“Do you know what you’re going to tell them?” she asked.

“Not really. We’re doing a couple of things, but there’s nothing you’d really call a plan. I’m just hoping Konrad comes up with something.”

“I’m sure it’ll all work out,” Phyllis said, running a hand up and down the ranger’s back.

“Yeah, everything always works out in the end,” he said. “It’s the middle, where everything goes wrong, that’s got me worried.”

Phyllis smiled, remaining by the ranger’s side all the way into the building.

The pack followed.

As he entered the room, the ranger was struck by the voices. A lot of them were talking at once, and he felt that they all were angry, some even wanting blood. When the people noticed him, the noise in the hall quieted to a low murmur.

Garrett left Phyllis and the pack to find seats for themselves at the back of the room, then he walked up a side aisle to the front. Sergeant Martin was already standing by the podium, and next to him was Mayor Magill, who also owned the only dry cleaners and movie rental in town. Garrett shook hands with the mayor, then the sergeant, and took a seat.

“All right, then,” said the mayor. “Now that everybody’s here, we can begin.”

There was one last shifting of seats, then the room slowly grew silent.

The mayor waited a moment, then began. “As you know by now, Ernie Ilson was visited by some wolves last night.”

“Wasn’t just a visit,” someone said, from the middle of the room. “It was a raid. A killing raid.”

A clamor of voices erupted. When things calmed down, the mayor resumed his address. “Call it what you want, at this point it’s an isolated incident.”

“I’ve lost one of my cats,” said Margaret Maynard, a sixty-year-old single woman who lived in a cabin on the edge of town.

“My dog’s gone too!” said a man at the back.

“There’s half a horse lying in my front yard and there’s no sign of the rest of it anywhere,” added Yvonne Nagleson, who ran a riding stable outside of Alexis Creek.

Garrett didn’t like what he was hearing. There was a wild werewolf in the forest and it was acting like a killing machine, leaving a lot of angry people in its wake.

Suddenly a man stood up and pointed a finger at Ranger Brock. “This is all your fault, you know!” he said.

Garrett recognized him as Fatias Boyage, owner of the Crosscut and Curl Hair Salon in downtown Redstone.

“My fault?” Garrett said, placing an open hand against his chest as he rose from his chair.