Loyal Wolf. Linda Johnston O.

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      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       About the Author

       Title Page

       Dedication

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Chapter Twenty-Three

       Chapter Twenty-Four

       Extract

       Copyright

       Chapter 1

      Deputy Sheriff Kathlene Baylor steered down the narrow, tree-lined lane toward the entrance to Clifford Cabins, a rustic motel a few miles out of town. She was driving her personal car, a silver SUV, rather than an official Clifford County, Montana, Sheriff’s Department vehicle, despite being in uniform. It was late afternoon, and she was off duty. If she’d had time to go home and change, she would have.

      But she was too eager for the pending meeting to incur any further delay.

      This outing was definitely not an official activity, though. In fact, it was just the opposite. Even though it should look, to anyone who might be paying attention to her, as if she was just dashing off to go meet up with an old friend.

      Not quite.

      Kathlene always considered herself a by-the-book, dedicated law-enforcement officer. But that was before.

      Now she was too concerned about what was going on in Clifford County to do nothing, even though her boss, Sheriff Melton Frawley, was certain that she was wrong. That she was “worrying her pretty little head about nothing,” was the way he put it.

      She sniffed at the very thought of the way the whole department was encouraged by Melton to return to old, antiquated ways, when women weren’t skilled and respected officers of the law, but handy cooks and cleaners who also entertained their men in bed.

      She would have complained, claimed discrimination to the County Counsel, the City Attorney of Cliffordsville, or anyone else who would listen. Problem was, no one with any clout cared.

      Well, maybe she had no clout, but she wasn’t about to just sit there and let her county be overrun by anarchists.

      She slowed down when she saw a small deer darting through the underbrush toward the road. Good move, she thought as the animal stopped, then leaped back into the woods. She wasn’t a hunter but there were a lot of them around. Some legitimate.

      The others were the ones who worried her.

      At least their encampment was a few more miles down this road. And that deer—plus, much more important, the humans around here—might survive if what she believed was true, and the people she was going to see helped her do something about it.

      There. She had reached the sign identifying the winding drive to the Clifford Cabins. She turned and headed toward them.

      She’d СКАЧАТЬ