Wolf Kill by Cary J. Griffith

Author:Cary J. Griffith [Griffith, Cary J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781647550561
Publisher: Adventure Publications
Published: 2021-06-14T22:00:00+00:00

Heins and Pederson had been somewhere, and there were others who were heading back to Moon’s place. And at some point, they’d been at the farm. Were they coming from the farm, or somewhere else?

“This door was unlatched,” Moon said. “Must have nosed it open.”

“Smart wolves,” Sam commented. He peered along the frame, found tufts of gray and black hair. “Steve,” he called to the conservation officer, who was behind him. “What do you have in the bag?”

“Digital camera. Evidence kit,” he managed, a little shaken by the view and smell.

“Got any baggies?”

Svegman opened the shoulder bag, happy for the diversion. He rummaged through its contents and pulled out a small sheaf of baggies with a rubber band around them.

“Can I have one of those?” Sam asked.

Svegman pulled off his mittens and extracted a baggy, handing it to Sam.

“How about a forceps?”

Svegman returned to the bag and extracted the stainless-steel tool.

“Is this normal?” Diane asked.

Sam leaned down close to the edge of the door. The others were standing just outside the barn, watching him work. He clamped down on the largest clump of hair, shaking it loose into the baggie. He found two or three more samples and dropped them into separate bags. When he handed the bags to Svegman, he said, “Nothing normal about it.”

Moon appeared to dislike seeing Sam bag hair. Interesting. “Wolf hair is pretty specific. I’m sure this is it, but it’s standard with most wolf investigations. You always want a little physical evidence,” Sam lied.

“Got plenty of that,” Moon growled.

Sam had taken a sample because he wanted to check it. But he was also interested in Moon’s reaction. The woodsman’s irritation confirmed his decision to ship the sample to the USFW lab in Ashland. As soon as they returned to town, Sam would FedEx it. They’d determine definitively what kind of wolves they were. It looked like the real thing. Sam just wanted to be certain. And if the sheriff and the Minnesota DNR and Agriculture wanted the final report delayed, giving them time to prepare for the fallout, waiting for the DNA analysis would provide some cover.

Clearly the woodsman was unnerved.

Svegman nodded in agreement, though Sam knew he wouldn’t have bagged the hair.

Diane watched.

The sheriff’s expression suggested he was pleased Sam was along.

Moon finally reached over and flicked on the overhead light, providing a little more illumination for the scene. The smell and shadowed glimpses were bad enough, but under the dull barn light, the five onlookers were shocked by the carnage. Everyone but Moon and Sam.

“My God,” Diane repeated.

One glance was enough, not likely something any of them would soon forget. Svegman looked at it and his stomach did a flip-flop.

“Doesn’t look good,” the sheriff agreed, though he was cool, Sam noticed. He had probably seen plenty worse, involving people, not livestock.

For Sam it was ugly and unusual but not unnerving. He stepped forward. “Got a flashlight, Steve?”

Svegman reached into his bag and extracted a flashlight. Sam flicked it on and carefully stepped to the largest animal, or what was left of it.

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