“Calm down, Alexander. I know the vehicle and I know exactly who’s driving—it’s Sheriff McCord.”
“Are you SURE?” he demanded, harshly.
I don’t know what was going on with him, but I swear there was a moment when I wanted to tell him to stop being so paranoid, to take a deep breath and calm down and think about how the last attacks had been. The cats operated covertly but in complete freedom—why would they risk stealing a police vehicle, when they’d already proven they needed nothing but their natural hunting ability to get close to us?
But I can’t blame him. Surely Alexander felt the weight of many lives on his shoulders.
And the weight of what the tiger had done to me.
“I know Sheriff McCord,” I insisted, in a gentler tone. “Luke and his wife welcomed me when I came to live here. He
