CHAPTER ELEVEN

OFFICER GREER HUDDLED IN THE SILVER BLANKET, TRYING TO FEND OFF THE SHOCK.  IT DIDN’T HELP. THE COLD CUT TO HIS BONE.

“Officer? I’m Detective Cook, and this is Detective Lincoln,” Gail said, ignoring the glance from the EMT that indicated, This is not a good time.

“Homicide?” asked a concerned Greer. “The thing I shot – it was an animal. It had to be!”

The two detectives shared a look: where did that come from?

“You shot an animal?” asked Lincoln. “A dog? A wolf?   Something that escaped from the zoo?”

“Yes, something like…”   Greer began softly.   “No, it was… no.   I can’t say what it was.”

“Where is it now?” asked Gail.

Greer was lost in his thoughts for a moment.   As if trying to remember what he saw earlier and perhaps trying even harder to not remember. “I shot at it… but… it was gone.   I don’t think I hit it.”

“We really need to get him to the hospital,” said the EMT.   “I have to insist.”

“Yes, of course, go ahead,” prompted Gail.

“Dude, we’ll talk in the morning,” Lincoln added just before the ambulance doors closed.

Despite his nod, it was clear from his expression Greer was not excited at the thought.