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If there’s anything I hate with stakes this high, it’s waiting.
I’ve never been caught up in something like this before, but dammit, I’m at my limit.
If he’s still up in his head, telling us it’ll be another week or two, then I’ll come up with my own fix.
I can’t leave Willow high and dry for another week, or those poor critters suffering at that outpost of hell in Minot.
Seeing that baby lion treated like a slab of fucking meat shanked me in the guts. Same with knowing beyond all doubt there’s a goddamn dirty conservation officer enabling it all.
The world is an ugly-ass place.
I’ve known it for years, but I still can’t fathom what kind of debased turd wants to make money off dragging animals around to be slaughtered.
There’s evil, and then there’s total devilry.
I saved the video footage on a jump drive and regretfully jacked it into the computer in Weston’s office, where we all gather so the rest of the guys can have a look.
Having already seen enough of that shit for this lifetime, Faulk and I stand back while the others take it in.
A few shoulders tighten. Hands reach up, scratching at their heads. Then our friends turn their eyes on us.
“What the shit?” Weston says, his blue gaze looking a shade paler as he meets my eyes. “Uncle Grady...was that a baby lion?”
“Yes,” Faulk answers for me. “A very endangered one, and proof of everything I suspected, I reckon. This is a pretty sophisticated black-market animal ring. They steal their products from all across the U.S.A. Zoos, shady sanctuaries, and distressed rescue centers are being shut down all the time and can’t keep their exotics any longer. They step in with quick cash, get the critters for free, and usually don’t spend more than a few months on upkeep before flipping ’em for a fat profit to sicko buyers.”
“What the fuck?” Drake snarls, stepping forward. “You guys should’ve come straight to the sheriff’s office, we could—”
“Yeah, there’s a problem with that. They’ve got insiders helping them, like I said,” I tell him calmly. “If that was an option, you know I would’ve jumped on it.”
I expected the shot to the heart, seeing Drake upset, but I still don’t like it. He’s a hardcore animal lover thanks to his wife, Bella. Owning Edison the horse, the biggest celebrity this town’s ever likely to have—Ridge included—does something special to a man.
“Faulk?” I gesture for him to continue.
“Right. So, like I was saying, these damn illegal wranglers keep some rare animals for show, some for history, and some for steady funding. The donations and grants filtering in from conservation groups help pad their real moneymaking operation. That’s where the others go, sad to say. Lions, tigers, leopards, monkeys of every kind, even elephants and giraffes get shipped off to be killed or treated like toys. Every so often some rich fuck in a place where it’s legal to own big cats as pets will keep them alive, but most of ’em aren’t so lucky. Soon as there’s a buyer, the critters are off to meet their fate, and she’s usually a real bitch to them.”
Faulk sighs, his breath like raw sandpaper.
Doesn’t that say it all?
Slowly, I glance around the room, taking in the tense, dark faces of men who are just starting to feel it.
The same mental torture I’ve experienced for weeks, wishing like hell I could charge in and end this, but having to check my own courage—or would-be stupidity.
“Faulk, how do you make something alive that weighs hundreds of pounds just up and disappear?” Ridge practically spits his words. “I saw the plane, but hell. A model that small has to make regular stops for fuel if it’s heading across country. How do they keep it under wraps?”
Faulk shifts his weight, sliding his hands together and cracking his knuckles.
“That’s where it gets interesting. I ran the numbers off the side of that plane days ago, and it’s out of Canada. Registered to a guy who lives somewhere on Vancouver Island. Didn’t have an American flight plan that night.”
“Canada?” Drake echoes. “That makes this crap international.”
“Sure does,” Faulk answers. “From what I’ve gathered, their cargo heads up to Canada, and then they put them on ships or long-haul flights to Asia. Big cat trade and more is legal in lots of places, sad to say. Exotic carcasses turn up all the time missing body parts. Won’t say more because I don’t want you guys puking.”
A few tired curses fly around the room.
I make a mental note to ask Willow about what she’s seen with poachers in Africa, but only for a moment.
Talk about a stupid move.
She had her heart ripped in half the night that cub vanished into the ether. Unless there’s critical intel involved, I’m not keen on squeezing her feelings out again.
