Whales and a Watery Grave: Mystery (Madigan Amos Zoo Mysteries Book 7)

Home > Mystery > Whales and a Watery Grave: Mystery (Madigan Amos Zoo Mysteries Book 7) > Page 21
Whales and a Watery Grave: Mystery (Madigan Amos Zoo Mysteries Book 7) Page 21

by Ruby Loren


  “I’ll help you look if you let me know what it is,” I said.

  “No, no… it’s fine.”

  We made eye contact and somehow I knew… there was something Patrick didn’t want me to see in the file.

  He made a grab for it and having a longer reach than I did, he managed to swipe it away. But I’d got a few fingers to it and the contents of the file slipped out, scattering papers and pamphlets across the floor.

  Patrick threw me a look of pure annoyance and got down on his hands and knees. “It’s just something personal. I want it back,” he said, using this weird, falsely reassuring tone.

  I looked down at the floor by my feet and happened to see the contract for the animal activist show. Acting on instinct, I picked it up and opened it to the central spread. Nestled in the pages was what looked like a folded sheet of paper with a signature just visible. I glanced over at Patrick, who had turned his back, rifling through the papers on the floor. I subtly unfolded the letter, scanning it as I did so.

  It had been sent by a law firm. It read that Leona’s mother had instructed the letter to be sent when Leona was 21, but they hadn’t managed to locate a fixed address for her until recently. I privately thought that they couldn’t have been trying very hard. After the intro was a stapled, handwritten note from her mother. She wrote of her regret at having to give Leona up, due to the disease she herself had discovered she was suffering from and was leaving to seek help with controlling. She shared her hopes and prayers that Leona would live a long and healthy life. Then, she revealed the identity of Leona Richards’ father.

  I looked up and discovered that Patrick had stopped searching and was watching me.

  “You know,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

  “You’re her father.” I bit my tongue to keep from saying the next part. It was all too obvious why Patrick had wanted to cover up the fact that he was Leona’s father.

  It was because he’d killed her.

  He shook his head at me and I knew with certainty that he wasn’t going to let me walk out of this room alive.

  “If you give me the letter, we can forget about this,” he said, maintaining that creepy soothing tone.

  “Forget that you killed her?” He’d already read the truth from my face. I may as well come out and say it. “I saw you walk by with a drink tray. You had come from her caravan. One of them had her pills in,” I deduced. When the colour drained from Patrick’s face, I knew I was right.

  “You can’t prove anything. Just give me the letter…” he was begging now, and I knew why.

  If he was revealed to be Leona Richards’ father, he would be dragged into the fray as a suspect. I didn’t know if they would find anything on him for sure even then, but I could think of an old cold case that might persuade the police to further their investigation - the unsolved murder of Leona’s mother. “You killed her mother, didn’t you?”

  Patrick dropped the reassuring act in a heartbeat and shrugged his shoulders. Something icy came across his expression. “I helped her. She was dying and wanted a way out. She asked me to do it for her. I did the same for Leona. When she came to me and told me who I was to her, I was thrilled to discover that I had a daughter - and one in the industry, too! I hadn’t known, you see. But it wasn’t long ago that I saw the same symptoms in her as I’d seen in her mother when we met up, after Leona must have been born, and she asked me to help her end it all. I watched and realised how far along she was. When I brought her the drugged juice, she knew there was something wrong with it, but she just looked at me and drank it anyway. Then, when she slept, I put her head in the fish tank to make it look like a proper murder. I couldn’t let her fade away into nothing and be forgotten - which is what would have happened if I’d left her alone. Better to burn out bright.”

  “You can’t just make that choice for someone,” I told him, feeling anger on the behalf of the dead woman. Katya had told me she would probably have died in a couple of days anyway, if left untreated, but it still wasn’t fair. I’d dreaded Ben being the one to have done it to her, but even then, I’d accepted he would still be guilty of a crime.

  “I did her career a favour,” he said, his eyes flashing. There was something cold about his demeanour that made my skin crawl - something that whispered to me that he hadn’t done it purely for her best interests. Patrick had been worried about himself. I couldn’t help but wonder what his relationship with his newfound daughter had been like… and if she’d brought any pressure to bear on him.

  “I notice you didn’t go running to the police with the news that you're Leona’s father and so kindly put her out of her misery.”

  “Are you kidding? I have my own career to consider. All I need is the letter and it’s done. An unsolved case will mean she’s remembered forever. It’s the least I could do. Just give me the letter and we can forget all of this happened, okay?”

  I took a step backwards without thinking about it. My mind was shouting ‘wrong!’ over and over. I didn’t believe Patrick’s story, and I didn’t trust that he was going to let me out of here either. He hadn’t even asked me not to go to the police… because he thought I wasn’t going to get the chance. His career was all he really cared about, I realised. He might believe his version of the truth, but I was willing to bet that it wasn’t nearly so black and white. After all… why had Leona kept the letter so close to her? She’d probably used it as leverage. I’d have put money on Leona figuring out, or at least suspecting, that Patrick had killed her mother. I wondered what she’d threatened to do with that knowledge…

  Patrick’s eyes darkened and my focus turned to survival, rather than the possibility that Leona’s career rise had been helped along by blackmail.

  I stepped to the side and Patrick echoed the movement. Both of us knew the deadly game we were playing.

  “Patrick… how about we just calm down and-” I made a break for it, trying to get past him, so I’d have a shot at running out of the door.

  I almost made it. Patrick lunged to the side and caught one of my legs. I tripped and went sprawling on the tiles. My hands had shot out to break my fall and my injured shoulder was threatening to pop right back out again. This certainly wasn’t my day.

  I just hoped it wasn’t the day I died.

  I turned over and saw Patrick looming over me. There was no question of this being intended ‘to help my career’ or ‘put me out of my misery’, Patrick only cared about number one, and he would do literally anything to cover for himself.

  As if I needed anymore proof of his intentions, he wrapped his hands around my neck and began to squeeze. I fought back, but as tough as I liked to think of myself, I didn’t stand much of a chance on the ground against a man who weighed a great deal more than me. All I could do was keep fighting and try to call for help whenever I managed to gasp a breath.

  Then, all of a sudden, his hands were gone. There was a loud bang. I could breathe again. I realised I’d shut my eyes.

  I opened them now.

  Patrick lay on the floor. There was a large dent in the filing cabinet where he’d made impact and a second one in the side of his head in the spot the glass ornament Doreen was holding had made contact. I’d completely forgotten that she was in the office.

  Her face was white and she was staring at the inert from of Patrick. “Is he…?”

  I reached out and felt for a pulse but was unsurprised when I didn’t find one. Patrick’s head was in a similar state to the way I’d found Leona. I turned back to Doreen and shook my head.

  “I can’t believe I killed someone! What will I do now?” Her hands fluttered around her face and she nearly wiped the ornament in her hair. I realised I recognised the deadly weapon. It was a glass dolphin that had been sitting on one of the office worker’s desks. Whoever had made it had been a lot more skilled than the creator of the hideous gift shop whales. All I cared was that it had been solid enough to save my life.

  I looked at the dent in the side of his
head and then at the sharp corner of a metal wastepaper basket a little way across the room. I moved it closer and then, wincing a whole lot, I reached down and touched Patrick’s head before smearing a little of the gore onto the corner of the bin. “I’ll tell the police that I figured out he killed Leona and he tried to kill me to keep me quiet. There was a fight and he fell, hitting the bin, and then the filing cabinet.” I knew it was a stretch, but I was hoping that with Katya and the rest of the force so eager to catch their killer, once I’d presented the evidence, and they’d had a chance to look into Patrick’s past, I was hopeful that they might overlook a few discrepancies in his own death.

  I made eye contact with Doreen. She inclined her head, knowing I was letting her go. Although she’d killed Patrick to save me, I could tell she wasn’t a merciless killer - not like the producer had been. I only hoped that whatever Doreen’s future held, she managed to stay out of any similar situations. One day she’d be on the wrong side when an ‘accident’ happened.

  I held my hand out and she dropped the ornament into it. After Doreen walked out of the office and - I hoped - animal institutions forever, I washed off the glass dolphin and returned it to the desk, as if it had never been used as a murder weapon. The shiny blue dolphin smiled back at me, sharing my secret. I shook my head at it, knowing full well that the concept of a dolphin’s smile was a deception. Humans liked to project emotions onto animals. A naturally curving jawline meant that people were willing to believe dolphins were always happy… even when kept in an environment that caused them misery.

  I looked down at the corrupted crime scene one last time, appreciating the irony of the situation. I was about to cover up the death of a man who’d covered up murder. It was as deceptive as a dolphin’s smile.

  16

  Avery Zoo Mark II

  In the end, the gossipy world of the documentary crowd worked in my favour. When the police started asking questions about Patrick, the answers flooded in thick and fast. Now that the much-feared producer was dead, everyone had a bad word to say about him, and no one seemed surprised that he was capable of such a self-absorbed crime. I’d reflected that it was as Ben Ravenwood had said - if you behaved badly towards the people who work lower down the ladder than you, they’d do everything they could to push you off the top, and when you found yourself on your way back down you’d be reminded of everything bad you ever did.

  In amongst all of the hubbub, I’d finished my review of the park, and Auryn had fixed a calendar of events and seemingly endless promotion ideas with the shareholders. We were hailed as heroes by the park staff and the shareholders alike. The only person who hadn’t been thrilled was Donovan, the manager, who still blamed me for the loss of his favourite PA.

  Auryn and I had both been pleased when the news from a shark-tracking boat trip had come back reporting that Blanca the great white shark was still well and looking better than ever. Their gamble had paid off and a shark had been saved and successfully returned to the wild. It was something that I hoped other zoos and parks who cared for marine life would see and learn from. The Big Blue’s staff held what was best for the animals close to their hearts, and when the few changes I’d discussed with various keepers had been implemented, I was sure that it was only going to get better.

  The documentary crowd were also packing up on the day that was going to be our last in Mallorca. We’d decided we would leave the island as soon as I’d completed the review of the park. We’d only had to wait a couple of days longer - due to the death of the man now posthumously convicted of murder and attempted murder. The final nail in the coffin had been when the police had managed to trace the painkilling drugs found at Leona’s house in the UK and added to her drink to a larger stash of illegally purchased pills discovered in Patrick’s hotel room. That, plus the fact he’d tried to kill me, had painted a rather vivid picture of the man the producer had really been.

  Ben had told me that the new presenter had respectfully filled in for Leona and done a good job. I’d questioned his grudging tone. He’d then explained that they didn’t see eye to eye, but the remaining producer and director thought they were great on screen together and had signed the new presenter up for future documentary work. I’d nodded but smiled inwardly when I’d heard Ben’s complaints. I’d only seen the new presenter in passing, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the tension between the pair turned into something else in the near future. I hoped that it would be a happy relationship.

  On the day of our flights out, the publishing company had finally called to talk about Colin after dismissing my concerns prior to now. Upon my request, the police had let him go sans restraining order on the condition that he returned to England and didn’t bother me again. Even though everything had seemed to go to hell over the past couple of days, at least Colin hadn’t been a contributing factor. My publishers had apologised profusely and then done a fair bit of grovelling. And all it had taken was a threat to look into the terms of the contract I’d signed. I knew there was still some groundwork to do, and rules that needed to be established, but it was a step - albeit a slightly grudging one - in the right direction. The time spent at The Big Blue with the documentary crew had taught me that divas never prospered in the long run, but I’d also learned that being walked all over didn’t get you very far either. There was a happy medium, and I was hoping to strike it.

  “I can’t believe we were only on holiday for a week and a bit,” Auryn said, looking down at the vanishing island from the plane window.

  “It felt longer than most holidays.”

  “Well, we worked hard for our rest and relaxation,” Auryn batted back, shooting me a sideways grin. “I wonder how many people go on holiday and come back having made a profit?” The Big Blue had already paid our invoices, and when you added up the time we’d put in, our bills hadn’t exactly been small. We could probably go on another three holidays, if we had the time or the inclination to do so - which was exceedingly unlikely.

  “You really think the police will be okay with us shooting out like that?” Auryn tilted his head at me, his grey eyes curious.

  “They got the killer. We weren’t going to stick around there forever.”

  “Yes, but what about…”

  He was asking about Katya. I bit my lip. “She got what she wanted. The case was solved and she gets to go back to the job she really wants to be doing. Anyway… she knows where I’ll be. She knows there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  Auryn and I looked at each other for one long, soppy moment.

  “So, where do you want to go for our honeymoon?” Auryn said, breaking the silence.

  “I think I need at least a year to recover from this holiday.”

  “Oh, come on… we could go somewhere really exotic!”

  “Where?”

  Auryn grinned. “Now don’t get too excited, but I was thinking… Brighton! It’s right down the road from our zoos. No new dramas to get involved with and we can always pop back to check in, if anything went haywire back home.”

  “How about we organise the wedding first?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “One rebuilt restaurant here we come.”

  I smiled back, but inside, I was still wondering how our unplanned wedding would come to fruition. There were so many complications to consider… I loved Auryn, but getting married to him would take a seriously skilful piece of organisation.

  The wedding doubts pushed another gloomy thought into my head. “After all this time spent lazing around on beaches sipping cocktails, I can’t believe we couldn’t even be bothered to take a moment to come up with a name for the yet-to-be-named zoo!”

  “Oh, stop calling it that!” Auryn protested. “Just call it ‘Avery Zoo Mark II’, if you’re not going to choose.” He folded his arms and looked huffy.

  “I did have one more idea… how about ‘The Lucky Zoo’?”

  Auryn opened his mouth and then shut it, looking thoughtful. “Yeah… yeah I like it,” he said after a long paus
e for thought.

  “I know I already named my cat Lucky, but I feel like the zoo should share the name. Some people might look at everything we’ve both been through in the last year and call it bad luck.” I tilted my head. “And they’d probably be right.”

  “Definitely,” Auryn seconded, looking amused.

  “But there’s been good luck, too. You made Avery Zoo successful again against the odds. I got published and became a hit - in spite of the conspiring forces. We finally realised we were right for each other when fate nudged us closer.” I raised a hand when Auryn opened his mouth to remind me that I was the one who’d pushed against us being a couple. “I’d say that’s some good luck.”

  “So… ‘The Lucky Zoo’ it is.” He hesitated. “Too bad I already gave the order to the guys at the office in charge of the new zoo’s promo to run with ‘Avery Zoo Mark II’. I don’t know if it will be that easy to change…”

  “I will push you out of this aeroplane!” I threatened, not entirely sure if he was joking or not.

  “And risk ending our run of ‘good luck’? You wouldn’t dare.”

  I pretended to raise my hand and look for a steward. “Miss! I’d like to change seats please…”

  Auryn pulled my hand back down and looked at me with his grey eyes that suddenly grew serious. “No matter what happens, as long as I’m with you, I know it’s going to be okay.”

  “Even though I seem to attract murder and ruin like a moth to a flame?”

  “Even though you’re a massive drama queen, yes,” Auryn told me with a grin and then laughed when I decided that the hot towels could be used as a weapon. His retaliation was swift, until the steward shot us both a warning look and we stopped, exchanging glances like children caught misbehaving. In the midst of the silliness I found myself reflecting that life was something to be filled with moments that made you laugh. You never knew when your number was going to come up but you could control how you looked at the world, the people you met, and the moments you experienced. Our holiday hadn’t been what we’d envisaged but in the end, I was going to remember it as a happy time. It had brought me closer to Auryn, we’d helped out another zoo, and we’d even shared moments that I knew we’d look back on and laugh.

 

‹ Prev