Did Not Survive (13 page)

Chapter Fourteen

At Elephants the next morning, the girls delivered the goods without fuss. Ian was tense and distant. Too bad. There for a bit, it seemed he might relax and become less of an outsider.

Calvin had the penguin feeding mostly done by the time I got there. He said the spectacled owl was ready to be picked up at the hospital and I might as well go get it. I ran into Denny on the way.

“Ire, come see this and view me with new respect. This is big, big, big.” Denny was almost skipping, not easy while carrying a sizeable plastic storage box.

I took a guess. “You've got space-age micronutrients and powerful antioxidants in a revolutionary new formulation. Something the pharmaceutical industry and the medical establishment have concealed for decades to maintain their profits at the expense of our health.”

“What? Don't be ridiculous. I've got four—count them—four
Manouria emys
juveniles. Can you believe it?”

I couldn't pronounce it, but I could believe it. “Let's see.”

He put the box down on the asphalt and opened it with a flourish.

I peered in and recklessly flaunted my herpetological expertise. “Turtles. Four brown turtles.”

“Asian tortoises, from this guy in Longview. Remember I told you weeks ago? He's a turtle nut, and he bred them himself. Incredible. You should have seen the habitat he made for them. I took pictures. I'm going to change one of the reptile exhibits for Asian Experience the same way. Aren't they great?”

I didn't remember the conversation. “And this herp-head gave them to the zoo?”

“He's moving to California and can't keep them all. I traded some excellent comics for these. He's a collector.”

Uh oh. This I would have remembered. “Denny, the zoo didn't buy these? You arranged the sale? I don't think you ever mentioned that part.”

“No worries. I said it was a donation. And it is. From me.”

“Denny, I do not want to know anything more about how the zoo got these…things. Please, please, never mention my name in this context.”

He looked puzzled and hurt. “Anyone can buy them on line. Expensive, though.” His enthusiasm swept back. “Aren't they cool? They'll get bigger, a lot bigger. Forty pounds and up. One of the most primitive tortoises. I have to find out how old they are before they breed. The female doesn't dig a hole for eggs. She actually builds a nest and guards it for a few days after she lays the eggs. Very unusual for a chelonian. Oh, and they grunt and moan during sex. Extremely vocal.”

I edged away. “Dr. Reynolds knows about them?”

“Of course. That's where I'm coming from. They're just out of quarantine. They're perfect for the new Asian exhibit.”

“I'm happy for you, and I hope you don't get fired for illegal acquisitioning.”

He bounced off, still jubilant.

I gazed at his back, hoping he hadn't figured out yet another way to get into trouble with zoo management. What was left of zoo management. Please let this turtle not be on the endangered species list.

At the hospital, I looked around the reception area and the hallway without finding the owl set out in a box for me to pick up. Nor was Dr. Reynolds in her office. I stuck my head in the the necropsy room. She wasn't there either.

Farther along were three little quarantine rooms and the sound of hosing came from one of them. I opened the door, not to go in, which was forbidden since it was, after all, a quarantine room, but to ask Kayla where the owl was.

Kayla was hosing the floor near the door with her back to me. I glimpsed three rabbits in a cage, no doubt intended for the Children's Zoo, and a fennec fox that I remembered hearing about. The beautiful little canine was an ill-advised pet of somebody Mr. Crandall had to please and therefore Dr. Reynolds had to treat. “Kayla!” I hollered over hose noise. She jumped a foot, and in an instant I was soaked from head to toe. She shut the hose off at the nozzle, and we faced each other, equally amazed. “And a fine morning to you, too,” I sputtered, wiping my face on a wet sleeve.

“Hi, Iris. Sorry. You startled me.”

No kidding.

“I'll be done in a minute.” She went back to hosing.

Just “sorry?” I dripped outside, trying to decide how mad I was. I decided and started rummaging in the supply closets lined up along the hallway across from the quarantine rooms. I found clean towels in one. Another was a utility closet for mops and brooms with a big sink on the floor.

The sound of hosing stopped. I waited in the hallway by the door drying my face and hair with a little white towel while Kayla presumably put the hose away and wiped down the floor with a squeegee. The door opened, and she stepped out.

My pitch was good. Two and a half gallons of water arced out of the bucket and landed on her chest. It wasn't precision work, of course, and a fair amount hit her head. Face, actually.

Kayla reacted with the same paralysis I had, but it was brief. I flung the towel away and was galloping down the hall when she reacted, but she was close on my heels when I reached the bathroom. That woman was quick, and I was racing under weights. I yanked open the door and slammed it behind me. I had to lean my full self on the door to get it closed and shoot the bolt. Panting, I shouted, “Serves you right! You got me first.”

“It was an
accident
, and I am going to
kill
you!” She slammed her shoulder against the door, which didn't split. Better construction than I expected. “Yellow-livered chicken! Coward! Scaredy-cat! Yellow belly! Come out and fight like a woman.”

Then silence. A standoff. I'd run out of strategy, and I couldn't spend the rest of my life barricaded in the hospital bathroom dripping on the tiles. For one thing, someone might want to pee. For another, I had work to do. Time was against me. “Now we're even. Truce?” I yelled through the door. Weak. She would never go for it, and she would figure something out pretty fast, something evil.

Silence. I waited, wondering what she was up to, and decided it was safer not to give her much time. I opened the door a crack, my foot positioned to block any assault. No Kayla. I threw caution to the winds and stepped out.

Screaming like a banshee, Kayla leaped at me, all ten fingernails arching toward my face. I fell back against the wall and threw up my arms. She doubled over, choking with glee. “You look like…like…” Words failed her.

“A drowned gerbil,” I suggested and slid laughing to the floor with my back against the wall. I climbed right back up. “Uh-oh!”

Kayla started to say something, but I pointed down the hall behind her.

Detective Quintana stood a safe distance back. “Whatever happened to you two better not happen to me. I've got a gun.”

“Yessir,” I said. “How may we help you?”

Kayla stifled a giggle.

He said, “I thought I might have a chat with Dr. Reynolds, but I suppose I could arrest you both for assault with a liquid weapon.”

A joke? From Detective Quintana? A giggle escaped me. No, more dignified than that. Sort of a chortle.

Kayla said, “She's not in her office?” At his sober nod, “She'll be done with her rounds and back any minute. Why don't you take a seat in the reception area by the front door? Can I get you a cup of…” She made a snorting noise. “…water?”

“Thanks for the offer, but no.” He retreated back the way he'd come.

“About that owl…” I said. Best to keep her distracted.

Kayla sobered up. “He's in Room 3. Could you catch him up? He's the only thing in there, so it should be okay as far as quarantine goes.” She shed her soggy lab coat, which had done little to protect the low-necked, short-sleeve top underneath. It was pale green and now almost translucent, revealing a lacy little bra. Her necklace was jade leaves. Kayla found another of the white towels, swiped at her hair and chest, and gave it up.

The owl anticipated the worst from me, but he was stuck in a small cage and his talons were ineffective against the leather gloves Kayla provided. He put up a fight when I grabbed his legs with more vigor than he'd shown the day before. Dr. Reynolds' lice treatment, rehydration, and a couple of shots had perked him up considerably. I corralled the wings and stuffed him into a fresh cardboard box for the journey home. Kayla pointed out the bottle of anti-lice cleanser Dr. Reynolds had set out for me to use on all the raptor exhibits. I stuck it into a damp pocket.

Kayla walked me to the front door. Quintana wasn't there, so Dr. Reynolds had come back or else he'd given up. She said, “Even though you're a total puke, I can't tell you how glad I am that you're doing the elephant thing. Is it working out okay?”

Once upon a time I wore jeans like hers, jeans with a waist. “No problems. I take it you don't want the job back, even though Damrey's cleared.”

“Nope. It's all yours. She tried to smack me, and I think those elephant people are all kidding themselves. And being in that barn makes my clothes and hair smell like elephants for the rest of the day.”

“Kayla, just wondering—did you ever see anyone leaving the elephant barn early, before the keepers got there?”

“Dr. Reynolds and the police and that committee asked me. No, I never did.” She slumped into one of the chairs.

The box with the owl wasn't heavy, but it was awkward. I set it down on the little coffee table. “If you remember anything else, let me know.”

“Why? I mean, why are you so interested?”

Good question. I punted. “We all want to know what happened, right? Everyone's trying to figure it out.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. I guess Damrey really didn't do it. But I don't want to be around them anymore.” She made a face.

“Elephant phobic? Can't afford to be if you're going to work here.” Like I had the right to lecture.

“It's a one-year job. Jean—Dr. Reynolds—said she'll try to get funding to keep me for another year. But even my old clinic job paid better than this.”

“So working here is just to pay the bills?” I thought of all the people eager to work with exotic animals, the flood of applications for every zoo position posted to the public.

Kayla shrugged. “I'll stay if Dr. Reynolds wants me to. She saved my bacon. I left the clinic when I got a job as office manager at a business that imports bamboo flooring, but the son of the owner and I…well, he pissed me off, and I quit.” She touched her jade necklace. “This was the best thing I got out of
that
relationship.”

“Beautiful.”

“Anyway, then I couldn't find a thing and was totally depressed. I've got the vet tech degree
and
a bookkeeping certification and couldn't find anything. I was a mess, and Jean pulled me out by the scruff of my neck. She was the dorm mentor in my freshman year in college, and we stayed friends. She's the one who's always there for me. I wish there was a career path for me here.”

“I barely made it through two years of college.” Marcie had gotten me through those two years and thought I should finish up. She apparently didn't have the same clout as Dr. Jean Reynolds, or I was a tougher case than Kayla. “Maybe you'll get addicted to the zoo. I did. I started here as a volunteer with the education animals at school programs. A keeper position opened up, and here I am. Senior keeper is as far as
my
ambition goes.”

Kayla stood up and plucked at the front of her blouse to unstick it from her skin. “I like being around the animals, and I like the people, especially Mr. Crandall. He's such a sweetie. Mr. Wallace was always nice, too.”

Zoo management had never eaten out of
my
hand.

She combed through her wet hair with her fingers and shook her head to settle it back down. “I've got meds to do.”

I nodded. “Nice hosing with you.”

“Back at you.”

Outside, I remembered I was supposed to find Dr. Reynolds and tell her about the ugly note from A Team Mom. Some other time. I stopped for a moment to study the area by the hospital where the van with Rajah had been parked. A black sedan was there now, presumably Quintana's. Whoever stole the van would have driven it back the way we'd come and gone left through the perimeter gate to Finley Road.

Getting the van through the perimeter gate would be no problem—it was on a motion detector to let delivery and service vehicles out. Getting in required punching a code on a key pad, a code Hap shared with delivery companies. Maintenance staff knew the code also, but since I never used that gate, I didn't. I knew the one for the employee parking lot farther down.

Around the corner of the hospital from where I stood was Dr. Reynolds' office. The day had turned warm, which I appreciated in my sodden condition, and the window was open. It was not my fault that I could hear her voice.

“…hardly relevant and due to circumstances that won't occur again. I can't see how it will help your investigation to damage my reputation at this zoo, and it certainly won't help the zoo. My professional competence was never in question.”

I couldn't make out the words from Quintana's deep voice and stepped closer.

“Yes, of course. I'm not going anywhere.” She sounded angry and maybe a little sad.

More from Quintana.

She said, “I'll let you know if anything else occurs. You know your way out.”

I took my owl and stepped away from the building, Rajah forgotten for the moment. Dr. Reynolds was the last person I would ever think was hiding something. Something that Quintana had found out and come to talk to her about. Something Kevin Wallace had found out?

I heard the car behind me and stepped to the side of the road to let Quintana drive by. He gave me a little wave. I watched the gate open as he pulled up in front of it. He waited and drove through, turning onto Finley Road.

Across the road, near the employee parking lot gate, stretched a grassy hill with a few trees on top. A bird watcher sat halfway up the hill with binoculars obscuring his face, a backpack at his feet. The man was facing the zoo, not the best habitat for wild birds. No pileated woodpecker or western tanager around that I could see. An Anna's hummingbird tweeze-tweezed on a phone line above me, bushtits zipped around in a maple on the zoo side of the visitor fence. I took one more look around at the van's probable path and gave it up.