Jo looked from one to the other and rolled her eyes. “Young love. Gag me.”

“We eating in or out tonight?” Liam said.

Wy finished off her glass and stood up. “In. I got a take-out lasagna and Jo tossed a salad.”

Did you check it for wolfsbane? Liam wanted to say, but didn’t.

“Look!” Jo said, pointing.

A moose cow and calf had wandered into the yard, stripping fireweed stalks of their flowers. They moseyed around the perimeter of the yard and vanished into the trees.

“It always amazes me how they disappear like that,” Jo said.

“I know, right? They’re so big.”

Wy handed Liam a big wooden bowl full of green. “Table’s set and the lasagna is ready to come out of the oven.”

“Great, I’m starved. I had the world’s most uninspired burger for lunch.”

They sat down at the dining room table and dished out. “What brings you to Blewestown, Jo?” Liam said.

“I’m on vacation,” Jo said blandly, and in spite of himself Liam laughed out loud.

Jo, amazingly, laughed, too. “Yeah, all right. I assume you saw the big rig parked up the Bay when you came into town.”

“It was hard to miss,” Liam said dryly.

“On lease to RPetCo. They want to do some exploratory drilling.”

“In the actual Bay?”

She nodded. “There’s oil and gas being produced in commercial quantities up and down the Inlet. Chungasqak Bay is the next geographical step, and it’s a hell of a lot more accessible than, say, the Kamishak. Easier to supply, too, with Blewestown right here and on the road. They’ve got a deepwater dock, too.”

“All the mod cons.” The lasagna wasn’t bad. He dished up a second slice. “I’d have to guess there are one or two people unhappy at the prospect.”

Jo snorted. “Good guess. Most of the tourism businesses in town and all the fishermen, just for starters. The Chamber of Commerce, run by a guy named Donohoe, is giddy at the prospect of overseeing the next Prudhoe Bay, but he has to keep it on the down low as half of the chamber members are fishermen and they all talk like they’re watching Deepwater Horizon on repeat. About a dozen small cruise ships a year dock here and their industry rep doesn’t sound thrilled, either, but is otherwise making no move.”

“Where is the local Native association on the issue?”

“There are a bunch of them, about one per community. One, the Kapilat Native Association, invested in bandwidth back in the day so they’ve got a lot of money and therefore the loudest voice. Generally speaking the others follow their lead. They haven’t stated their position on oil exploration and development on the Bay, but I’m trying to get an interview with their chief, Alexei Petroff. So far I’ve only talked with him on the phone. He sounds pretty savvy but he doesn’t want to go on the record unless it’s face to face.”

Wise man, Liam thought. Petroff would get the biggest bang for his association’s buck by announcing their stand in the state’s paper of record. He wondered if Petroff was any relation to She Who Must Be Obeyed in his front office.