Page 40 of Wild Wolf
“Hello?”
“Sherry, this is Deputy Wild. We have another situation.”
“Oh, no.”
I gave her the scoop. “Are you sure all of the big cats have been accounted for?”
She hesitated for a moment. “I’m going to need to get back to you on that.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, incredulous.
“Corporate has advised me not to talk to anyone without an attorney.”
“Sherry! A woman died tonight. This is a matter of public safety. I know everyone is in damage control mode, but I need to know what’s going on.”
She was silent for a long moment. “I need some kind of immunity.”
21
The state’s attorney agreed to give Sherry immunity in exchange for her cooperation. She met us at the station, and we interviewed her in the interrogation room. Sherry was mid-40s with short, wavy blonde hair with strands of gray, a round face, and a pear-shaped figure. She had soft, pastel blue eyes that were a little puffy from the stress and lack of sleep. The last few days had been chaos for her.
"Tell me what's going on," I said.
"We recently received a melanistic leopard. A black panther. It was recovered from a private owner who possessed animals illegally. It was malnourished and abused. We put it into a separate quarantine facility as per protocol. It had just come in that morning. It hadn’t made it onto the official register yet. When those eco-terrorists attacked the zoo and released all the animals, the animal wasn't on the official manifest. In the chaos, it got overlooked," she said with a cringe. "We thought all the animals were accounted for, then realized the panther was outstanding. In an effort to avoidpublic panic, we thought we could recover the animal quietly. We have crews actively looking for the panther as we speak.”
A frustrated sigh escaped my mouth. "Who knew about this?”
"Upper management. The handlers of the big cats. Granted, recovery is not their responsibility. They were told everything was being handled according to protocol. We've all been instructed not to have any discussions with the media. As you can imagine, this does not look good for the zoo.”
"There are a lot of people that might face criminal charges," I said. "You did the right thing by coming forward.”
"I might not have a job after this.”
"At least you won't be in jail.”
We asked a few more questions, then joined Sheriff Daniels in the hallway.
“I’ve got every patrol unit in the county looking for that panther,” he said. “And I want those punks responsible behind bars.”
So far, we hadn’t drummed up any leads on the eco-terrorists, but we hadn’t had much time to investigate. Denise had been searching activist groups and scanning online forums, looking for anybody bragging about it.
We left the station and headed back to theAvventura. I took Buddy out for a walk and called it a relatively early evening.
In the morning, I pulled myself out of bed at the break of dawn. I'd had a restless sleep. The gruesome image ofMcKinsey shredded on the beach filled my mind with bizarre dreams of werewolves.
I showered, dressed, and made my way down the galley to fix breakfast. It wasn't long before bacon sizzled in a pan. I grilled omelettes, hash browns, and toast. The smell of hot coffee swirled.
I watched the morning news as I went through my routine. I shouldn't have been surprised by what I saw, but it did catch me off guard.
Paris Delaney had a sit-down interview with Jordan Raine in his Palm Haven home. "I talked to Tommy Cartwright last night. He swears up and down he saw a werewolf attack my wife. I believe him. He's got no reason to lie or tell stories.”
"Do you really believe that's what we're dealing with?" Paris asked.
"At this point, I believe anything is possible. This is the second person that has been killed, and I think it's time we start taking this seriously. Call it a werewolf, call it whatever you want—we're dealing with something unknown. It needs to be addressed before more innocent people are victimized. As such, I'm putting out a $10,000 reward for anyone who captures or kills the beast.”
"What if we’re dealing with some type of endangered species?”
Jordan scoffed. "I don't care if it's the last one of its kind. I want its head on a platter. It killed my wife.”
