The Sam’s Tans driveway lay a block away and directly in my view. Parked in the shadows of several enormous oaks, I gulped down the last mouthful of coffee. No activity for the past hour, unless I counted cats sprinting across the road. Knowing my luck, the moment I left for a caffeine refill, I’d miss out on something going down. I still wasn’t convinced that the owner of the store was in any way mixed up with my smuggling case or the missing cubs from the institute. He’d offered us free access to inspect the building whenever we needed. The shock on his face seemed genuine. When I questioned him about the fur, he hastily removed the pelt from the wall, insisting he hadn’t inspected it properly. But if Daciana, who had a keen eye, had been able to tell the age of the pelt from a quick inspection, why hadn’t Sam? I could understand now why Vasile accepted her into the institute, despite her being only twenty-four and having minimal work experience. She had talent. Anton was investigating several backyard tanning operations we’d heard about.
