Free Endangered (9781101559017) by Pamela Beason

rounder impression to the side of the dog print.
    â€œToo smudged to tell,” Kent said.
    Perez straightened, jotted down a note. “So it could have been a cougar.”
    â€œNo.” Sam’s voice was firm.
    Using his pen, Perez pointed to the sign on the signboard that bordered the campsite. WHAT TO DO IF YOU SEE A COUGAR. Addressing Kent, he asked, “Why do you have those posted?”
    Kent hooked his thumbs in his belt. “The park service requires them in every park with a cougar population.”
    Sam explained further. “The cougars in this park stay mostly in the high country, away from people.”
    The agent’s eyebrows lifted. “Mostly?”
    Kent swallowed before responding. “They sometimes follow the deer down or come down for water in dry season. But there’s never been a cougar attack in this park. And only one in this state, as far as I know, and that was way back in 1997.”
    Perez’s expression was skeptical. “Less than a year ago, a woman was killed by a mountain lion in a California park.”
    Sam scoffed. “Well, of course in California! People there go jogging through wild areas like they’re running down Hollywood Boulevard.”
    When the FBI agent regarded her curiously, she realized her words had been too vehement. Even Kent was frowning. But then, they didn’t live next to L.A. transplants who had just chain-sawed three acres of mature forest to plant a lawn.
    Perez wasn’t ready to give up. “There have been a number of cougar attacks in the West. They’re on the increase.”
    Sam waited a second for Kent to respond. When he didn’t, she jumped in. “They only happen in areas where the people are destroying the lions’ habitat. How would you react if your home was wilderness one year and subdivisions the next?”
    Perez’s steady gaze told her he was not impressed. “Several people have been attacked across the western U.S. and British Columbia. Some were killed.”
    Sam grimaced. Each incident was a blow for wildlife recovery organizations. Many reports were unconfirmed, but she could see it would do no good to argue that with Mr. FBI.
    Kent finally spoke up. “Those incidents are unusual. Cougars don’t normally behave like that.”
    Perez shrugged. “You’re the wildlife expert in the park?”
    Kent nodded. “The cougars here have plenty of open territory, and plenty of prey—mule deer and jackrabbits and bighorn sheep. They have no reason to seek out humans.”
    Someone had to say the unthinkable, just as Kent had this morning. “Look,” Sam told Perez, “if a cougar had killed Zack, we’d have found his body by now. Or at least . . . parts of it.” Even saying the words made her feel a little queasy.
    â€œUnless the cat dragged him off. I understand they can carry prey a long distance.” Perez tugged at the knot of his tie. “Do you know where their lair is?” he asked Kent.
    Sam snorted. “Cougars don’t have lairs . Mother cats might use the same cave or thicket for a few weeks while their cubs are too small to travel, but aside from that they roam around throughout their territory.”
    The FBI agent’s face took on a deeper hue. Sam continued, enjoying the man’s embarrassment. “Adult cats have a range of forty to sixty square miles. But they’re rarely seen. They’re elusive creatures.”
    Perez turned to Kent. “I may need to check it out for myself. If so, I’ll want you to take me to them.”
    Right , she thought. Just knock on the door of a cougar lair: “ Cougars, meet the FBI—he’s got a few questions for you .” Addressing Perez, she said, “It would make it easy for you, wouldn’t it, to blame a cougar?”
    He raised an ebony eyebrow.
    â€œThen it wouldn’t be an FBI problem, would it?” she pressed.
    â€œOur judicial