Chapter 4

Maggie plodded behind the CSU officer, hoping that theman wouldn’t drop dead from a heart attack as he wheezedand grunted his way up the slow rising incline of the path.She nearly bowled him over when he stopped dead in histracks. He held up his hand, urging her to quiet. Allaround them came the whisper of the trees and underbrush asa summer breeze swept through. In the distance, the loudernoises of the city and the officers surrounding the sceneintruded, but nothing struck her as being out of theordinary."Did you hear something?" she finally questioned.Evans shrugged. "Thought I heard a rustle. Maybeit's just a case of the willies.""The willies?"He didn't say anything else, just plodded forward, hispace slowing the closer they got to the scene.By her estimate they had less than ten yards to gowhen he faced her. "It's a bit further up that bank.Think you should see it by yourself the first time."The moon was full. Bright enough that she coulddetect the fear in his eyes. CSU Evans clearly did notwant to return to the scene right away. With a nod, sheeased past him and carefully followed the swath cut in theunderbrush by whoever had come before her.As she scampered up a steeper portion of the path, itchanged from grass and small brush to hard packed soil,

THE WOLF WITHIN Page 2Copyright 2010 Caridad Pineiroweeds and rock. An odor greeted her a few feet in --blood. Fresh from the smell of it. Abundant for the odorto be so strong at this distance.A shiver racked up her spine -- the willies as theolder cop had aptly stated. Her gut screamed something wasmajor league wrong.She pushed forward, mindful to trace the earlier stepstaken, her attention half on the path before her and halfon the ground beneath her, searching for evidence in thecrystalline moonlight. A few paces ahead, darkerfootprints marred the soil and stone -- bloody shoe prints.Large sizes. Judging from the tread patterns, policeregulation footwear for the most part.A line of something dark glistened beneath the lightof the moon and she bent. Blood had pooled into a crevicebetween two stones. A rivulet of blood fed the growingpool from the bank above.Another shiver shouted at her in warning, but the word"squeamish" did not exist in her vocabulary.She pushed ahead another few steps, but stopped shortof her destination. Even at this distance, the smell ofblood nearly overwhelmed along with another odor --viscera. Redolent of a slaughterhouse.Swallowing down the gorge rising in her throat, Maggiestrode over the crest of the embankment and to where thebody of the victim lay sprawled on a patch of hard-packedsoil and grass. The young woman's legs and arms were at

THE WOLF WITHIN Page 3Copyright 2010 Caridad Pineirodisjointed angles, literally. Her appendages looked as ifthey had been pulled from their sockets. In spots theflesh had been nearly stripped down to the bone whichshined a sickly pink-white in the moonlight.A cold sweat broke out over her body and a line of ittrickled down the back of her neck as she inched closer.The rest of the woman's body was as badly mangled. Testingfor sexual assault might be difficult given that largeparts of her had been . . .Eaten? she thought for the barest of moments before anoise from the underbrush snared her attention.She laid down her investigator's kit and camera andslowly reached for the Smith & Wesson tucked into a holsterat the small of her back. Hunkering into a protectivecrouch, she peered into the tangle of high grasses,saplings and brush around her, hoping the bright moonlightwould illuminate whatever had made the sound.Another rustle came. Louder. Closer. She whippedaround in time to see something large and furry hurtlingher way.She fired off one shot at the animal while raising herleft hand in a defensive gesture. The massive beast didn'tchange direction and barrelled at her, almost deliberately.Pain exploded in her arm as the dog-like creature bitdown, leaving her no choice. She leveled her weapondirectly at its thickly muscled body and opened fire.Round after round made a meaty thunk.