Rylee arranged to meet up with Henrietta Cooper and Dr. Eric Larson for lunch at the Verity Diner. She arrived a few minutes late and found them already waiting.

"I got us a table instead of one of those tight booths," Henrietta said after they greeted each other. She pointed at Rylee's belly. "I remember the discomfort being so far along when I had my kids."

Two things surprised Rylee, the gruff shieldmaiden's empathy and the fact she had kids. She chided herself for being insensitive for thinking that way. She pulled her chair and joined them. "That's kind of you. How many children do you have?"

"Five ranging in age from ten to twenty. Four boys and a girl. The girl gives me the most trouble. Just turned fifteen and thinks she knows it all."

Rylee couldn't help thinking how if she hadn't suffered the two previous miscarriages, this baby would be her third. All she could think to say was, "That's nice."

Dr. Larson cleared his throat. "I suppose we should come up with a game plan."

Henrietta glanced at her phone sitting on the table beside her plate. "I confirmed with my banking app a little while ago that the payment from your director cleared my account. The dogs and I are ready to hunt."

The three of them ordered lunch and, while eating, agreed to proceed by taking Henrietta's dogs to the lake where Dale Doughty had been killed.

As they left the diner, a pickup truck barreled down the street honking its horn. The two occupants had rolled down their windows and were hooting. The driver parked in front of the town offices and sprang from his vehicle. He waved an arm, beckoning everyone to come.

"I wonder what this is all about?" Dr. Larson asked.

Rylee, Henrietta, and Larson converged on the truck along with other passers-by. Mayor Green appeared from his office asking, "What's all the commotion?"

The driver, a man Rylee didn't know, shouted for everyone to gather 'round. He lowered the truck's tail gate. "Our problem pig ain't gonna be a problem no more."

Lying in the truck bed was the carcass of a large feral hog. It had been shot through the body behind the shoulder. The driver said, "Damn thing was heavy. Had to use a winch to pull it into the bed."

Dr. Larson studied the carcass.

"Did you shoot it in the park?" Rylee asked.

"Clark and I were staying at our hunting cabin up on Range Road. This thing was rooting around in our garbage pile. I shot it right from the cabin window."

Rylee assumed Clark was the man's passenger. Range Road was up Verity Mountain about a mile from the park's border. "What's your name, sir?"

The man pulled his wallet and presented her with his ID even though Rylee hadn't asked for it. His name was Ben Crenshaw.

Crenshaw said, "You'll probably need my official ID so I can collect the reward."

Mayor Green vibrated with excitement. He shook Crenshaw's hand. "This is fantastic. Now we can reopen the park and get things back to normal. We might be able to save the season after all."

"Sure is a big pig," One of the bystanders said.

"Ugly too," said another.

Henrietta spit a wad of tobacco. "I'm keeping the fee your director paid me. Easiest money I ever made."

"I'm calling the media," Mayor Green said. "We need to get the news out as soon as possible."

Dr. Larson pulled a tape measure from where it was attached to his belt and measured the carcass. "Hold up."

No one but Rylee heard him. They were too busy celebrating and whooping it up. "What is it?"

He measured the tusks. "This isn't the right pig. This isn't Mister Jowls."

Henrietta heard him and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Doc?"

"This is a sow. The tusks are much shorter than the boar we saw in the video, and it appears as if it weighs a good two hundred pounds less." He looked up and caught Rylee's gaze. "It's not the right pig."

Where she had been elated a moment ago, Rylee now despaired. She sighed and yelled, "Attention. Listen up. I need your attention."

Nobody paid her any mind. "I got this," Henrietta said. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and unleashed a long, loud whistle.

The crowd stopped talking and looked her way. "Folks, the doc here has something to tell you."

He repeated what he just told Rylee.

Mayor Green smacked his fist into this palm. "No, no, no, this can't be. That has to be our pig."

"It's not," Dr. Larson said. "I'm sure of it."

"You're mistaken," the mayor insisted. "We never had feral hogs in this area. Now you're trying to tell us we have more than one?"

"It's not unusual. In the wild, hogs travel together. It's rare to encounter a lone, rogue boar. A group of them must have migrated here together."

From the back of the crowd, Jill Hunnicut, the park's PR director spoke. Her voice trembled. "Are you saying this general area is being invaded by predatory hogs? Dangerous animals? How many do you figure? What are we going to do?"

Murmuring broke out among the crowd. Dr. Larson clapped his hands. "Hey, listen up."

They went quiet.

"Hogs are timid and fearful of people. They'll go out of their way to avoid us. The mountains around this town are isolated and sparsely populated, which makes it attractive to shy creatures like feral hogs."

"Well, one of them sure isn't shy," someone yelled. "It's murderous."

Jill Hunnicut stepped forward. "More than one? Our park is finished. Our whole town is finished. Nobody in their right mind will want to bring their children here."

More murmuring broke out.

"Listen to me," Dr. Larson yelled. "You're overreacting. The evidence indicates you have only one problem hog."

"One problem hog?" Jill shouted. "One leaky faucet is a problem. One flat tire is a problem. One late payment is a problem. One problem hog that murders people is not a problem...it's an epic disaster."

Henrietta who had been standing by spoke up. "Your problem is why me and my dogs are here. It's why I've been hired, right? I suggest you all clear out, go home, and let me deal with this. The sooner I can get started, the sooner your town can get back to normal."

"I'm not buying any of it," Mayor Green said. Rylee heard desperation in his voice. "Until proven otherwise, I'm convinced this animal"—he pointed to the carcass—"is our killer hog."

"I can prove otherwise," Dr. Larson said.

Mayor Green stepped into Larson's personal space. In a challenging tone, he said, "You can't prove it to me using just your tape measure."

"Maybe not, but there's one sure fire way I can convince you."

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

"By conducting an autopsy. Let's take a look at what's in the animal's digestive tract."

The mayor's expression turned to one of horror. "Here? Now? Look, I can't have human body parts spill out all over Main Street."

Dr. Larson smirked. "You said you wanted definitive proof."