than a body bag.
If I got my hands on him, I might just show him what a live flaying felt like.
And then the thought was gone, replaced with a more sensible one. “Do you have your phone?”
Wilder nodded, still dumbstruck by the horror surrounding us. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a smartphone that had seen better days.
“Film it,” I instructed, hugging the fur tighter. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to comfort the ghost of the dead woman, or I needed her to comfort me.
“What?”
“Film it. Film it all. We can’t broadcast his confession down here, but people need to know what he’s done.” My voice shook. “They need to see this.”
“It will look like hunting trophies,” he reminded me.
“That’s exactly what they are.”
He turned on his phone and started to film. I followed him, trying to keep steady, and narrated exactly what we were looking at. I explained the various artifacts. I said aloud the things I’d only let run through my head. Without screaming or crying, I explained to the world precisely how these items would have needed to be removed to maintain their current form. When Wilder panned to me, I held up the fur.
“This was a person. It was a woman you might have known. She could have worked at your bank. She might have taught Sunday school or art. She might have run marathons or raised money for charity. We are not animals. Anyone who could do this to another person is the animal.” I hugged the fur back to my chest again, and when I started to cry, Wilder shut off his phone.
Footfalls sounded overhead, interrupting my moment of sadness.
“Upload it. Send it to YouTube, or Facebook, or Dropbox. Whatever. Just make sure it’s out there. We need to know people are going to see it even if we… Even if things don’t go according to plan.”
At this point Wilder had spent enough time with me he didn’t ask for my reasons. He pushed a few buttons on his screen then slid the phone back into his pocket.
“You ready for this?” he asked me.
I ran my fingers through the red-brown fur in my hands and stared up at the ceiling.
No.
“You bet your ass I am.”
Chapter Thirty-One
It wasn’t Timothy Deerling waiting for us when we got to the main floor. As Wilder had predicted, the police had arrived instead. But not the real police.
“Sheriff McGraw.” I nodded curtly when we got back into the main worship area. I was still holding the pelt. I wouldn’t let it go again until I had it back on pack land.
He heaved a sigh that carried all the weight of the world on it and holstered the weapon he was carrying. “Miss McQueen. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You mind telling me what the Sam hell it is you think you’re up to? Robbing the church?” He gestured to the fur.
“This doesn’t belong to anyone.”
“I think Pastor Deerling would beg to differ.”
“Let’s not play dumb here, Sheriff. One of your deputies was all too willing to do this same thing to me last night, and I think he did it with your blessing. So if you could cut the bullshit, I’d appreciate it.”
If anything, it looked like he was reconsidering going for his gun.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. But if you’d like to file a formal complaint, I’d be glad to take you both down to the station. You can fill out the form while we book you for trespassing, destruction of property and criminal mischief. Oh, and theft.”
“This. Doesn’t. Belong. To him.” I snarled.
“If the girl wants that old smelly rug so bad, she’s welcome to it. It makes me sick to look at it anyway.” Deerling’s voice came from the back of the room. It was so sweet and smooth I wasn’t surprised at his popularity in the church. The serpent in the Garden of Eden probably fooled Eve with a voice like that.
“Does it make you sick because you remember what you did to get it? How did you manage to keep her alive the whole time? That’s what I want to know. Were you shooting her up with adrenaline? Or did you have her so sedated she didn’t know what was happening?” I shook my head, answering my own question. “No, if she’d been sedated, she might have shifted back. You couldn’t risk that. There’s no trophy in it for you if she’s human. Only