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Craig Nybo

6

attacked by chupacabras.”

“If there is something out there, they’d get it; they know these woods like the bed of a favorite mistress,” Clay said.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting on the crazy train.”

“No, sir,” Clay said, pulling up a chair and sitting down across the desk from Kurt.

“I don’t like the idea of a bunch of armed drunks out there aiming at who-knows-what.”

“It happens every year; it’s called deer season,” Clay said.

“They’re not thinking deer. We’ve got Buren flapping on about el chupacabra and Larry running his mouth about Bigfoot.”

“Sasquatch,” Clay corrected.

“What?”

“Larry is one of the number one authorities on the subject. The Discovery Channel even sent a film crew out a few years back to get some interviews and shots of his evidence. You’d best not be saying Bigfoot around him; you’ll insult him.” Clay expected Kurt to laugh—at least to chuckle.

Kurt didn’t.

“Besides, it was a wolf attack right?” Clay said.

Kurt stood and began to pace back and forth across his office. “It’s not the wolves I’m worried about; it’s the hysteria.”

“Hysteria?” Clay’s eye-brows arched.

“Clay, what would you say was the biggest news to ever hit DePalma Beach?”

“What are you getting at?”

“Just humor me. Think it through; out of everything that has ever happened here, what is the thing that has had the most impact?”

Clay thought for a moment. “I’d say that psychopath back in the fifties; what was his name?” Clay snapped his fingers, trying to think of the guy’s name.

“Danny Slade,” Kurt said.

“That’s right. How did you know about him?”

“I had a beer with Hugh last night. It seems word of the animal mutations has traveled far and fast. The first thing on