totown and tell anyone who would listen about Methuselah.
“The cougar isn’t dangerous,” he said. “I know it’s unusual, having a cougar as a pet.”
“Unusual?”
“Okay, really strange. If you’ll just let me explain, maybe—”
“Explanations aren’t necessary. What you do in the privacy of your home is your business. I just don’t want my child here.”
Ben wasn’t going to be put off that easily. “As a rule, cougars are dangerous. What most people don’t know, however, is that they’re easily tamed. Methuselah’s circumstances have made him more adaptable than most.”
Jeremy squirmed to get down. Chloe tightened her hold on him.
“The cougar got his paw caught in an illegal trap,” Ben said, determined to continue.
Her eyes grew strangely blank as he talked, making him wonder if she was even hearing him.
“If you’ll only look more closely, you’ll see that he’s almost blind,” Ben added. “All totaled, he has only three teeth left in his head, and they’re all decayed. He may knock you over with halitosis, but otherwise he’s harmless.”
Jeremy finally managed to wriggle free of her arms. When his feet touched the ground, he grabbed her hand and began tugging her toward the kitchen. Ben didn’t want her in there. She’d see all the animals, and then his goose really would be cooked.
“Jeremy,” he tried.
But it was no use. The child was talking a mile a minute. “Mr. Longtree is giving Rowdy a drink of water in his vein, Mom. You gotta come see!”
Ben had been born with a measure of fatalism,inherited, he felt sure, from his Shoshone grandfather. The invasion of his home spelled disaster, but it was done. All he could do was pray Chloe Evans didn’t turn him in.
The last thing Chloe wanted was to go deeper into the house. That wolf had tried to rip her throat out, and no telling what the cougar was capable of. She just wanted to get her son to the car, lock the doors, and drive like a madwoman off this ridge.
Unfortunately, Jeremy was bent on taking her to see his puppy, and Chloe couldn’t think how to gracefully refuse.
At a glance, the kitchen looked normal with its custom cabinetry and high-end appliances. The counters were clean, and the dark green porcelain of the sink shone in the sunlight that poured through the sunroom windows. Chloe saw no pots or residue spills on the range top to indicate illegal drugs had been produced there.
Then she saw the cages—big ones, small ones—taking up every available space. Atop the green granite breakfast bar, a cylindrical pen of wire mesh housed an owl with a bandaged leg. At each end of the U-shaped counter, other cages were stacked three and four deep with all manner of wild creatures confined in them.
“I hope you’ll excuse the menagerie,” Longtree said from behind her. “I no longer hang my shingle anywhere, but I’m still a vet. When I come across wounded critters in the woods, I can’t bring myself to turn a blind eye. At present, the kitchen is the only place I have to treat them.”
Chloe took a hasty inventory. In addition to the owl, she saw an opossum, a rabbit, two raccoons, a one-legged quail, a silver gray squirrel, a red fox, and what looked alarmingly like an ordinary rat.
Longtree moved past her to the table. He spent a moment fiddling with the IV taped to the puppy’s leg. “I know it probably seems strange.” His black brows drew together in a frown. “No probably to it, it is strange. But I’m a vet, and these animals needed my help.”
Just that, nothing more? Given the fact that he was breaking the law nine ways to perdition, she thought he should offer more of an explanation. He knew she could turn him in and send him to jail. In Oregon, it was illegal to cage wild animals without a permit, and the state didn’t mess around when it came to prosecuting offenders.
Just last week at work, a man had been hauled in for poaching. He’d not only lost his rifle and vehicle, but
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