"So," Rodney said after making a note in his book, "this dog, Lobo, belonged to you before going on the rampage."

Liz nodded, taking a drag on her cigarette. "That's what they say. But whether it's my Lobo on the rampage or some other dog, I can't say for sure. He was always very gentle with me."

"And what about these allegations that he killed a young man and some cattle on a ranch near here?"

Liz laughed. "Have you ever known a German Shepherd to kill cattle? If you ask me, I'd say it was a hoax with my runaway pet as the scapegoat."

"If you don't mind my asking, Mrs. Clark, why did he run away?" Rodney pressed.

Liz looked down and her eyes clouded. "Someone here, someone I knew, brutalized him. He had to run away to avoid being killed. He never returned."

"I see," Rodney sympathized.

Tanya spoke up. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom, Liz?"

"Go ahead. It's down the hall on the left."

Tanya got up and while Rodney continued with the interview, she went down the hall to the end and opened the door on the right. The light was off and the room in shadows so she had closed the door before she noticed that she had turned in the wrong direction. Flicking on the light switch, she discovered the large bedroom and the open window. She was turning to leave when a horrifying sound froze her in her tracks. It was a sound she heard in her nightmares since she had come to Pickford's Meadows and had her own first experience with the horrible legend of Lobo. She had hoped never to hear that sound again, for she associated it with her sordid session with the wet-tongued dog that Rodney and Liz were talking about, an event that neither of them had the slightest knowledge of.