To my parents, Ron and Sandy,

and my sister, Pam,

for their undying love, support, and encouragement

Special thanks to Mike Koenigs, Ph.D., Assistant Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Wisconsin, for sharing with me what it’s like to enter a prison and enclose oneself in a confined space with a ruthless killer, all in the name of science.

You’re a braver man than I.

PROLOGUE

ERIN PALMER SHOVED the tip of a huge slice of pizza into her mouth and ripped off a piece hungrily. “Mmmm,” she said. She was starving.

She was already on her second bite while her parents and little sister, Anna, were still reaching toward the gargantuan pie in the center of the table to pick up their first slices.

“That was amazing, Erin,” said her father, in an exaggerated tone. “You’ve got hands like a magician.” He turned to Erin’s mom. “Did you see that, Cheryl? She was so fast, it almost seemed like there was a piece already missing when the waiter put it on the table.”

Her father was teasing her, but Erin knew he wasn’t really troubled by her bad manners. He had already apologized for getting such a late start on dinner. It was a little after seven thirty and they usually ate at six. Anna had eaten a big snack after school, but Erin had been at soccer practice at the time with other sixth graders from around the area, and hadn’t eaten in what seemed like forever.

“We do have talented children,” noted her mother in amusement.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try tennis, Erin?” asked her dad. “I mean, you’re amazing on a soccer field. But anyone with hands that quick should find a sport where you can actually, you know … use your hands.”

Erin groaned. Her parents wouldn’t miss one of her games for the world, but she knew her dad wasn’t a fan of soccer, even though he claimed otherwise. “I thought soccer was your favorite sport,” she challenged playfully.

“It is,” replied her dad with an impish grin. “I mean, if I had the choice between winning a million-dollar lottery or watching a soccer game—well, that would be a very tough call.”

“You should take the lottery, Daddy,” suggested Anna sagely.

Kids, thought Erin. There were just certain things they didn’t get. While Erin was almost twelve, her little sister was only eight and a half. “He was just kidding, Anna,” she said. “It really wouldn’t be a hard choice.” Erin turned to her father. “Be honest, Dad, if I wasn’t playing, would you ever watch soccer?”

“Well … maybe a few games every four years during the Olympics,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Ah-ha,” said Erin triumphantly. “I knew it wasn’t really your favorite sport.”

“Erin, any sport that you or Anna play is my favorite sport,” her dad replied earnestly, and her mom nodded in agreement. Looking into their adoring eyes, Erin knew they both absolutely meant it, which made her feel warm inside. They had a way of doing that. Her parents were funny and smart and kind, and they loved her and Anna with a passion that showed every instant of every day.

The Palmer family continued chipping away at the massive pizza, although at an ever-diminishing rate as their hunger began to ebb. When they had finished, and were waiting for the bill, Ted Palmer announced that he needed to stop by his office for just a few minutes on their way home.

“How come?” said Anna.

“I have to check up on Mrs. Sinclair’s puppy. A black Lab. I spayed her late this afternoon and Mrs. Sinclair asked me to keep her ’til morning.”

“What’s her name?” asked Anna.

“I told you,” replied her father with a straight face. “Mrs. Sinclair.”

“Daaad,” squealed Anna. “Come on. You know I meant the dog.”

“Catherine.”

Anna took a second to digest this. “The dog’s name is Catherine?”

Her father nodded. “Really. I swear it. I might have gone with something else. But then again, she’s not my dog.”

“Is she cute?” asked Anna.

Ted Palmer rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? Have you ever seen a black Lab puppy that wasn’t absolutely adorable? They don’t make them any other way.” He paused. “The truth is that dogs actually evolved to be cute. To be irresistibly adorable and appealing to humans; the species at the top of the food chain.”

As a veterinarian, he had explained the theory of evolution many times to his daughters. Erin totally got it, but she wasn’t sure Anna did. At least not completely.

“Interesting,” said Erin’s mom. “Never thought about it, but I guess the first species that evolved to become man’s best friend got a pretty good deal.”

“A great deal,” said Ted Palmer. “There are almost eighty million dogs in this country. And most of them are treated like royalty. Meanwhile, wolves, which are superior to dogs in every survival characteristic there is—with the exception of their appeal to humanity—are an endangered species.”

“What about cats?” asked Anna.

“Good point. Cats have a different friendship with humans than dogs, but they haven’t done too badly either.”

“I think I might want to be a vet someday,” said Erin out of the blue.

A slow smile came over her father’s affable face.

“Yeah, me too,” chimed in her little sister.

“Sure,” said her mom wryly. “No kid ever dreams of being a patent attorney.”

“Not true, Mom,” said Erin quickly. “Um … that was my second choice.”

“Sure it was,” said Cheryl Palmer with a grin.

“Girls, you’re both very young,” said their dad. “If you decide to become vets, that would be great. But a lot can happen between now and then—so you should keep your minds open to other things.”

“Like becoming a patent attorney?” said Erin.

“Now let’s not get crazy,” said her father, fighting to keep a straight face.

Her mother threw a balled-up napkin at him while both girls giggled.

Minutes later they had left the restaurant and were heading toward Ted Palmer’s office, sure they would never need to eat again. Night had fallen and the sky over the serene town of Medford, Oregon, was spectacular, as usual. There was no industry for many miles around, and although the Oregon rains came all too often, when the sky was clear the star field and moon were dazzling.

The Palmer Pet Clinic was located in a secluded wooded area about a quarter of a mile from any other sign of civilization along a narrow, semi-paved road. Douglas fir trees and ponderosa pines surrounded the clinic and towered above it. It was a serene, tranquil setting that Ted Palmer thought pets and their owners alike would appreciate. He had decorated the inside with posters of puppies and kittens in humorous poses and had painted each room either a light blue or mint green.

They pulled around back, and as soon as her dad unlocked the door, Erin and her sister raced ahead to where they knew the black Lab would be—past two exam rooms, through an inner door, and inside a large room that was a combination pharmacy and recovery area.

The cage of interest was on top of a long table in the middle of the room. Anna reached the crate the dog was in first.

She let out a bloodcurdling scream. A scream unlike anything Erin had ever heard come from her sister. A primal scream as loud and shrill as only a girl of eight could produce.

The puppy had been butchered. Mutilated.

Erin saw the dog only seconds after her sister and thought her heart would explode. She fought to take a breath and comprehend what she was seeing. She couldn’t bear looking at the poor animal, but she couldn’t look away. Physically couldn’t. As though she were paralyzed. The animal had been crippled and both of its floppy black ears had been sliced off. Its downy-soft black fur was matted with dried blood over the entire surface area of its small, broken body.