“A portion of the creature’s hide trailed behind the head like the cape of a magician who has vanished after his final trick. Straining under the weight, she hobbled across the concrete floor and settled the head into a black plastic garbage bag. She tucked in the hide and closed the bag, then carried it in an awkward embrace to the icebox. Freezing the hide stopped the growth of bacteria. Hides not frozen immediately after skinning risked hair slippage and rot. She’d done a decent job on the sk...inning, left enough cape for the taxidermist to work with. Excess could always be cut away, but too little cape sometimes meant no mount could be made at all. Governor Sanchez was not a man who’d easily forgive such a blunder and he sure as hell wasn’t a guy she wanted to be indebted to. When she latched the freezer door and turned back to the cleaning table, the sudden silence stopped her. An icy prickle washed across her shoulders. The frogs had ceased. No owls, no voices from the lodge.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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