Cordi O'Callaghan Mysteries 4-Book Bundle. Suzanne F. Kingsmill

at the photo finish.

      “Take a look at the weight, Ryan.”

      “Fifty kilograms. What of it?”

      “That’s a hell of a size for an adult Canada lynx.”

      Ryan looked at me, and then clicked on all the other file windows. Not one of Diamond’s adult lynx weighed more than ten kilograms. Not surprising, since female lynx average about 8.6 kilograms.

      I looked at Ryan, blowing out my cheeks in excitement. I pointed at the computer screen. “This cat’s at least five times the weight of an adult lynx. There’s only one cat in Canada that big.”

      I let the words hang in the air for effect. This was my moment of triumph and I wanted to savour it. Ryan looked at me expectantly.

      “It was a cougar, Ryan. Diamond was monitoring a pregnant cougar!”

      Ryan stood looking at me, uncomprehending, my dramatic little revelation having had no effect on him.

      “So what? Even if he was studying a cougar I don’t see what that has to do with Diamond’s death. He was a cat man. He studied cats. What’s the problem?”

      “Cougars haven’t been found in Western Quebec for generations.”

      Ryan let out a long, low whistle and said, “You’re joking. Are you sure?” Ryan’s shift from boredom to excitement was palpable, and I spoke quickly.

      “Of course I’m sure. Lots of people have claimed to have seen them over the years but there’s been no believable evidence. Most biologists think they are extinct, gone, vanished, forever dead here in Quebec, but they are officially listed as endangered in eastern Canada because there have been so many unconfirmed sightings over the years. Recently someone found a small population in New Brunswick. If Diamond really had found a cougar, it would be dynamite. Logging would stop on the instant. The spotted owls in the old growth on the west coast forced the loggers to stop out there not too long ago.”

      Ryan heaved out of his chair. “I’m famished. Let’s celebrate with something from your fridge.” Ryan was going to eat me out of house and home before Rose and the kids returned from her parents’ cottage. Still, it was nice to have him around to myself every night to talk things over. I knew I’d miss his nightly company when Rose got back. Oh sure, I’d get my fill by visiting them as I always had, but it wasn’t the same. I wouldn’t have his undivided attention. I thought of Patrick then, as Ryan and I linked arms and walked across the farmyard and down the road to my house.

      The sun was spilling its guts all over my porch when we got there. I threw some steaks on the barbecue and Ryan made a salad. The crickets serenaded us as we continued our conversation on the porch.

      “How the hell did you make the connection?” he asked.

      “The baseball game, a necklace, and that crumpled scrap of paper I found by Diamond’s pack.” I told Ryan what I thought I’d read on the paper. “Anyway, Shannon had a necklace with a tooth embedded in silver. She told me it was a cougar tooth and that Diamond had found it in Florida. I didn’t make the connection then, but when I listened to the uproar as the Panthers won the game I realized that what was written on that smudged scrap of paper wasn’t ‘antlers’ at all. It could just as easily be ‘panthers,’ another name for cougars. I suddenly figured the cat with no statistics might have no stats for a reason.”

      “You’re talking about a career-making discovery here, and he sits on it? Why didn’t he break the news earlier instead of radio-collaring the beast and following it around for a few months?”

      “He wanted solid, irrefutable proof I guess. Not just a photo of a cougar but a photo of a cougar with cubs! What a coup! He’d never lack for grant money again.”

      I was on a roll. Theories leaping all over the place.