He started walking away.

"Joey."

He stopped, shoulders tightening. "It's Joseph."

"I'm sorry." I walked up behind him. "Joseph. About your father. I really wanted Clay to tell you, but we went to his cabin last night. We found him." I paused. "He's dead."

His head slumped forward. I stayed where I was, behind him, respectfully out of sight.

"Was it them?" he asked, turning toward me. "Those werewolves?"

I nodded.

His gaze moved to mine. "And you wonder why I don't want anything to do with this life? Because this is where it gets you. No matter how nice you are. No matter how hard you work to avoid trouble. This is your end. Murdered by mutts. Buried in the woods." He paused, glancing away. "I take it that's what you did. Pack protocol and all." The words carried a bitter twist.

"Yes. We had to."

"Exactly my point. A short, brutal life ending in an unmarked grave."

I waited a moment, then said carefully, "Your father seemed to be researching something."

"Oh, my father and his damned research. There was a time when we were on the same page, wanted the same thing-to be left alone. Then I decided that wasn't enough. But just when I'm backing out of the life, he's diving into it. Gets that cabin. Decides to rediscover his inner wolf. A damned midlife crisis."

"Do you know what he was-?"

"I know nothing about my father's life in the last couple of years. I didn't care to. Now, please tell Clay I'm sorry, but I don't wish to see him, and I would appreciate it if you'd both leave Alaska as soon as possible."

He started walking away quickly.

"Joseph, please. We just want-"

He disappeared into the building.

I waited, hoping he'd come back out. When he didn't, I made it to the corner before a familiar sensation washed over me. I didn't turn, just waited for Clay to fall in step beside me.

"Didn't go as well as you hoped, huh?" he said.

"No."

We crossed the street.

"Thanks," he said. "For trying to get him to see me."

We walked half a block before I asked. "So how's the research going?"

"Do you really think I'd go back to the room and read? While you're walking around with three killer mutts on the loose?"

"It was, I believe, an order."

"Not exactly. More of a firm suggestion. You need to work on your wording,"

I shook my head. "So how much did you hear?"

"Most of it."

"I guess your friend has changed."

"Some. But of all of us, Joey was always the least into the wolf stuff. It doesn't surprise me that he's gone this way. I don't understand it, but it doesn't surprise me."

We walked another block in silence.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get him to talk to you. I really-"

"-tried, I know. You went back because you knew I was looking forward to seeing him again. I appreciate that. I really do."

"I wanted the news to come from you, but I couldn't walk away and not warn him, about the mutts and about his father."

"And that's all we can do. Warn him. Then leave him alone."

AS WE WALKED back to the hotel, I made two calls, the first to Lynn Nygard, the "paranormal enthusiast." She still wasn't home. I'd try again this evening. Thinking about that interview made me realize there might be an easy way to get it. So I placed the second call.

"Hope Adams," a young woman's voice answered. "True News."

"Hey, Hope. It's Elena. How are you doing?"

Clay rolled his eyes as I launched into small talk. He would have gotten straight to the point. I asked Hope what she was working on and told her what we were doing, and while part of that was civility, most was genuine interest.

I've never been what you'd call a social butterfly, but there had been a period in my life, after Clay bit me, when I didn't have any female friends. Even during the stretches when I wasn't living at Stonehaven, I couldn't seem to get past the acquaintance stage with other women. I felt too different. When the werewolves rejoined the supernatural world, I started to fill that void, first with Paige, then with Jaime and Hope. And while I'd never be one to chat on the phone for hours or set up shopping weekends in New York, it was nice having other women to talk to.

I liked Hope. In her I saw determination and a need for self-reliance undermined by shaky self-confidence, and I could relate to that. I'd been the same way at her age and some days I don't think I've come far since.

I'd met Hope through Karl Marsten. Their friendship moved to romance a couple of years ago. I'm still not sure how I feel about that. I worry that Hope will get hurt, but Karl seems committed enough… as committed as a werewolf jewel thief mutt-turned-reluctant-Pack-member can get.

"Anyway," I said. "I called to warn you that I'm now your assistant."

"Cool. I've been telling my editor for years I need one. When can I start forwarding all my alien abduction mail to you?"

"Whenever you want Logan and Kate to start answering it."

She laughed. "Actually, that's an idea. Reply in crayon scrawl and they'll spend weeks deciphering the coded message from E.T… weeks during which they won't pester True News's beleaguered Weird Tales girl. So what's this assistant business about? You need a cover?"

"Exactly." I explained about Lynn Nygard. "I thought I'd buy myself some street cred by saying I work with you. I'll say I'm on vacation, not officially following a story."

"But intrigued by her theory, you're checking it out, with the unspoken hint that maybe, just maybe, she'll make it into our hallowed pages. Sure, go for it. Not like anyone here will deny it. When your job is investigating the paranormal, no one questions a phantom assistant, as long as they don't need to pay her salary."

"Speaking of paranormal… " I told her about our encounter with the mystery beast. "And no, I don't really think it was Bigfoot or a yeti or the Abominable Snowman, but if you have a spare moment to check your files, see if there are any reports on strange encounters in Alaska, I'd appreciate it."

"Consider it done."