Northern Exposure by Debra Lee Brown Read Free Book Online

who’d initiated a wild night of kinky sex and drugs resulting in the death of a male fashion model would have to find herself another assignment.
    Preferably as far away from him as possible.
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    â€œYou don’t say?” Barb slowed the green Department of Fish and Game pickup into the turnoff from the highway onto the spur road where Wendy had left her rental car.
    â€œYeah. The issue goes to press in three weeks. I’ve got to get those photos.”
    She rummaged around in her knapsack, searching for her sunglasses. She pulled them out, along with an envelope crafted of high-quality stationery on which she’d scribbled some phone numbers. She’d been carrying the envelope around in her camera bag for the past ten days, ever since it had shown up in her parents’ mailbox.
    The letter inside had been from Blake. When Wendy realized it, she’d kept the envelope with the phone numbers, and tossed the letter, unread, into her parents’ recycling bin—which was exactly where it belonged.
    â€œJoe’s not gonna like it,” Barb said, jolting her back to the present. “You going in there on your own.”
    Wendy stuffed the envelope back in her bag, and made a huffy sound. “It’s none of his business.”
    â€œDon’t try telling him that. Joe Peterson thinks everything that goes on within a hundred miles of him is his business, and he wants it run his way.”
    â€œTell me about it.” Wendy smiled at her, and they both laughed.
    Barb Maguire, a sturdily built woman in her early thirties with springy black ringlets framing a cherub-like face, was a breath of fresh air after spending the past fifteen hours with Warden Bug-up-His-Butt. Although, Wendy had to admit, it was a pretty nice butt.
    â€œSeriously, if you’re planning on hiking into the east side of the reserve, you’d best be prepared for bears and bad weather.”
    â€œI’m no amateur, despite appearances.” And despite the fact that it had been years since she’d done any camping or hiking. But she didn’t mention that fact to Barb. “I’ve got a carload of backpacking gear I know how to use and some emergency flares in case I get into trouble.”
    Barb glanced speculatively at her half-empty knapsack.
    â€œThis is just my camera bag. I had no idea I was going to be out for more than a quick stretch of the legs yesterday. I spotted that caribou, and when he took off, I had to follow. There wasn’t time to go back to the car to get my gear.”
    â€œYeah,” Barb said, “those rogue bulls are just like men, aren’t they? Let ’em out of your sight for a minute and they’re history.”
    Wendy laughed. “Speaking of history…and rogue bulls…” She looked pointedly at Barb.
    â€œAhh, so I was right about you two. Good. It’s about time he started living again.”
    Wendy shook her head. “No, you were wrong, but I’m still curious. What’s his story?”
    â€œJoe?” Barb sucked in a breath and readjusted her hands on the steering wheel. Shaking her head, shesaid, “He just can’t seem to get over it. Cat’s death, I mean.”
    So that was her name. Cat Peterson. It fit her. “She was a beautiful woman.”
    â€œYou saw the picture.”
    Wendy nodded.
    â€œShe was just a kid, really. Twenty-two. Nine years younger than Joe when she died.”
    Wendy wanted to know more, but didn’t want to seem as interested as she obviously was. The question was why was she so interested? Men like Joe Peterson were bad news. The last thing she needed was another warden in her life. Blake had given an award-winning performance in that role for the past seven years.
    â€œJoe lived for Cat,” Barb said. “When she died, he just retreated. Took that job up in the reserve, closed himself off from everyone and everything.”
    â€œI didn’t know the