Greg? Selling animals? But . . . how? Why? He’s always been . . .” I paused, unsure of how to go on. It was true that I had never liked Greg, not trusting that smooth demeanor, and the ruthless way he cut jobs and programs in order to pad the budget, but that was a far cry from being a part of a ring that more or less murdered people. Wasn’t it? “A bastard?” Cora offered. I frowned. “Oh, come on, every time you’ve told me about him, you mentioned how much you didn’t like him. You said he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but himself. That sounds like a man who wouldn’t turn a hair about turning people into jaguars and sending them off to be hunted.” “What exactly did the e-mails say?” I asked Sam. “Most of them just talked about some unnamed plan that they were putting into place, but this one was particularly damning.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and handed it to me.
