his wife had been treated to an elaborate feast. The chefs prepared buffalo rib eye, elk chops, and Colorado lamb, along with a myriad of traditional Chinese dishes: pickled cabbage called Suan Cai, Mongolian Hot Pot, and steamed buns. Terrell didnât care for the steamed buns, but his wife indulged.
Today was the day they would finally meet Xiao, at the ornate palace the owner called his ranch. More ceremony and more public speaking. More attention. Things Terrell didnât like.
He checked around the room for Charlotte, who was nowhere to been seen. Judging by her excitement during the first two days of the trip, he deduced that she was out sightseeing. He looked out across the way toward the white buffalo on wheels. The streets were empty, and smog had blown in from the city overnight.
Looking at the itinerary, Terrell decided the day ahead didnât look so bad. Meet in the lobby at 9 a.m. Walk down Main Street to breakfast and to meet Xiao. That was it. Seemed easy enough. Bullet had promised Terrell the night before that there wouldnât be any press this time. Nice and low-key.
After the meeting, Charlotte and Terrell would have some free time for lunch and exploring, and then their final dinner. He couldnât wait to get home, though he wasnât looking forward to the long flight or the mystery wolf carcass that was waiting for him.
Terrell grabbed the remote, which sat in a classy elk-tine holder, and clicked on the TV. The room was indeed very nice. Grand , as they had told him. He could get used to this level of luxury.
But would it kill them to add some American channels? The chief was a big fan of Ax Men on the History Channel.
He continued to flip through. Wacky game shows and news in a language he couldnât understand.
Great.
He phoned the front desk. The attractive woman answered; he recognized her silky tempo.
âEverything okay, Mr. Terrell?â
âFine. I am just wondering if there is American news on the television.â
âOf course, sir. My apologies, but no, not on the TV. Your best bet is to stream it from the business center.â
âStream?â He paused. âOh, right. Thank you.â He hung up.
Stream? The chief felt embarrassed. He knew basically what it meantâhe did have teenaged children. But it dumbfounded him that a word he would never feel comfortable enough to use in normal conversation was commonplace for someone who spoke English as a second language.
He cycled through the channels again. Nothing. He looked at the remote to try to figure out how to turn on English closed captioning, but it was far too advanced. Too many buttons.
Fucking technology.
The chief hopped out of bed, brushed his teeth, and put his contacts in. Then he threw on a gray button-down with fake pearl buttons, jeans, and his turquoise and silver bolo tie. He took the stairs instead of the elevator. He felt out of shape from all the enormous meals heâd been served over the last couple of days.
Passing the front desk to get to the business center, he could manage only a sheepish smile at the beautiful front-desk agent.
Terrell had no intentions of streaming anything. Text news would do.
Finding nothing to steal his attention, he signed onto the police departmentâs email server. There was plenty of spam, and a single email from Layle, his deputy.
Rog,
Wolf carcass is in the big fridge at game and fish. No leads and nothing suspicious, so weâre just waiting for your approval to incinerate.
âLayle
Terrell responded, asking Layle to leave the carcass on ice for a day or two longer, in case any tips came in.
Charlotte was in the room straightening her hair when Terrell got back. She immediately noticed his pale demeanor.
âThere you are. Everything okay?â
âFine. Just tired. Still jet-lagged.â
âWeâve got a few minutes, you know.â She dropped her robe,revealing her slim body, which, Terrell had to
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