CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In terms of a chase, Camille thought it felt almost boring. Neither of the boats had much power—theirs because of its age and lack of maintenance and Allin’s because of the added weight of the gator on the back. Still, there was the anticipation of how it would all end, of how it would play out. She kept reminding herself that there was at least one g*n on the boat ahead of them, a large rifle that had been used to apparently kill a gator.
“I don’t get why the asshole would run,” Palmer called from the wheel.
“I’m guessing reputation,” Camille said. “His website and f*******: pages portray him as this gentle, kind man that takes care to move these animals safely. And we just caught him slaughtering one.”
“Well, this medium-speed chase through the swamps isn’t going to h
