“I saw him on the highway this morning, on my way to work. I couldn’t believe it. ‘Whoa, that was a cougar, I said’. So I backed up and there he was.”
It wasn’t a he, it was Audrey, a seven-year-old female cougar that Jared had rescued three years previously from a Miami drug dealer who’d been arrested. Litten had wrapped her in a big towel that bore the logo of a nearby golf course. Jared leaned into the trunk to stroke her head. Her eyes were open. She was intact, no blood, but cold, dead. He lifted her gently, felt the sickening weight of her head as it hung too low over his arm. Her thick tail roped against his thigh. And heavy, so heavy, a dead weight of one hundred sixty pounds that made him stagger. His eyes went blurry.
Sonofabitch. Am I gonna see any of these cats alive?
“Let’s bury her, Steve. Mr. Litten—I…” He couldn’t make the words come out. Jared looked at Peter, eyes pleading.