If they don’t, it’s a temporary mess and we hope they don’t screw up the migratory herds too much, and don’t spill anything into the water that’ll screw with the salmon. If they do, it’s a permanent mess, requiring long-term remedial work. Who better to deal with either of these scenarios than the guy who’s been on the ground for the last twenty years? The guy we know, and who knows us? Who actually listens to us when we tell him we need to cut back on escapement in the Kanuyaq because too many salmon are getting past the dip netters and it’s messing with the spawning beds?”

He smiled, a slight expression, one that didn’t stick around for long. “You’re very eloquent.”

Kate dunked a cookie in her coffee. “Thanks.”

“What do you want me to do?”

She swallowed. “You host a lot of VTPs here, John, people with power, people with influence. As I recollect, the governor’s been here a time or two. So have both senators and our lone representative. Not to mention half the legislature, and past governors going back to territorial days. Call them and ask them to put in a good word for Dan.”

He didn’t say anything. He was very good at it.

Kate wanted a commitment. “It’s in your best interest to do so, John.”

“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not.”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Why wouldn’t it be?” She searched her mind for any Park legends involving a confrontation between the chief ranger and its biggest guiding outfit, and came up zip.

“It’s personal,” he said, dumbfounding her. He got to his feet. “That all you wanted? Because I was about to go out when you drove up.”

She set down her mug, still half-full, and her cookie, only half-eaten, and got up. “Sure. Thanks for listening. You’ll think about it?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Personal? she thought as she drove away. John Letourneau had something “personal” going on with Dan O’Brian?

She was pretty sure the earth had just shifted beneath her feet.