by Edie Claire
He looked at her thoughtfully, withdrawing his hand in the slow, furtive way macho men tended to after experiencing the pain of a Polanski greeting. "Maura Polanski? I knew your Daddy." he smiled, recovering. "Damn fine man. You're kin to Sara Jean Pruszynski, right?"
She nodded tentatively, not sure that was a plus.
"Leigh Koslow," he said thoughtfully, returning to the subject. "I met her. Not a murderer."
"I agree," Maura replied, relieved. "I'm hoping that finding the rest of this body will help prove that."
Smitty nodded. "Maybe. If we find it. So far, not much turning up. It's sad, really. You'd like to give the dead woman's people a little more to bury."
The trooper's words struck a chord. Carmen had no "people," at least none that the police had been able to locate. What would happen to her body? Unless the main squeeze Tanner had a sudden attack of financial conscience, the limbs would probably end up in a pauper's grave.
The latter thought took hold, and Maura's eyes widened. Of course. It would have been possible. Wouldn't it? Her eyes took in the shed, where the wheelbarrow had supposedly been kept, roughly a hundred yards away from the pond. A small rowboat lay inverted at the pond's edge, propped up on pillars of concrete blocks.
"Was there any evidence of a missing block?" Maura asked.
Smitty looked at her respectfully. "You mean for a weight. No. We checked that. No empty spaces, no bare rectangles crawling with pill bugs. But it's rained pretty good since the murder, you know. We can't be sure another block wasn't lying around. Plus, there's other things could be used as weights."
Maura looked again at the rowboat. It was balanced about two feet off the ground. If the murderer had used it to carry the body out into deep water, they'd been considerate enough to put it back. "Are there shovels in the shed?" she asked.
Smitty's gaze turned to puzzlement. "Yes. Mind telling me what you're thinking?"
Maura studied him. Sara Jean was a nut, but her sense of character was keen. Smitty was clearly a good guy. "I'm thinking that the perp was probably a woman," she began. "A zookeeper. They spend a lot of time shoveling and hauling, so they have good upper body strength. But unless they're into boating, I doubt they'd want to pull that one off the pillars, dump a body and a weight in it, launch it, navigate out, dump the body without tipping, row back, and lift the boat back up again."
Smitty nodded slowly. "Maybe not if there was an easier way."
"For a zookeeper, there would be," Maura suggested. "With a wheelbarrow, a shovel, and a good back, the perp could have taken the body a good distance from the cabin and buried it."
Smitty's wide brow knitted. He scanned the woods around the pond. "We already checked the clear areas. No disturbed ground. Out there—you got roots. It'd be tough."
"There must be some kind of clearing farther out," Maura insisted.
He scratched his chin. "There's a path around the pond—at least half of it. Let's take a walk."
***
As bidden, Leigh returned to the offices of Hook, Inc. in the early afternoon. Working at Hook had always been more of a pleasure than a drudgery to her, but this time she couldn't deny a certain dread. On the phone, everybody had claimed they believed she was innocent. But did they really?
She opened the squeaking door and smiled at the new receptionist, who had done wonders with the pathetic lobby. Had it really only been five days since the arrest? Only a week since that horrible night her world had started spinning? It seemed like half a lifetime.
"Hello, Leigh," the woman said pleasantly. "We were hoping you'd make it in. Everybody's in Jeff's office."
Leigh took a deep breath, laid her stack of files in her office, and went to Jeff's door, which was closed. She knocked nervously.
"Come on in!" he called affably. She opened the door and did a double-take. Jeff, Carl, and Alice were clustered around Jeff's desk, wearing makeshift paper party hats. A sheet cake took center stage.
"Happy bail!" they shouted, then broke into laughter. Their party hats, which were crafted out of legal-size copy paper and stuck to their hair with paper clips, said "Get out of jail free," "Beat the system," and "Half-million dollar woman," respectively. The cake, which was decorated with broken chains in blue icing, said "Anything for a party."
"I can't believe you guys," Leigh said incredulously, laughing. "Love the hats. Where's mine?"
Carl smirked and immediately produced a fourth cone-shaped hat, which simply read "innocent." Leigh smiled broadly and hoped desperately that she could avoid the tear thing. "This was so nice of you guys. Thanks. It means a lot to me."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Alice said dismissively. "Now cut the cake, will you? We've had to smell the damn thing all morning and it's driving me crazy."
Leigh obliged. Unexpected cake she was compelled to eat. What more could one ask for on a Wednesday afternoon?
***
Maura and Smitty skirted the lake on the overgrown path, looking back into the surrounding woods. Smitty shook his head. "Looks pretty thick. I haven't seen any brush beaten down."
Maura kept walking. "There might be a stream or two feeding in. The perp could have pushed the wheelbarrow up the bed, if it was dry enough."
When they had almost reached the far end of the pond, Maura found what she was looking for. A shallow stream, barely a trickle at the moment, left over from the weekend downpour. The bed was a little rocky, but not so bumpy that a wheelbarrow couldn't easily be maneuvered upstream. She turned and followed the stream away from the pond, Smitty at her heels.
After about twenty yards, she stopped. A small tree had fallen across the stream, rendering it impassable to anything over 12 inches high. She looked anxiously to either side, but Smitty was already ahead of her.
"Look here," he said with excitement. "You might just be on to something."
Maura looked where he was pointing, at the base of the fallen tree. She had no experience whatsoever at hunting or tracking, but even to her eyes, the trampling of the underbrush was obvious. The path made an arc around the log, then disappeared again in the streambed on the opposite side.
She and Smitty exchanged hopeful glances and plowed on, looking carefully for further signs of an exit from the stream bed. Three minutes later, they both stopped cold. The stream made a sharp turn, leaving a shoulder of flat ground that probably flooded with heavy spring rains, then dried out in the summer. A week ago, the elbow of soil had probably been covered with weeds, but now only a few remained around its edges. In the center was a circle of raw, plowed-up earth.
Chapter 21
Suitably dosed up with sugar, fat, and caffeine, Leigh managed a productive afternoon of slogan-spinning. It felt good to be thinking about something that didn't matter, and she left the office with firm plans to start back to work full time the next day. If they didn't have enough writing to do, she could always help Jeff with the marketing. It was her business, and she should never have let it take a back seat, even for a week and a half. Cash problem or no, trying to work a second job at the zoo had been a mistake. For a lot of reasons.
Reaching the parking lot, she plucked a circular off the windshield of her Cavalier. It advertised (in an amateurish fashion, she noted) a new restaurant down the street, and as she prepared to crumple it she noticed that it was different from the circulars adorning the other cars around her. Hers had writing on it. She squinted at the odd script.
Mr. Jankowski was gay.
Her brow furrowed. Was this a joke? Some kids goofing off with the flyers they were hired to distribute? She looked closer at the blue ink, and tensed as she recognized the shaky block print. It was the same as the letter she'd received that morning.
Kristin.
She drew in a breath, picturing a skinny blond man with a soccer ball and a whistle. Mr. Jankowski, her eighth-grade gym teacher. All the girls had crushes on him because of his baby blue eyes and high cheekbones. The boys all thought he was gay. In retrospect, the boys were probably right.
Cara's voice bounced around in the back of her head. And then there was the parole officer, and the gym teacher at the middle school—
Of course. Jankowski was one of Carmen's many paramours, or so she had claimed at the tender age of thirteen. And now Kristin was saying he was gay?
Leigh exhaled in frustration. Why on earth should anyone care? She tossed the circular in the car and climbed in after it. More mind games. The note couldn't possibly mean a blasted thing—except proof of their shared adolescence.
And the fact that Kristin knew where she worked.
Leigh started up the Cavalier and drove off. Being deliberately baited irked her. She was already under arrest for one crime Kristin had committed. What more could the thankless witch possibly want? It wasn't Leigh's fault that Tanner had got arrested, and it wasn't her fault the frame-job failed. But Tanner was out on bail nevertheless, and if he was really what Kristin wanted, what was stopping her from scooping him up and carrying him off to make one big happy family?
Leigh's mind pulled up a picture of Tanner sitting in the gloom of Stacey's house. Perhaps Kristin had already tried. Perhaps she had sought him out, and they had talked. If so, he hadn't told the police. And he hadn't bothered to get himself—or more importantly, Leigh—off the hook.
Impossible. No way would a self-absorbed philanderer like Tanner go to prison for a woman he thought looked like a horse—even if she was carrying his child. Kristin hadn't contacted him. Only Leigh.
Lucky, lucky, me. Why?
She didn't have time to finish the thought, because as she stared blankly ahead at the traffic light, she saw it. Just two cars up.
A tan Eldorado.
***
"Detective Frank's on his way," Smitty announced to the officials that had assembled at the pond's far edge. "Forensics here? Good. Let's see what we've got."
Maura hung back, not wanting to appear too conspicuous. This was the State Police's show—and any further involvement on her part could only complicate matters. That said, she wasn't going anywhere. Not until she knew for sure.
She looked anxiously at the cabin, aware that it had no phone service. She needed to get in touch with Leigh, but it would have to wait.
The forensics team gathered its equipment and began to trek into the woods after Smitty. Maura took a seat on a fallen log at the pond's edge, piecing things together in her mind. There was a lot she still didn't understand, but she was pretty sure she had the gist of it. And that made her more than a little nervous for Leigh.
***
Over an hour had passed when the peace of the dense woods was shattered by a loud bang. Maura skirted the pond's edge in seconds and made her way around the edge of the cabin, gun drawn. Peering cautiously around the corner of the building and into the road, she was surprised to see only Detective Frank, kicking his flattened car tire with contempt and cursing fluently. She chuckled and replaced her gun.
"Damn country roads!" he swore as he strode toward Maura, who had stepped away from the building. "Pits like canyons and gravel like boulders. Knew I should have kept a decent spare—" He stopped short on recognizing her.
"You involved in this, Polanski?" he asked suspiciously.
"I came out when I heard the pond was being dragged," she answered calmly.
Frank's eyebrows rose a little, but his voice turned more amiable. "Why exactly did you want to be here? Lousy way to spend time off, if you ask me."
Maura studied him. He didn't completely trust her, but he respected her, it would seem. "I think that finding the rest of the body could clear Leigh Koslow. I'm anxious to see what Trooper Smitty turns up."
She turned and began walking, leading him down the trail around the pond. "And why should finding the rest of the body help Leigh Koslow?" he asked as they reached the stream bed. His voice was mildly patronizing, but such subtle slights had no effect on Maura Polanski.
She opened her mouth to answer his question, but was interrupted by an echoing yell from Smitty. "Hi ho!"
Maura and Frank took a few paces up the stream. "What do you have?" Frank called out to Smitty as the latter appeared up ahead.
"Come see for yourself," Smitty answered grimly.
Frank moved forward, and Maura followed at a discreet distance. She didn't want to be accused of screwing up the crime scene, but she needed to see the body—and as soon as possible.
She watched from behind as Frank reached the stream's elbow and looked down into the shallow grave. He uttered an expletive and wheeled around, his eyes training quickly on Maura. "You knew we'd find this—didn't you?" he said hotly, dark eyes blazing.
Maura, who was still not close enough to see, quickly stepped forward and looked down. "No," she said calmly, shaking her head. "But I had a hunch."
***
The tan Eldorado took a wide, slow left turn. Leigh stared hard to get a glimpse of the driver, but saw only tinted windows. She turned left and followed the gas-guzzling old car. How many could there be in Pittsburgh? Could it be coincidence that this one was here, when she had just gotten that ridiculous message on her car?
She cursed under her breath. If only she could call the police…but naturally she had no cell phone. Unbeknownst to Hollywood, most average-income people still didn't. Nor could she pull over at a payphone—she would lose the car in a minute, and on the North Side, it would be hard to find again. Too many ways to turn, too many alleys to duck into.
She kept up behind the car, which began turning at every corner. Left, left, left, left. Right, right, right, right. They were going in circles. The car seemed to know she was following, and was toying with her. Leigh's annoyance grew, but she hung on, trying fruitlessly to get a better view of the driver. Unfortunately, time was against her. It was already growing dark.
Around and around the Eldorado circled, moving to a new area now and then only to circle again. Leigh followed doggedly. Sooner or later the car would stop somewhere, or else the driver would tire of the chase and make a break for a major road. Either way, if Leigh could call quick enough, the police would have a decent chance of catching up.
The chase had gone on for half an hour when Leigh realized that they were making progress, however slowly, in a particular direction. They were headed for the zoo. And thanks to the circuitous route, they were headed for the zoo in darkness.
***
The phone in Leigh's apartment rang four times before the answering machine picked up, only to expel a beep so long Maura doubted there would be any tape left. Her quick pleas for Leigh to answer if she were in went unheeded, and Maura stopped the call in frustration.
"Any luck?" Frank asked, reclaiming his cell phone.
Maura shook her head. "I'll just have to find her."
"Well if you're going anywhere near Zone One, can I hitch a ride?" Frank asked, more in the manner of a command. "I haven't got time to beg for a spare and fix this tank of mine—I've got work to do."
She nodded, and Frank piled into the ancient Escort. "Besides," he said casually, buckling his seat belt, "we need to talk."
***
It seemed like ages before the tan Eldorado finally reached the zoo and headed up the winding side road toward the employee lot. Having had plenty of time to mull over potential options, Leigh was ready for action when the moment came. She watched with a sly smile as the Eldorado made a wide swing into the employee lot. Immediately, she revved the Cavalier into high gear and drove straight ahead.
As brief as her time on the zoo staff had been, her excursions as a tourist were numerous enough that she had a good idea where the phones were. And it just so happened that the closest and most accessible one was up on the top of the hill, between the vending shed and the restrooms. It was also quite near what Tanner had once referred to as "the high road"—his own personal after-hours entry.
Leigh scanned the tree-lined fence and tried to estimate the location of the phone. When she thought she was close, she pulled two of the Cavalier's wheels off onto the
narrow shoulder and parked—hazard lights blinking. The last thing she needed tonight was a totaled car.
She grabbed a flashlight from her glove compartment and began to walk the fence line, shining the beam through until she found the back wall of the vending shed. Then she headed downhill, focusing her attention on the tree branches overhead.
She found "the high road" quickly, tucked the butt of the flashlight in a back pocket, and pretended she was ten again. Jumping up high enough to hook the old maple's lowest branch was easy. Getting her bottom half to the same level was another matter entirely. Cursing her weight distribution, she scrambled up only after five tries and several nasty bark burns. Once she was up, however, the rest was easy.
A series of horizontal branches took her up higher than the fence's barbed-wire top, and one particularly large limb offered safe passage across it. She swung down easily on other side, but her sense of victory was short-lived. Her feet had no sooner hit the ground than she realized the flaw in her plan.
Never in a million years could she jump back up to the branch she'd just let go of. The "high road" was one-way.
Hell.
She looked nervously around her at the darkness. She hated being in this place at night even before she'd found Carmen's body. How had she ended up here again?
Trying to push the paranoia out of her mind, she focused on the task at hand. She was going to get to the phone and let the police know that Kristin was in the zoo. With any luck, the terror monger of North Hills High would still be here when they arrived. Zoo security could get to her faster, but they probably wouldn't. All they would do would be to take Leigh in for trespassing—giving Kristin plenty of time to wise up and take off.
