Did Not Survive (20 page)

I was raised in the Northwest, and I'd picked feral blackberries most summers since I was old enough to walk. This thicket might be impenetrable, and it might not. I worked tight along the fence and found that only tender new growth blocked my way. The blackberries had been hacked back, perhaps the previous fall. New shoots of Himalayan blackberries carry thorns almost as wicked as those on old canes, but they can be bent out of the way, if you wear gloves or are careful where you grab them. It got easier as I worked my way in and under the cottonwood, where the berries were shaded out. I wasn't the first. The ground was trampled, the thin grass smashed flat. On the other side of the fence was the solid bulk of the manure shed.

At the base of the big cottonwood a thick, gnarled limb had snapped off, probably from its own weight and a little wind. One end had jammed itself into the dirt, the once-leafy end leaned against the trunk. Like any cougar, I walked up, boots solid on the rough bark. It was an easy climb to another big limb that had been cut off three or four feet from the top of the fence. The roof of the manure shed was less than a dozen feet away and the same height as the limb I stood on.

There was a secret here.

I stood in the tree ten feet above the ground and tried to figure it out. It took awhile because the system was dismantled and because I wasted time picturing how to jump to the fence, crawl through the wire, and drop to the ground. Maybe Delta Force could do it, but it would hardly be convenient.

An impression in the thick moss next to my boots showed me the method. A plank to cross the gap. It would rest on the cut end of the branch where I stood, slide below the lowest strand of barbed wire to rest on the top of the fence—metal pipe—and end up on the roof of the shed. Three strands of barbed wire impeded this elevated path. I favored a layer of carpet scrap to get over that. And a rope ladder to hook on the top of the fence for a quick return. Walk the plank, cross over the barbed wire, drop to the ground, and it was a short stroll to the barn's back door, which was keyed the same as the front door.

Perhaps Thor Thorson kept a rope ladder in his gray and blue backpack. Did Quintana even know that Thor existed?

This access was used once or many times? No way to tell. Remove the plank, carpet, and ladder and hide them in the blackberries or, better, put them in your car. Come and go, with the shed to hide your entry and exit. Risky, though. Better to do it at night. Or early in the morning before the staff arrived.

I slid carefully back down and crawled around in the thicket looking for the plank and getting thorns jabbed into my palms. No luck. I stood up and pushed out of the thicket on a thin little trail I'd missed. I stepped on an empty Camel's package and stopped to pick it up. Ian smoked Camels. The logo was a handsome dromedary, a beast inexplicably considered ugly and ungainly by many. I put the package in my pocket to think about later.

I walked toward my car, and turned back to scan the tangle of vegetation. The trail wasn't that hard to spot. My woodcraft failed because I was distracted by the decaying sleeping bag. I would bet my next paycheck that Detective Quintana had blackberry scratches on his hands. I got into my Honda and started home. I should come back in August to pick berries. No, come to think of it, I'd be pretty busy in August.

Chapter Twenty-three

I found a message on my home phone from Neal asking me to work though my weekend. No surprise. Sam had quit and Calvin was in prison. The upshot was that the zoo's animal department was short-staffed. I called back—he was still at his desk at seven o'clock in the evening—and agreed, but called him again after thinking it over. “I need to leave early if I can get the basics done. I need some rest.” He didn't argue. I felt a faint sympathy for him, dependent on a keeper with belly and ankles both swelling.

So Thursday morning I was thinking lick-and-a-promise—feed, clean, go home. I was not prepared for an unscheduled keeper meeting. I'd learned better than to even consider skipping it. Keepers trickled into the auditorium, where I sat grumpy and low energy between Linda and Kayla, Denny a row back. This meeting could cost me an hour.

Mr. Crandall was not present. Neal Humboldt radiated tight-wound energy at the front of the room, pacing with quick glances at the audience. Dr. Reynolds also stood in front, off to one side, looking at the floor with her back rigid. I glanced at Kayla, wondering why the two weren't joined at the hip as usual. Kayla was stony faced and still.

“What's up?” I hissed at her. She pretended she didn't hear me.

I raised an eyebrow at Linda, who made a “beats me” face. “How are the cubs?” I whispered.

“At the hospital,” she whispered back.

“What?”

Linda leaned close. “The Species Survival Plan coordinator for clouded leopards called and leaned on Dr. Reynolds about hand rearing. She changed her mind and pulled them.”

“You didn't call me.”

“I just found out on the way here.”

“Wow.”

Linda bobbed her head. “Dr. Reynolds said the SSP guys want to pair up the cubs before they're six months old. Give them a playmate that grows into a real mate. Cuts down on the male aggression. So we may ship them out in a few months.”

I knew that the cubs wouldn't stay forever. The whole point of breeding Losa and Yuri was to help create a self-sustaining captive population and that meant coordinating with other zoos. Still, I hated to think of losing them so soon. I sat back wondering if I'd ever be able to keep up emotionally. Then I wondered why Kayla wasn't thrilled at getting to handle the cubs every day. She looked like her dog died.

“Okay, okay.” Neal called the meeting to order. “I'm sure you are all aware of the big picture right now. The bottom line is staffing shortages as well as a number of process failures and other challenges.” He took a breath and charged on rapid-fire. “I am resourcing staff as fast as possible, but we need quality as much as head count. I've got feelers out for experienced personnel and my expectation is to have temps on board in a day or two, next week at the latest, at least two FTEs. I'm also fast-tracking the hiring process for permanent positions, but fast turns out to mean slow given the existing human resource procedures. A senior keeper position is open and in-house applications are welcome. Any questions?”

Denny said, “What did you say? Can you diagram that on the board or something?”

Neal lasered him with intense blue eyes. He spoke slowly, enunciating carefully. “Two temporary keepers start soon. I will hire two permanent keepers. Keepers can apply for the senior keeper position.” He paused. “Would you like me to go over this again, off-line?”

Denny shook his head. “No, I get it now. Thanks for the translation. English is my first language.”

Neal's look indicated there would be consequences for lip. “In the meantime, I'll be talking to you individually about opportunities for overtime. I appreciate your flexibility.”

Was this all the meeting was about? Could we go now?

Neal said, “Dr. Reynolds needs to speak to you also.”

The slim veterinarian stepped forward and faced us. Short white lab jacket and brown pants, brown hair falling straight behind her shoulders, a plain green shirt—she looked like somebody's lab assistant. Neal faded to a back corner. She scanned the room—keepers, Hap, gardeners, maintenance guys, even George the security guard. Neal's announcement was of interest only to keepers. Why were maintenance and gardeners here? Why George?

Dr. Reynolds clasped her hands together in front and spoke in a voice not at all like a lab assistant, more like the lab's top director. “Recently we've faced some terrible challenges. Kevin Wallace was murdered. Calvin Lorenz is in jail for the crime. Sam Bates has left. We have had to perform our jobs to the best of our abilities despite the emotional toll these events have taken.”

She looked strained. And something else. Anger?

The vet continued. “No matter what else happens, the welfare of the animals under our care is our most important responsibility. I think we can agree on that.” Her glance around the room dared anyone to differ.

“What I have to say applies to only a few of you. As for the rest, please be assured you have my respect for your excellent work.” She crossed her arms over her chest and spoke in a voice that could etch steel. “Be aware that I will not tolerate any action that impairs my ability, our ability, to maintain animal health. I've discussed this with Neal, and, while he reserves the power to terminate staff, he supports me in this. You cross these lines at peril of your job.”

Yipes. Yes, anger. Her audience was silent as death.

“
No one
will ignore my orders that animals are not to be disturbed, not keepers, not maintenance staff. Communications broke down in regard to the clouded leopard. That will not happen again.” Her head bobbed. Her gaze fixed on us. “Maintenance and Security departments will do their jobs so that a zoo van
with a tiger in it
will not vanish without a trace. The physical boundaries of this zoo
will be
secure.” Head bob and a pause. “Security and keeper staff will ensure that
all animals are accounted for at all times
. Two turtles disappeared from their exhibit and presumably left the grounds. This will not happen again without serious consequences.” She looked around the room. “And
no one
will enter the necropsy room without my permission. The locks will be changed
today
and, for now, I will have the only key.” Her voice wavered with suppressed fury.

I glanced at Linda and caught similar twitches through the room. What was this last ultimatum about?

Dr. Reynolds said more quietly, “You may not have heard yet. I cannot perform a necropsy on the clouded leopard cub that died. The cub has disappeared. It presumably was discarded into the trash and removed to land fill. No one can tell me how this happened. There is no possible justification for
anyone
to move that cub.” Hard brown eyes raked us. “This is not your personal animal playground. This is a professional zoological institution that will adhere to the highest standards of care. That is all. Go back to work.”

She and Neal left by the door at the front of the auditorium. The rest of the audience filed quietly out the double doors at the back. I stood to leave, but Kayla was still in her seat, blocking my way. She was doubled over with her face in her hands. “She thinks I did it. She thinks I threw out that cub. I didn't
do
it,” she sobbed. “I don't
know
how it happened. It wasn't
me.
” Of course. She had access to all the rooms at the hospital. She would be the first person suspected. Linda patted her on the shoulder. Kayla finally rose. “Should I quit?” she asked us. “What should I do? We were
friends.
”

I shook my head. “Do your job. That's all you
can
do. Maybe the cub will turn up.”

Kayla edged out of the aisle and we followed. Linda grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the others, toward the front of the room. “Did you know about the cub disappearing?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I feel like I've been punched in the mouth.”

Linda gazed into the distance, biting her lip. “Arnie. He took that cub because the necropsy would show it was perfectly healthy and his fault that it died.”

“Whoa, Linda! You can't be sure of that. Arnie is used to problems solving themselves without him lifting a finger. Would he even think of that?”

“Don't defend him! He's left Kayla taking the heat. I'm talking to Dr. Reynolds.”

I watched her dodge past slow-moving Kayla and stride toward the Administration building, where Dr. Reynolds might have gone with Neal.

I stood in the auditorium as it quieted, listening to the echoes of the meeting. Was Denny right? A malicious intelligence at work? That sounded like a low-budget horror flick. Weeks after Wallace was attacked, we were no closer to understanding what had happened. The police were still holding Calvin. Maybe they truly believed he was guilty. That was what I needed to focus on now. Calvin. The rest would have to wait.

After lunch, I phoned Detective Quintana, who was, as usual, not in or at least not answering. I left a message that I'd remembered some information I wanted to share. “But I don't like police stations and I'm going to be starved, so let's talk at a restaurant.” I said I'd be at the Thai Orchid on Washington Street in downtown Vancouver at six o'clock. Neutral territory.

By that point, it was clear that I would not be clocking out early. In fact, I accurately predicted that I would leave work an hour late. I departed weary and bitter that I'd barely managed the basics despite showing up on time and avoiding distractions.

The Thai Orchid was pretty and soothing, full of lovely pottery and paintings. Even better, they had food, which was far more important than whether or not Quintana showed up. I was inhaling spring rolls when he slid into the other side of the booth. I stopped in time to leave him half a roll, shoving the plate toward him. He shook his head, so I pulled the plate back and ate it.

“Let's hear what you've got,” he said in his gravelly voice. “Friends are coming for dinner, and my wife won't be happy if I'm late.”

My chicken Pad Thai showed up before I could say anything, and my verbal abilities shut down until I'd eaten most of it.

“That waiter nearly lost a finger,” he noted. “Do they normally feed you from a forked stick?”

I sat back and sighed. “I'm eating for two, and one of us is a wolverine. I can't help it.”

Cups of jasmine tea had materialized on the table. We sipped. He shooed away the waiter.

“So,” he said, and fixed me with his penetrating, already-disappointed stare.

“So. Calvin Lorenz. You know he's trying to protect Janet, his daughter.”

No reaction.

I went on. “You're not stupid. You must have figured out that Calvin believes his daughter offed Kevin Wallace. Maybe he heard about that nasty email Janet sent Wallace, and she told him something about being happy he was dead. She really does hate him. Maybe Calvin figured out she could have copied his zoo keys. I think you started that rumor at the zoo that an arrest was about to be made, that you set it up to see who bolted. I passed it on to him, Calvin panicked and confessed, and you're holding him until Janet shows up.”

Detective Quintana looked bored.

I soldiered on. “I figure either
she
panicked and ran away because she thought the email made her a suspect, or else she took the kids to Garibaldi to go crabbing and hasn't heard that her dad fell on his sword for her.” Come to think of it, I might have helped trigger her flight by my original visit. First the cops, then me might have been too much for her nerves. I didn't see any reason to mention this. “Have you found her yet?” I waited a bit and sighed. “This would be easier if you said something now and then.”

“It's your show. I'm still hoping that you'll come up with something useful.”

I'd decided not to mention Denny's cut tires and loaded brownie unless I had to. That was likely to backfire. Instead I said, “Pull up your sleeve.” That surprised him. I pushed back my own sleeve. He frowned, but he unbuttoned the cuff of his blue shirt and slid it up, pulling back his dark jacket sleeve as well. I leaned forward and inspected the back of his hand and wrist. They looked much like mine, except for being hairy and bigger. “I'd say you've been messing with blackberries and got scratched up a little. You found the route into the back of the zoo. I'm not sure what that tells us. Janet couldn't have gotten in that way, and Calvin had no reason to.”

He pulled his cuff back down and rebuttoned it. In an uninterested, neutral voice he said, “Why couldn't Janet have used it?”

“Ah. You
haven't
found her. She's really big. Not a climber. So if Janet did it, she came in some other way. I should have seen her when I ran to the elephant barn. I'm not saying she didn't do it, just that I can't figure out how.”

A mistake. I'd accidentally tricked him into revealing information, and now he was mad. “Ms. Oakley, withholding information about a homicide is a crime with serious penalties. If you have information you have not yet shared with us, this would be the time to do it.”

“You should eat something. The shrimp cakes are good.” I meant well, thinking it might improve his mood, but my suggestion fueled the ire lurking in his sagging face. I said, “Look, I called it wrong at the beginning and led you astray. I really thought Damrey had trampled Wallace to death. I'm not an elephant keeper, and I didn't understand what she was doing. I'm trying to work with you here, trying to give you information that you can only get from a zoo employee.”

One side of his face winced in a skeptical way.

“My father does that silence thing, but it works out a lot better. I think you should talk to me. Like about whatever Dr. Reynolds' big secret is. Was it enough for her to kill Wallace if he found out? You know they were dating…”

This didn't cut any ice. “Let's make this clear, Ms. Oakley. There is no way I'm going to share confidential information with you. In fact, all this scrambling around you are doing makes me think I should take a much closer look at
your
relationship with Kevin Wallace.”