[prompted by this
Her father hadn't wanted her to become a Mountie. She was his little girl, and he knew that Mounties sometimes died in the line of duty. He didn't want to lose her like he lost her mother. He had her live with her grandparents, hoping that living with a couple of librarians might get the idea out of her head.
Unfortunately, that plan failed.
It's not that he wasn't proud of her. Quite the contrary. Seeing her in that bright red uniform, hat on straight, filled his heart with so much pride. It's just that it also filled his heart with fear and dread. He had a feeling that someday soon they would be parted by not just two thousand miles, but by death.
He didn't realize he would be the one dying.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes. Constable Iris Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I'm looking for the officer in charge of this case..."
[Because I cannot not
imagine Iris saying "Thank you kindly." She totally
would. Her wolf would be named Artemis, after the Greek goddess of the moon. And along with Inuit stories, she would tell stories of the Greeks (as a child, she found that section of the library quite fascinating.)]