The act didn’t fool the man for one minute. That’s how the bastard had nearly gotten him the first time, by pretending not to see him. Never again, he thought determinedly.
Napoleon stepped in front of him, and paused.
The rain came down in waves, backlit by the harsh glare of the security lights, and the man squinted. It was hard to see the animal this close to the paddock. Not impossible, but hard. He could make out the profile of its head and neck, but the details were a wash. And the nylon wasn’t helping.
Lightning flashed above them, and thunder cracked. It was a sharp, ragged sound—like the crunch of a busting tree trunk. The man flinched, and Napoleon turned to face him. The two of them stared at each other through the rain and the steel mesh.
“So, we meet again,” the man joked,
