The Anteater of Death (22 page)

Looking hung over, with red eyes but at least a different tee shirt than he’d worn the night of my attack, Walt carried a handful of wildflowers. “How you doing, tiger?” His breath still smelled like the Budweiser brewery.

I beckoned him closer for a kiss. Cheek-peck duly rendered, I said, “I hear you helped save my life.”

He shrugged, then winced, as if the movement hurt him. “All in a day’s work.”

I thanked him for the flowers, and stuffed them into the water glass on my nightstand, since if I didn’t, my mother would throw out such a proletarian offering. We chatted for a while about boats and things, but when Caro grew increasingly restless, I asked him the question that had nagged me all night. “Do you know how long Roarke had been with me when you arrived?”

“It could only have been seconds. I’d just gotten back to the
Running Wild
and was taking a leak over the side when I heard what sounded like a scuffle. So I zipped up and went to investigate. That’s when I saw Roarke bending over you. Then I saw some guy running off and I went after him, but I…Well, I wasn’t moving all that good. I was…”

“Drunk,” I finished for him.

“Yeah. He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry about my behavior at Fred’s and what I said to you. It’s the stress. We’re all worried about what’ll happen to our boats with the new harbor ordinances. None of us wants to move to another marina.”

“I don’t either.”

“I know. That’s why when I called you a…”

Time to stop the guilt-wallowing. “I’ve been called worse. Hey, what’s it like outside? Morning fog burned off yet?”

“An hour ago.”

We chatted until Caro, whose eyes had never once left him, said, “You’ll have to leave now, Mister McAdams. My daughter needs her rest.” With a look of distain, she added, “And shame on you, urinating into the harbor!”

She hustled him out the door, following close behind to make sure he didn’t steal the silver.

I lay there, hoping Joe would visit but knowing he wouldn’t. Eventually, bored out of my mind, I wobbled over to my bookcase and took down
The Hidden Staircase
, an old Nancy Drew mystery I’d loved as a teen. After reading a couple of chapters, I dozed off.

Caro woke me when she opened the door again. “Another visitor,” she announced, ushering in Roarke with great ceremony. He bore flowers, too, a professionally-arranged bouquet of color-coordinated chrysanthemums and petunias offset by a sleek calilysis.

“How are you?” He handed the flowers to my mother, who before I could stop her, scurried off to find an appropriate vase.

Not sure how I felt about being left alone with him, I gave him the best smile I could manage. “Fine, except for a headache. And thanks for what you did last night. I owe you one.”

“You’d have done the same for me. Frieda would’ve come along, too, but the poor girl’s suffering from morning sickness.”

We talked pregnancy and boats until Caro returned, bearing his expensive bouquet in the small Ming vase she’d hidden from the feds during their property-grabbing rampage. “Aren’t Roarke’s flowers beautiful, Teddy?”

Yes, they were, and too slick for my taste. I preferred Walt’s wildflowers. Feeling safer now that she’d returned, I asked Roarke why he’d left the restaurant to usher me home.

“Are you kidding? Those liveaboarders were baying for blood. You didn’t show great judgment by leaving right after that drunk fireman.”

“The others were as angry as Walt, most of them just as drunk. And they were still there. So why’d you leave Frieda anywhere near them?”

He gave me an accusing look. “Nothing bad could happen to her at Fred’s.”

“How trusting. By the way, did you happen to catch a glimpse of the man who attacked me? Walt was here earlier and said you reached me first.”

He shook his head. “The guy took off as soon as he heard me. Like I told the sheriff, I saw somebody in dark pants and a dark hoodie running toward the parking lot, and Walt staggered after him for a few steps. I don’t think either of us could tell you the color of his hair or whether he was tall or short, fat or thin. The fog was too thick.”

After Roake left, I lay in my turquoise and lime room staring at the ceiling. It had been two weeks since I discovered Grayson dead in the anteater enclosure, and I was no closer to discovering who killed him than before. All I knew for sure was that it hadn’t been Zorah. What if…?

My train of thought was broken when the door opened and my father walked in bearing a big pitcher of orange juice and two glasses. “I wanted to add some champagne to celebrate your great escape, but your mother wouldn’t let me. I don’t remember her being that bossy.”

“Your memory must be failing,” I said, as he poured for us.

He laughed briefly, then his face grew grave. “I’m glad you’re feeling so perky again, but how many more visitors do you expect? I’ve been hiding in the attic all morning and I’m wondering if I should go back to Al’s for a while. It’s been wonderful being with your mother again, but if anyone sees me…”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence. With Joe and Chuckles Fitzgerald both on the alert, my father’s presence in Gunn Landing was getting more and more problematical.

A hesitant knock at the door sent him scurrying into my closet, where he scrunched himself among plastic and lavender-wrapped prom dresses and riding habits. Putting a finger against his lips, he softly shut the door.

Caro stuck her head into the room, obviously unaware that she’d interrupted my father in the midst of a visit. “Another gentleman caller.”

When she opened the door wider, I saw Barry Fields almost hidden behind a huge bouquet of long-stemmed roses. Taken off guard, I pulled up the covers around my neck, which sent Miss Priss flying. DJ Bonz gave the zoo director a brief growl, then went back to sleep.

“My poor Teddy!” Barry rushed toward me, roses flapping. “When I heard what happened…” Considering that he wasn’t a professional actor, he gave a pretty decent performance. His voice choked with emotion and he displayed all the appropriate body language, but his eyes were as calculating as an IRS tax auditor’s. No doubt he was running an inventory of the expensive goodies he’d seen since entering the house.

I gave him a feeble smile. “I’ll be back to work tomorrow.”

“No you won’t!” Caro rose from the chair. “Not with that disgusting anteater and those vicious bears! You’re not going back to that messy boat, either!”

“Yes I am!”

Barry groveled for a few seconds at my bedside, his eyes glued to the Ming. Then, forcing his attentions away from the vase, he took my hand. “Your mother knows what’s best for you, dear.”

Dear.
I almost lost my chorizo omelet. “The dizziness is gone, my vision’s cleared, and my memory’s back.” I snatched my hand away and wiped it surreptitiously on the lime green comforter. “All I need is rest. Thanks for stopping by.”

I slid further underneath the covers and closed my eyes. A moment later, I heard the door close.

When it was safe, I peeked out from under the comforter. “Dad, you can come out now!”

He emerged from the closet. “You’re drawing too much heat. As soon as that jackass leaves the house, I’m going back to Al’s.” With that, he left, trailing a scent of lavender.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I crawled out of bed and threw on my clothes. I’d had enough of this.

The
Merilee
might be a mess, but at least she was
my
mess.

***

The next day I returned to the zoo, my hair combed carefully over the shaved spot. At first it looked like I’d merely exchanged my mother’s over-protective behavior for my fellow zookeepers’ concerns, but unlike her, they got the message and backed off. All except for Zorah, who insisted on shadowing me during the early part of my rounds.

“I want to make sure you don’t keel over,” she explained, jumping down from her cart to help me lift feed buckets at the commissary.

“It was just a bump on the head.”

“Some bump. Did your mom tell you I stopped by the hospital to see you?”

I vaguely remembered my mother saying something about a big Amazon asking to see me, but I’d been too fuzzy at that point for visits. “Yes, she did, and I appreciate it. But I’m fine now. If I do start feeling sick, you’ll be the first person I radio.”

“Promise?”

“Scout’s honor.” I’d never been a Girl Scout.

She inspected my radio to make sure it was functioning. It was.

“Zorah, could I please get on with my work?”

With an unhappy expression, she jumped back into her cart and drove off.

Nothing would ever make me believe that a woman who cared that much for others could murder anyone, no matter the provocation. All right, so she’d once roughed up a man who had attempted to feed a razor blade to one of our animals. But murder? It simply wasn’t possible. To think of my friend facing a murder trial…I couldn’t bear it.

I would keep searching for the truth, no matter how much danger was involved.

***

When I arrived at Tropics Trail, Lucy was so busy pacing from one end of her enclosure to the other that she hardly gave me a glance.

Although long fur hid her belly, it seemed to have grown much larger in the two days I’d been gone. Her pacing worried me, too. Now that she was out of the small holding pen she should have settled down, but except for that one brief moment of joy on her first day of freedom, she remained anxious. Perhaps, since her baby was due within the week, she desired a more suitable place to give birth than her old bamboo-covered dog house. With that in mind, I hopped back into my cart and went to pick up more hay. I’d toss a few flakes into her enclosure and let her figure out how to arrange them. Regardless of species, most females preferred to do their own decorating.

Within minutes of my heaving the hay over the back fence, she started fluffing it around, raking it this way and that. When she’d created a large hump a few feet behind her doghouse, she plopped down in the middle and rolled around for a while, manipulating the hay into a giant anteater-sized bed. Once she appeared to get stuck on her back, but finally managed to right herself. With a satisfied grunt, she backed off and began sucking termites from a faux log.

By the time I made it to the wolves’ enclosure, I found a crowd gathered near their outer fence. To the noisy delight of several teenagers, Cisco and Godiva were joyously mating as the other wolves watched with varying degrees of interest.

Not everyone was pleased. A harassed-looking mother approached me and begged, “Please do something. I drove the kids all the way up from Carmel to teach them about endangered species, and now…” She pointed to a small group of six intrigued children, whose ages ranged all the way from toddler to middle-schooler.

Our animals’ public sexuality was a common cause of complaint. These days, few people are raised on ranches or farms and therefore don’t understand that animals had no concept of privacy or shame. I tried explaining the facts of zoo life to the woman, but she didn’t get it.

“Put them back in their den until they stop.”

“If I tried that, ma’am, I’d get my hand bit off. Cisco doesn’t like to be interrupted during his, ah, romantic encounters. But here’s a thought. Mexican gray wolves mate for life. It might be a good lesson to teach your children, that lifelong marriage—even among animals—remains a possibility in this promiscuous old world.” Although not all that common, I’d begun to believe, remembering promiscuous old Michael.

“So there’s nothing you can do?”

“How about…?” I tried to think of an animal guaranteed not to indulge in public mating behavior. Not the monkeys, that was for sure. Or the happy capybaras. But there was one animal whose sexual behavior was as pure as a cloistered nun’s. “Our anteater might be a nice animal for your children to visit. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and she’s only a few yards away on Tropics Trail. If you want, I’ll walk you over there.”

A frown. “Are you talking about the animal who killed that poor man? Some life lesson
that
would be!” She gathered her children and pulled them away from the wolf exhibit. With a glare, she headed toward Africa Trail, where I’d seen the giraffes mating a few minutes ago. I was tempted to run after her with a warning, then decided to let the Africa Trail keepers deal with her. One thing was certain. By the end of the day, her children would know they hadn’t been delivered via stork.

I was ready to go around to the back of the wolves’ enclosure to portion out their meal when I heard an unwelcome voice.

“Ah, spring, with love in the air.”

Barry.

He sidled up to me, and slid an arm around my waist. “How’s my girl today? Feeling all better? You look like you could use a good steak dinner.”

Before I could escape, Jack Spence picked that moment to drive up the pathway in his cart. The last thing I wanted was for the other keepers to get the idea that something was going on between the zoo director and me. I tried to move away, but Barry tightened his grip.

“I have to finish up my chores here, so if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to work.”

Too late. Jack’s cart screeched to a stop right in front of us. “Hi, Teddy! How’s your head? And, uh, Barry, what are you…?”

Oh, hell. When Jack wasn’t telling the spectacled bears about the restoration he was doing on his ’76 Chevy Malibu, he gossiped with humans. Soon everyone at the zoo would suspect that my relationship to the zoo director was something other than professional.

I tried to make the situation seem innocent. “Mister Fields stopped by to see how I was feeling. Didn’t you, sir?” I punctuated the question with an elbow to his ribs.

Barry either didn’t get it or refused to. Hugging me closer, he said, “My girl here sure took a big knock on the head, didn’t she?” He then proceeded to make matters worse. “I stopped by to see her yesterday, you know, at her mother’s estate in Old Town. Such a beautiful place! I took along a dozen long-stemmed roses. Nothing’s too good for my girl.”

My girl.
His fixation on the phrase did not bode well. All the keepers hated him, and if they thought we’d hooked up, they’d hate me right long with him unless I told the truth. Yet how could I? The real reason behind our dinner “date” would eventually get back to him and he’d take his revenge by penning Lucy up again.