estimate of nineteen packs in the state. Plus, we encourage the media to let the public know. Any media people here?” A few hands were raised. “Great!”

WHaM. That was Wildlife Habitat Monitoring, Ryan knew. He needed to talk to this woman after her presentation, and using his cover of being with the US Fish and Wildlife Service—not the state’s—should make it easy for him to find out everything WHaM knew about the latest wolf sightings.

Of course their agenda was far different from his. Wolf sightings to them would be just that—evidence of the continuing but slow return of wild wolves to increasing locations in this state, fewer here than in the eastern part. And some had already been destroyed after attacking livestock, though not in this area.

Ryan was here on his first lead assignment representing Alpha Force. Rocky and Piers had come along as his backups. He was the only commissioned officer present—and the only member here of that covert military unit of shapeshifters who was actually a shifter himself.

For the moment, he eased his way through the large group of onlookers, men, women and children of all ages, knowing that Piers would follow with Rocky. Rocky might garner some attention since he looked so much like a wolf, but that was because he was Ryan’s cover dog. He had been chosen because of his resemblance to Ryan in shifted form. That way, in case anyone noticed him while shifted, they’d be told it was Ryan’s dog they’d seen. Him as a shapeshifter? What a laugh.

Or so went the cover story he’d been provided by Alpha Force.

He finally reached the front of the crowd after excusing himself and smiling and looking apologetic to lots of people along the way.

What did they all think of the slow influx of wolves around here?

Were any of them shapeshifters, too?

Ryan would find that out while he was here. Quickly. It was a major part of his assignment.

And if there were other shifters? Well, he’d determine, once he’d found and spoken with them, exactly what that might mean with respect to their lives here...and, potentially, to Alpha Force.

Right now, though, he moved over to give Piers and Rocky room to stand beside him. The woman was still talking, speaking with such excitement that it appeared contagious. Lots of folks in his area were cheering and clapping.

Which meant he’d better take time to listen.

“Wolves are such wonderful creatures,” she was saying—and that warmed his insides immediately. This close he could see how attractive she was, with a curvaceous body and a face pretty enough to put her onstage for something other than a wildlife proponent rally. “They’re smart, loyal to their packs, loving to their families and more. They’re—” She had been scanning the crowd with her gaze as she spoke, sometimes waving her slender arm beneath its black WHaM T-shirt up toward the screen behind her, where the pictures of wolves had now turned into a rotation. But now she stopped.

She was looking down toward Ryan, which gave him immediate pause—until he realized she was instead staring at Rocky.

“Is that a wolf among us?” she asked, this time looking right into Ryan’s eyes, or so it appeared from this distance.

He smiled and called out, “No, he’s my pet, a shepherd-husky mix for the most part, I think. But I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some wolf ancestry in there, too.”

“Me, neither,” she said. But cocking her head so her long, pale brown hair slipped to the side, she held the microphone back up to her mouth. “Okay, folks, you’ll need to see that adorable dog before you leave here this afternoon, especially if you’ve never seen a wolf before. But one thing I should mention is that wolves are wild animals and should stay that way.” She paused, and again stared right into Ryan’s face so intensely he felt as if she was almost touching him. Maybe slapping him. But she looked away again before she said, “Everyone, never, ever, try to turn a wild animal into a pet...especially wolves.”

* * *

Maya Everton wanted to jump right off that stage and confront that guy. No, what she really wanted was to meet that wolf-dog face-to-face, hug it, feel its soft fur.

And then let it loose, as wolves should be. Only she realized that, even if that canine had once been wild, as a pup or older, it could probably not survive in the wild now.

Maybe she could talk to his owner later, find out the dog’s background, so she could hopefully feel content that she was wrong, that this truly was a canine with dog genes that had never actually been a wild wolf.

“Okay,” she was saying despite her thoughts twisting in so many ways. “Has anyone here seen any of the wolves that have visited this area?”

A woman way toward the back of the generous crowd waved her hand. Maya was thrilled that so many people had shown up to see her, to hear her talk about WHaM and its excellent work keeping track of wild animal sightings—wolves and more. But the latest influx of wolves was a big deal here. Newsworthy, and they needed to be protected. WHaM maintained a comprehensive file on all the wolves sighted recently in this state—more in the eastern areas than here, though that might be changing. Her organization had been in close touch often with the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, and had a good relationship with them.

Like other wildlife, wolves weren’t appreciated in all areas of the state, especially those where some had apparently attacked local farm animals. But around here, they had a fresh start.

She called for the woman to come up to the microphone and describe her experience. While Maya waited for that lady to make her way through the crowd, she looked again toward that wolf-dog. Gorgeous.

His owner wasn’t bad-looking, either—as long as Maya could regard him without anger. Well, for now she’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

The woman soon joined Maya onstage. She introduced herself as Ivy. Ivy appeared in her fifties, with a lined face and a huge smile. “I live near here,” she said, “but a distance out of town. It was so amazing. I heard some howling in the dead of night and looked outside, only to see a couple of wolves jump over my fence, run through the yard and then out again. It was light enough under the full moon that it didn’t matter that I’d forgotten to turn on my porch lamps.”

“Really? That’s so exciting!” Maya really was impressed, wishing something similar had happened to her. She’d had to seek out every wild animal she’d seen herself without any miraculously appearing. “And did you let anyone know officially?” She thought she recalled a report on the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife site, or WDFW, that could have been a description of what had happened to this woman but she wasn’t sure.

“Absolutely. I researched online what to do and filed a report there with Washington’s fish and wildlife department. Only—”

She stopped, and her face seemed to age visibly.

“Only what?” Maya prodded gently.

“Only the one thing I forgot was to grab my camera.” Tears rose in her eyes.

Maya couldn’t let her leave the stage feeling bad, so she said, “But you took a picture in your own mind, I’ll bet. Will you ever forget what they looked like?”

“No, never.” The lady smiled, and Maya gave her a brief hug, encouraging her to rejoin the rest of the audience.

Her presentation was pretty much over—at least for this day. “Thank you all so much for coming,” Maya said. “And just remember some of the takeaways I suggested to you. First, you should all be proud, as Washington residents, that wolves are returning to your state and this area, and should continue to as long as you treat them well. And second—keep up with what we’re doing at WHaM in our tracking of wildlife and otherwise. Provide reports to us, too, and photos if you happen to take any. But be sure to report, as Ivy did, to the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, and maybe the federal fish and wildlife department, as well. And if you care to make a contribution to help us keep WHaM going, that would be more than welcome. Just visit our website that’s on our flyers. I’ve got a boxful right here on the stage.”

“There’s something else you should all remember,” yelled a voice from the audience. Maya’s gaze lit first on the guy with the wolf-dog but he was scowling in concern. He hadn’t been the speaker.

“What’s that?” she asked, feeling as if she was setting herself up for some kind of bad situation.

She proved to be right. A couple of men and a woman separated themselves from the middle of the crowd and made their way onto the stage beside her. She felt her brows go up and a slight smile make its way to her lips, even as she continued to figure this wasn’t likely to be anything good.

One of the men, maybe her age of late twenties, wore a plaid shirt and a huge, snide grin. He put his hand out for the microphone. Reluctantly, she handed it to him.

“You all know me,” the guy said to the audience. He turned back to Maya. “But you don’t. My name’s Carlo Silling. I’ve lived in Fritts Corner all my life. This is my town, and those wolves getting close aren’t a sign of wonderful things to come, no matter what you and your wham-bammers seem to think. You don’t live here. You’re not subject to the danger that wild wolves can present to people, as well as any livestock they raise. They’re just that—wild animals. And I’d suggest you leave this stage, leave this town and let us take care of our own bad luck.”

* * *

Ryan felt himself freeze with tension as his hands curled into fists at his sides.

He’d been staring at that guy Silling as he’d come onstage, as well as the others who’d accompanied him. The malicious, menacing way they regarded the naturalist whose name he’d learned was Maya Everton made him want to rub those expressions right off their faces.

“I agree with Carlo,” the woman yelled to the crowd. “I’m Vinnie Fritts—and this is my husband, Morton.” She nodded toward the man in a yellow shirt beside her. “You all know us and how long we’ve been around Fritts Corner—Morton’s family especially. Who needs wild animals here to hurt people and ruin our wonderful town’s reputation?”

Ryan stood then and, grabbing Rocky’s leash from Piers, maneuvered from the front of the crowd and onto the stage.

Time to express their cover story.

“You’re all certainly entitled to your opinion,” Maya was saying. She had somehow retrieved her microphone and was glaring at the three interlopers. “But the reality is that if you stay away from wildlife, particularly wolves, they’re likely to stay away from you, too. You do need to be careful on behalf of your pets, though, since they can often resemble prey. And—”

The guy Carlo reached out and grabbed the microphone again, even as Maya attempted to hold on to it. “Yeah? Well, what if that lady Ivy happened to be in her backyard that night she saw those wolves? Or—”

This time, Ryan was the one to grab the microphone, even as the other guy, Morton, started to stride toward him.

That was when Rocky growled—and the guy stopped.

“See what I’m saying?” Carlo yelled out to the crowd.

Ryan smiled as he spoke into the microphone, not pleased to see those who’d admitted to be with the media continuing to take pictures. Oh, well. His cover was solid. “This is my dog, Rocky,” he said, “who only resembles a wolf. He’s well trained in many ways, including my protection. Threaten me, and he threatens back. But look, everyone. The appearances of wolves in this area clearly started months ago, even longer. I’m unaware of any farms or dairies around here. Have any people been hurt?”

That wolves had been seen, per Ivy’s story, around a month ago under the light of a full moon, intrigued him—but he’d check more into that later.

Maya strode up to him. She was as tall as she had appeared from below, though she wasn’t close to his height of six-two. He’d noted the fear and dismay on her face as he’d gotten close to the stage, but now she’d recovered all her aplomb as well as a huge smile that she leveled on him. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “And thank you, pup.” She turned toward Rocky, standing beside Ryan, who nuzzled her hand and wagged his tail just like any well-trained, friendly dog.

“That’s his way of saying you’re welcome,” he told her unnecessarily, loud enough that the audience should be able to hear. He was gratified to hear a bit of laughter.

“So, as this gentleman asked,” Maya continued, “has anyone been hurt since the wolf sightings started?”

Apparently not, since no one responded in the affirmative even though the low roar of the crowd’s voices grew louder.

“Great. Anyway, please keep in mind what I said before. And thanks to all of you for coming.”

“You’re welcome,” shouted a female voice. “Thank you for coming. And I totally agree with you.”

“Me, too,” chorused other voices in the audience.

“That’s so wonderful,” Maya called back. “You’re totally in the right.”

“So are you, and WHaM,” yelled a skinny guy in the front row, doing a fist pump.

“Thanks,” Maya returned, smiling down at him for a second before turning away.

Ryan was amused that Maya ignored the others onstage as she approached the table where her computer equipment rested. He joined her there, Rocky at his side.

“I’m Ryan Blaiddinger, with the US Fish and Wildlife Service,” he told her. “Count me with those who liked your presentation. And I want to hear more.”

“That’s great, Ryan,” she said. “Glad to meet you. You can join us.” She once more picked up the microphone from the table and spoke into it. “Hey, everyone,” she called to the now-disbanding audience. “I just got an idea. Can anyone suggest a bar in town where we all can meet?”

A bunch of people spoke out once more, this time making suggestions. The decision was to go to Berry’s Bar, a nearby establishment that sounded fairly large and accommodating.

“See you there?” Maya said, turning back to Ryan.

“You can bet on it. In fact, Rocky and I would enjoy walking there with you now.”

“Of course, though I need to drop some of my things off at my car. I want to learn more about your wonderful wolf-dog.” Her tone had turned soft and loving as she gazed down at Rocky—making Ryan wish for a moment that she’d been speaking about him instead. Which was ridiculous. She was a potential information resource for him, and that was all. And of course Rocky was one special dog.

“Good. Ready to go now?” Ryan glanced toward Piers, who stood near them. His assistant nodded briefly. He was ready to go—and to have Ryan’s back, if needed. Maybe Maya’s, too, since for now, at least, their goals seemed aligned.

“Just a minute while I gather up my stuff and turn this area back to the park personnel,” Maya told him. “Then I can join you.”

The idea of her joining him for any reason sounded much too good.

He was going to have to be careful in this lovely wildlife lover’s presence.