Chapter 21
"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 avoid public 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 the Avventura. 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 of McKinsey 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.”
"Thank you for your time," Paris said in a compassionate tone. She looked into the lens and said, "And you heard it here first. A $10,000 reward for whoever captures or kills the werewolf. We will keep you updated on this story as it develops.“
My first call was to Paris. She picked up after a few rings. "Hey, I was just thinking about you."
"What are you doing?"
"We just wrapped up the live shot at Jordan's house. Now I’m heading back to the station.”
"Why are you broadcasting that nonsense?”
"Because it's news.”
"It's going to have every asshole in the state chasing that thing.”
"Is there anything illegal about his ransom offer?”
"Not on its face. But if somebody discharges a firearm within the city limits, that's a problem. What happens if one of these assholes kills somebody or shoots that panther?”
Paris said nothing.
"Are you still at his house?”
“Yes, the crew is packing up.”
"I want to talk to him. Put him on.”
Commotion filled the speaker as Paris handed the device to Jordan.
"Hello?”
"Jordan, it's Deputy Wild. I need you to retract that reward.”
"Hell no!”
"I don't think you realize the legal liability you're opening yourself up to.”
"I don't care. I want the thing that killed my wife. I want it dead.”
"If your offer leads to incitement, or God forbid an accident, you could be held civilly and criminally liable. You could face murder charges if someone gets killed. This little stunt is ill-advised.”
"Well, if you guys would do your job, I wouldn’t have to offer a reward.”
He handed the phone back to Paris, done speaking about it.
"Are you there?" Paris said when she returned.
"Do yourself a favor and announce that any hunting of a werewolf inside the city limits is illegal and will result in criminal charges."
"I will make sure to put that out in the next segment.”
“Please advise against this. In a couple of days, this place is going to be crawling with nut jobs.”
Paris couldn't quite suppress her glee. "Looks like we're in for a busy news cycle. But I promise I won’t encourage this. I’ll put out a warning."
“Thank you,” I replied.
I rousted Jack out of bed, and we ate breakfast on the sky deck. Amber rays cascaded across the marina, and a gentle breeze drifted across the deck. Boats swayed in slips. It was a calm morning, but it wouldn't last long.
I checked the weather on my tablet. The hurricane was still headed south of Cuba. I saw no need to move the boat.
After we filled our bellies, I took Buddy out for a quick walk. Then we stopped by the zoo to talk to the staff. Word had obviously come down from management not to talk to anyone. None of the keepers were willing to talk.
We bumped into a veterinarian outside of the tiger cage, doing rounds.
“Excuse me,” I said, flashing my badge. “I’m hoping you can help. I just have a few questions.”
She looked at the badge, and her azure eyes darted between the two of us.
“I’m not supposed to talk to anyone. Law enforcement included.”
“Do you always do as you’re told?”
She squinted, considering a response. “I just look after the animals. I don’t know where they come from or the circumstances. I don’t know anything about the incident other than what’s on the news.”
She was the only one even remotely responsive. In her mid-30s, with brunette hair that hung past her shoulders, Marley Maddox was cute and earthy. She had a trim figure and stood about 5’7”.
“Apparently, there is still a panther on the loose,” I said.
“I can’t really comment.”
“Did you have an opportunity to treat the animal?”
Marley paused a moment. “Typically, when we receive a new carnivore or any animal, I review medical records, do a full evaluation under sedation, and it goes into quarantine. We set up an observation schedule and watch for any signs of distress or aggression. Sometimes we let them acclimatize for a day or two before we perform the eval. It’s a case-by-case situation. ”
“Did you have time to eval the new panther?”
“We’re getting into areas I’m not comfortable answering.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I’d like to keep my job.” She forced a smile. “My talking to you is putting that at risk.”
There were plenty of security cameras throughout the facility. No doubt someone was watching us.
“In general, how long is the quarantine period?”
“Thirty days is typical. Situations vary. Once the animal has been cleared, we begin the process of integration. Panthers are extremely sensitive to changes in environment, diet, staff, etc. If stressed, they can refuse to eat, engage in self-harm—”
“Become aggressive?”
“In some instances.”
“Do you think a panther is capable of these attacks?”
Marley smiled. “I’m not in a position to speculate.”
I mirrored her smile. She had a nice one. “About the break-in… Do you have any idea who may be responsible? Have you heard any rumors?”
Marley frowned. “I haven’t. Sorry. I wish I could be more helpful.”
I thanked her and gave her a card.
“She’s cute,” JD said as we strolled away.
“Indeed.”
We tried to find more willing staff, but people were pretty tight-lipped.
JD and I left and headed across the island to Vanden University. With the windows down and the sunroof open, we sped across town with classic rock pumping through the speakers. A momentary escape until we were forced back to reality.
The traffic had gotten thick on the island, the steady influx of tourists for Halloween congesting the streets.
We found a place to park in the Founders’ Court, then hustled across campus to Pemberton Hall. Pretty sorority girls bounced across campus, lugging backpacks and wearing short shorts and tank tops. Lots of blonde hair and ponytails. A compelling excuse for pursuing higher education.
I had called the administration building and gotten details on Taryn Crowe’s teaching schedule. We found her in room 106. With auditorium seating, the class was packed. Interest in her class had grown since the werewolf attacks. I suspected there were kids in class who weren't formally enrolled.
Taryn stood at the podium on the stage, giving a lecture, referring to slides projected on the screen. The room was dim, and Taryn wore a small Lavalier mic that projected her voice through state-of-the-art speakers mounted at the ceiling.
"The origin of the werewolf myth can be traced back to ancient Greece,” Taryn said.
“As the legend has it, King Lycaon fed Zeus human flesh to test him to see if he was an actual god.
This, of course, angered Zeus, and he cursed the king to roam as a beast. There are many different variations of the story.
Some say he was banished to Hades and forced to live as a wolf and consume human flesh for all eternity.
Other legends state that Nordic warriors channeled the wolf spirit before going into battle and actually became wolves themselves.
Multiple cultures have multiple variations on the story, but what remains interesting is the fact that a mythical creature—part man, part wolf—still exists today and captivates the imagination of many. "
"Captivates the imagination of some psychopaths!" a frat guy shouted.
The students laughed.
"The deaths of two innocent people on this island is no laughing matter," Taryn said.
"Do you think a werewolf really did it?" a girl asked.
The bell rang.
"That's a question for next time," Taryn said.
The students flooded out of the aisle and raced up the steps. We fought against the stream and made our way down to the main stage.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she said as she spotted us.
“Wolf, in this case,” I said.
Taryn smirked, mildly amused.
“Are you here to tell me you found the person or persons responsible for breaking into my house?”
“No. Sorry. I’m here for your professional opinion.”
“I was wondering how long it would take you two to show up. This is a special crime if there ever was one, is it not?”