Loyal Wolf (18 page)

But maybe she could find a way to get someone else who wasn't so eager to take sides to go there—Tommy X, maybe?

“It'll start around 10:00 a.m.,” Myra said. “And—” Her sip of coffee seemed as much to give her time to think as it was to give her a caffeine lift.

“And?” Kathlene prompted.

“And I'm damned scared,” Myra practically exploded. “Things around here are definitely not normal. I...I had a visitor last night at my home, at around nine-thirty at night. Or it may have been more than one person. I don't know. But someone unscrewed the bulb from the light on my porch. That could have been done earlier, I suppose. In any event, I didn't notice until the doorbell rang and I looked out the view hole in my door. I didn't see anyone, so I opened it. And...well, no one was there. But this was.”

She bent down to where she had placed her small black leather handbag on the floor and pulled out a piece of paper. It had printing on it and looked as if it could have come from any generic computer.

Kathlene reached for it carefully, touching only the edges so she wouldn't smear any fingerprints. But she had a feeling that whoever might have done this knew how to avoid being identified.

The paper had large letters on it in a font that was not unusual.

Those letters said WE KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE.

Because she knew Jock was listening, she read it out loud. And then she said to Myra, “This isn't a threat in itself, but the time and way it was delivered...well, I'm glad you contacted me. Let me take this and have it checked for prints.”

There had been threats before, of course, but not specific and not aimed directly at any individual commissioner.

This was different. And even more disquieting.

As Kathlene had figured, Myra also said, “Okay, but I'll bet you don't find any. Or the computer this was printed on, or anything about the person who came to my house.”

That was probably true. But the situation—and the time—certainly made Kathlene even more suspicious.

The vehicle that had driven down the main road near the cabins and ranch last night had arrived there not long after 9:30 p.m. with its lights out, indicating whoever was inside did not want to be recognized.

“That may be,” Kathlene said slowly, “but I'll have it looked at, anyway.”

“And that's not all,” Myra said.

Kathlene's insides were already churning. Whatever was going on with those self-proclaimed sportsmen was polarizing, and damaging, the town she had come to love. Not to mention at least one person that she cared about: Myra.

“What else is there?” She made certain that her voice was strong, not only for Jock but for herself, too. If there was something worse, she might hate to hear it, but she needed to know.

“I was scared enough last night that I called not only Tommy X but also some of my colleagues on the commission—those allied with me on the wildlife protection and gun-control issues. Wendy Ingerton, for one. She told me the same thing had happened to her. I let Tommy X know that, too.”

That was a good thing. Even if Sheriff Frawley wouldn't want to hear Kathlene's concerns, Tommy X remained on the sheriff's good side despite his relationship with Myra. Or at least he had till now.

“So where do things stand now?” Kathlene asked.

“I told Tommy X to protect Wendy. He didn't like it, but I told him I was coming here.”

“Good. You can stay with me till the meeting.” Kathlene would have to figure out a way to sneak Jock out, but he'd understand.

“No. I'm going home to get ready for the meeting. I'm nervous, of course, and I wanted to let someone else know what was going on. If something happens to me...”

“Stay with me,” Kathlene said again. “We don't know who threatened you or, really, why.”

“I think the
why
is fairly clear. The
who
...well, I've got some ideas, don't you?” Myra took a long swig of coffee, then stood. “I'd like for you to come to the meeting.”

“I will, but I won't be on duty.”

“Your position is clearer than most, so just having you there, a deputy sheriff not aligned with those terrorists—”

“But I am just that—a deputy. I don't have much authority, and—”

“But you do have integrity. I'll feel better having you there. I'd imagine that Wendy will, too. And we'll all be happy that Tommy X will also attend. I don't want this meeting to be a showdown, but that could happen. And I intend to vote my conscience—again.”

“Okay, I'll be there, officially or not.” Kathlene enunciated carefully and raised her voice a little. She suspected she'd get an argument from Jock, but so be it.

Whatever happened at the meeting might help—or hinder—the outcome of his determining what the
sportsmen
were up to, as well as preventing them from harming anyone.

She hoped.

Chapter 18

J
ock had taken a seat on top of the closed toilet lid. With the keenness of his hearing, he didn't need to remain at the door to hear the ongoing conversation. He'd already checked out the size of the bathroom window along the wall beside him. It would be tight, but if necessary he could fit through it. Yet even though this was the first floor the window was high, and it would be a problem to reach the ground without injury, especially in human form.

Plus, if he tried it, he'd have to be careful not to be seen by anyone in the nearest house, of similar structure to Kathlene's, not far beyond the wooden fence separating the yards. No, it would be better not to leave via the window.

He wondered if, despite Myra's initial refusal, Kathlene would insist that Myra hang out here at her house until the commission meeting was scheduled to begin. Since she'd been threatened, it would be a good idea for Myra to remain in the company of a friendly law-enforcement officer.

But if she stayed here, he'd have to leave the bathroom, and he wasn't quite sure how to finesse his presence there—especially since it was so vital that he continue to develop his alliance with the sportsmen's group.

Under these circumstances, they might expect him to do something to the commissioner, or at least let them know she was here. That was presuming that whoever had threatened her was one of the group at the ranch.

The most obvious possibilities were those guys who had shown up late yesterday, the ones Kathlene had indicated were trying to hide their presence on the roads. Had they just come from leaving the threats at Myra's and other commissioners who maintained positions against the sportsmen's? And what about the hints they'd given regarding weapons in their car? He'd have to figure out a way to ask without making it sound accusatory, just interested.

In any event, he couldn't just stay in the bathroom. If nothing else, Myra might eventually want to use the facilities and come this way. Kathlene's only other bathroom was upstairs.

More important, inaction was not in his vocabulary. He had to do something that went with his undercover role—without, of course, embarrassing Kathlene about how she'd spent her night and who she'd spent it with.

He decided it was finally time for him to magically appear at Kathlene's doorstep, too. Even though this old friend of hers was now supposedly at odds with her about something going on in her town, they'd still see each other while he was here.

His decision was underscored even before he acted when Kathlene began to push Myra the way he'd anticipated.

“Myra, please. You really should stay here with me till you're ready to head to the meeting,” she insisted.

Jock waited for the commissioner's concurrence, even if it was reluctant. She was wise enough to come here in the first place, so she'd clearly also be smart in this—having somewhere safe to hang out till she had to put herself in front of the county's citizens and visitors once more. Then, no matter which side they might be on personally, the sheriff's department officers on duty would have to protect everyone including the commissioners, at least during the meeting.

He was surprised, therefore, when Myra responded, “No. Really. I'll be okay. But I need to go home now, not only to change clothes but to go over my notes and computer files so I'll be fully prepared to counter any negative arguments at the meeting.”

Jock was not surprised at Kathlene's response, but he wasn't happy about it. In fact, he was downright angry. “Then I'll come with you to make sure you're okay,” she said.

Didn't the woman ever avoid putting herself into dangerous situations?

Hell, he knew the answer to that.

He also knew that he, too, would be heading to Myra Enager's home.

* * *

Kathlene checked the street to ensure that there were no strangers, no occupied cars, no other apparent dangers. Then she saw Myra out the door and into her car.

She hadn't spoken to Jock yet but felt certain he knew what she was doing. Myra and she hadn't been whispering—not that the sound level would likely make much difference to Jock.

She also figured he wasn't pleased about it. Right now Kathlene rode in the passenger's seat of Myra's hybrid car. For the moment she believed she was doing everything possible to keep her friend safe.

Jock would undoubtedly have a different opinion about the safety of what she was doing.

To be fair, she should give him the opportunity to bawl her out. Not that it would make any difference.

She told Myra she needed to make a phone call.

“Sure thing,” Myra said. “I'd hold my ears if I didn't need my hands to drive.”

Kathlene gave the laugh she figured was expected, then pushed numbers on her phone. “Hi, Jock,” she said perkily when he answered.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Yes, it's me,” she responded as if he had said something friendly rather than argumentative. Myra should only be able to hear her end of the call. “I'm going to a friend's house now, since it's my day off work, and then I'll go watch the county commissioners' meeting. Maybe we could hook up there. Are you free for lunch?”

“I'm free to wring your neck,” he muttered.

“Oh, I know you'd never do that. But I have a feeling that the meeting's going to be a bit wild. Even though I'm not on duty, maybe I can help out if there's any disturbance. You could watch me in action. Of course you have before, but it'll give you even more reason to understand why I became a deputy sheriff.” She glanced over at Myra. “People don't always wind up doing what it looks like they're headed for in school, do they? My buddy Jock probably thought I'd go into journalism, since that was my field of study.” It actually had been—until her parents had been killed....

“Did you figure he'd wind up doing what he did?”

“You mean insurance?” She talked back into the phone. “How about you, Jock? Did you think, in school, that you'd wind up where you are now?”

“Actually, not exactly. But—”

“So there. Anyway, we'll talk later.” She pressed the button to hang up. She didn't really want to hear any more of his criticism. She might not be able to avoid it later, but for now she'd do as she wanted.

Help her friend.

And her town.

* * *

He followed them, of course. As unobtrusively as possible.

She should have at least allowed him to enter and check out the nice, huge house that was apparently Myra's, since they pulled up the driveway and into the garage. For now he remained in his car, listening for any disturbance. Presumably, Kathlene had brought her service weapon with her, just in case.

She didn't call out, didn't call him, and nothing sounded strange.

Consequently, he hung out for only a few more minutes. Then he knew where he had to go.

He called Ralf on the way. “I'd like for Click and you to go observe the street where Kathlene has gone to protect her friend on the county commission.”

“Yes, sir,” Ralf said.

“At ease, Sergeant.” Jock couldn't help smiling, if only a little.

“Where are you off to?”

“I'm about to visit my newest best friends again. I have a feeling that, after the warnings handed out last night, this county commissioners' meeting might be the ignition for whatever they have in mind—unless, of course, everything turns around and the vote goes exactly as they want.”

“Even then,” Ralf began.

“Yeah, even then. I saw their attitude last night, and I don't think these guys are going to suddenly settle down and become nice, calm, law-abiding hunters and all-around citizens.”

“Me, neither. You...you want to shift?”

“I will, but not now. Besides, I want Click to hang out with you for now, and you know what a bad idea having another dog around that looks like him, during daylight and with everything else going on, would be.”

“Got it.” Ralf paused. “Keep in touch, Jock.”

Jock grinned. “Yes, sir.”

* * *

As Jock had anticipated, the sportsmen weren't just sitting around drinking beer—or even, at this hour of the morning, coffee. He had no problem checking in with the guy at the gate, and when he parked and headed toward the ranch house he saw a lot of them around talking. They weren't even at the shooting range engaged in target practice.

What were they up to?

He was one of them now...kind of. He could just ask what was going on.

He saw tall Hal with the receding hairline almost immediately. The guy was decked out in a hunting jacket, as were most of the men around the house and parking area.

Jock approached and asked, “What's going on?”

“There's another of those damned public county commissioners' meetings today. Better than their private ones, but they're still trying to tell us what to do, and since it didn't work last time they're going at it again. We're heading there to...make a statement.”

“Good idea,” Jock said. “I'll come, too.” He pretended to hesitate. “But what'll we do if the same damned thing happens and they enact more laws about our hunting the wildlife that was put on this earth for men to shoot and kill?” He hated even to say stuff like that, but it was necessary here for the role he was playing.

Hal smiled. It was the kind of smile that made Jock's skin crawl. “Oh, we've got some plans to take care of it.”

“What kind of plans?” Jock pasted an eager grin on his face. “I want in.”

“Good. We'll need all of our followers to get involved. But we're just in the planning stage right now. You'll be filled in at the appropriate time.”

“Soon?” Jock asked.

“Yeah, real soon.”

Jock stood there for a few minutes. The crowd seemed to ebb and flow, with men joining one group, and then some moved on to form another. With all the people, all the activity, Jock figured everyone would be too preoccupied to pay much attention to him. A good thing.

He began walking around the ranch, moving with the crowds as if he was part of them.

He grinned as he saw men massing together and working each other up into an angry frenzy. Who dared to tell them what to do? He was with them, shared their mind-set. Or so he pretended.

He walked among them and between the buildings as if attempting to meet and support them all. How many were there? Dozens, yes. A hundred, maybe?

And finally, as most began moving toward the front of the property to prepare to go to the commissioners' meeting, he found his opportunity. He headed carefully, by himself, toward the shooting range.

There were a few remote buildings near the outdoor range area that intrigued him. Was that where the weapons brought by the guys who'd driven that SUV in the dark were stored? Were there more than what they had brought?

And were they regular hunting rifles, or something more?

Plus, where did they keep the C-4 explosives that he'd smelled?

For now it made sense to explore this property in human form. A canine would be way out of place. But an undercover military man worked out just fine...he hoped. And he'd been close enough to the main ranch building itself to pretty much rule it out as a storage area—no concentrated scent of gunpowder or anything else close by, although he could smell some near the sportsmen themselves when they were armed.

He kept his pace easy, as if he had nothing on his mind except perhaps finding a bathroom. Too bad it was morning, though. The cover of darkness would be preferable. At least the back of the property, near the shooting range, hadn't been cleared of all trees, so there was some cover available.

The double door to the first black metal shed Jock came to closest to the shooting range was open. That suggested all the sportsmen were welcome there. It wasn't what he was looking for. Nor was there any scent of interest.

He stopped and listened. Lots of voices were audible to his enhanced senses—near the front of the place. A pep rally of sorts was going on now.

That didn't mean he was alone here, though. He stopped and focused his enhanced senses. Without moving his head, he sniffed the air for any scents of people nearby but smelled none. He listened but heard no one around.

Even so, he would remain cautious.

He moved onward as if he hadn't a concern in the world, just a curious man checking out a place he'd hardly visited before. And of course he was interested in the shooting range and practicing there someday.

The next shed he reached was open, too. But there was also what appeared to be the ranch's old stable a short distance away, large and decrepit and hidden among tall bushes and trees, as if it had been allowed to fall into disrepair. And yet when he made his way there, its most visible doors that faced the interior area of the ranch were locked.

That made him all the more determined to get inside. This could be what he was looking for.

He edged his way around to the back and found another door, a single, sliding one. Carefully, he tried it...and it moved. Did that mean the stable contained nothing of interest, too? He believed he should check this one out—partly because of the sharper smells he sensed. Different kinds of gunpowder? He ducked inside and closed the door behind him.

No horses. Not now. But several of the stalls were filled with boxes. It was also dark inside. All windows had been boarded up, which was a good thing. He couldn't be seen.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on its light, shielding it to ensure that it remained dim as he checked the place out.

The closest boxes had rifles in them. Regular hunting rifles, the kinds that real sportsmen might use. Which frustrated Jock. He knew these guys weren't real sportsmen, but he needed proof.

A short while later, he found himself grinning as he checked through other boxes at the bottom of the piles of crates where the regular rifles were stored.