Whatever had been caged in here had been ill.

The hay pile at the back shifted as something burrowed away from her. It backed into a corner and could retreat no farther. The mewling had stopped.

Lorna crossed, knelt, and gently picked the hay away. She spotted snowy fur with faint gray spots. A long tail lay tucked around the curled, frightened shape. Small feline ears lay flat against its head.

“A leopard or jaguar cub,” she whispered.

“But it’s white,” Jack said by the doorway. “Like some sort of albino.”

She stared at the cub’s pinched blue eyes. “No. Eye color is normal. Likely it’s a form of inherited leucism. Where only the skin pigment is lost. Either way, it’s definitely some type of panther.”

“I thought you said it was a leopard or jaguar.”

She understood his confusion. It was a common mistake. “Panther’s not really a taxonomic term. The genus Panthera covers all the big cats. Tiger, lion, leopard, jaguar. And a white panther could be a version of any of those cats.”

“And which one is that cub?”

“From the skull structure and what I can tell from the faint spotting, I’d guess jaguar. But I can’t be sure.”

Lorna knew that Jack needed more information. He must have suspected what was plain to her at first glance and wanted confirmation.

Out of the nest of hay, tiny eyes squinted up at her, poorly focused. They looked newly opened, suggesting the cub was only a couple of weeks old or maybe even younger. Additional juvenile features-stubby rounded ears, underdeveloped whiskers-supported her assessment of its newborn status. But what was throwing her off was its size. It had to weigh fifteen or twenty pounds, large enough to be seven or eight weeks old.