by Ruby Loren
I turned back to the couple on the path and saw that Zara was crying.
“He’s followed me here! I thought I was safe,” she sobbed.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Lowell asked, walking up the path to join our little group.
“Thank you, but no. It’s kind of you to stop but I'm afraid there’s nothing you can do,” the man said, sounding remarkably defeated.
“Well, we can at least call the police for you,” I tried, managing to shoot Zara what I hoped was a comforting smile. The business woman I’d met yesterday had completely gone to pieces.
“We’ve tried that before. Nothing ever happens. The police just ignore us,” the man said.
“Oh, Madi! I don’t know what I’m going to do. I thought this was all behind us. We've even been constantly moving around just in case. I thought it had done the trick,” Zara said.
“Do you two know each other?" Lowell asked.
I nodded. “This is Zara, head of the PR firm I told you I was working with.”
His eyes went a little wide when I mentioned her name but he covered it. I knew he’d remembered the odd phone call I’d described. Given today’s display, I was definitely revising my opinion that it had been a scam caller.
“I’m Lowell, Madi’s boyfriend,” he said, offering a hand to Zara, who took it in a daze and gave the limpest shake I’d ever seen.
“I'm Darren, Zara’s husband. It’s nice to meet one of Zara’s colleagues. I'm just sorry about the situation,” the other man told us.
I thought there was something quaintly British about his apology for something that was completely beyond his control.
At that moment, a man poked his head over next door’s wall and asked if everything was all right. Lowell left the group and went to talk to him.
“So, this has happened before?” I pressed.
Darren pulled a face, his arms still around Zara, who was clearly trying to get a grip on herself. “Yes, in a manner of speaking. The rat is new, but we've had dead things before. Mostly dead mice, pushed through the letterbox with threatening letters for Zara.”
“You’ve been to the police with all of this?” I asked.
Darren nodded. “Yes, we’ve told them everything. They couldn’t do a thing about it. They never found the person who was doing it and as neither of us have been physically harmed…” He shrugged.
“Even so, you should call them about what’s just happened. You never know… a different local police force might be able to do more about it,” I said, trying to be positive about a very scary situation. I couldn't imagine what it must feel like to be the victim of an apparent hate campaign.
“I’ll call them when we’re inside and have had a cup of tea. I think we need that much before we face them,” Darren said with a thin-lipped smile.
“Okay,” I said, as neutrally as possible. “Let me know if there’s anything at all I can do to help. You've got my number,” I said to Zara.
Part of the excruciating introductions yesterday had involved a number swap. Everyone on the team now had my contact number. It was antisocial, but I was already looking forward to deleting most of them from my phone book the minute this job was over.
I turned and discovered Lowell had returned with the neighbour in tow.
“This is Tom Riley, he’s an off-duty police officer,” he said.
The newcomer nodded his head, giving me a fantastic view of the tiny corkscrew curls that clung to his dark-skinned scalp.
“I heard someone in distress and thought I’d come and see if I could help. I hear you’ve been the victim of an attack?” The couple nodded grimly. “I’m your neighbour, by the way. Sorry to meet like this.”
Zara and Darren mumbled about it being perfectly all right and that they were glad to have him there.
I noticed Lowell staring hungrily at the horizon in the direction we had been walking.
“I hope the police can help you both this time,” I said, smiling kindly at the couple, before we excused ourselves.
“I’m glad that off-duty police officer was there. I’m not convinced they’d have called the police otherwise," Lowell said, breaking the silence when we were two hills away from the little hamlet.
“I got that impression, too,” I admitted. “I don't know why they wouldn’t. Someone with a history of being attacked like that… my first instinct would be to go to the police.” I thought about it a bit more. “I guess they’re just tired of it all. I can’t imagine what it’s like to constantly move around and think you’ve finally shaken your attacker, only for it to all start up again. I’m sure Zara’s not done anything to deserve a stalker. Still, it’s a little odd…”
“…That they’re not doing more about it?” Lowell finished. “I’d set up cameras, surveillance - the works - if it were me, but not everyone would feel the same. I've worked on stalking cases before. At a guess, I'd say Zara and Darren are doing everything they can to live normal lives. They don’t want to admit, even to themselves, that anything is seriously wrong.”
“They said the police never did anything to help. Do you think maybe we could…” I trailed off when Lowell threw me a dark look.
“Believe me, you do not want to get involved. Someone has got it in for Zara. That’s bad, but it's their business. If they wanted help, they’d be asking for it. Until they ask, we'd probably just end up making ourselves look guilty. Think about it... we’d have to spy on them to catch the culprit. All Zara and Darren would be doing is gaining another couple of stalkers.”
“Well, I suppose at least there hasn’t been anything actually violent against Zara. Darren just said it was small, dead animals and threatening notes. I guess the phone calls, too.” I bit my lip, but Lowell didn’t so much as budge. “At least the police know,” I said, resigning myself to play by his rules for now.
He didn't think it was our problem. I could see his point, but that didn’t stop me from having a very strong feeling that it wasn’t going to stay that way…
2
A Lot at Stake
The first week passed by in what felt like a matter of seconds. I’d immersed myself in my observations of both the animals and their habitats. One week in and I knew I'd barely scraped the surface with a lot of them. My head was practically floating with ideas for the many damaged animals at the zoo, but I knew there was going to be a fair amount of trial and error. Solving a mental ailment was often far more difficult than treating a physical problem. There was no fixed timeline for healing and no guarantee that there would be complete recovery, or even any recovery at all. I’d known at the start of the job that it was going to be my most challenging case to date, and I wasn’t about to change that assessment.
I’d been so busy, I hadn’t engaged much with the PR team. I’d bumped into a couple of them during my observations, and these brief encounters had produced a surprising slew of information about the team I was supposed to be working with. I guessed because I was working with them but not a part of the team it made me the perfect person to vent their problems at.
From Adrian, I’d heard that Lyra was exceedingly arrogant and self-centred. From that I’d gauged that she’d turned him down at one time or another.
Alex had described Adrian’s past as a student, fresh from uni, who’d attempted to set up his own business and had fallen flat on his face. Alex had implied that he was the PR company’s charity case and had only been offered the job because he was Zara’s second cousin.
Laura had told me that Alex was secretly trying to gather as much information as possible about the PR company before launching his own competitor business.
Laura herself wanted to save up enough money to quit her job and then go on a trip around the world, while she was still young enough to enjoy it.
To my surprise, no one mentioned anything particularly negative about their boss at all. It would seem that Zara was liked, but not interesting enough to warrant much discussion. From the lack of chatter, I also assumed t
hat none of her employees knew about her history with a stalker. With things starting up again, I didn’t think it would be long before they found out that their boss wasn’t as bland as they’d believed.
Of all the members of the PR team, Teagan was the one who’d taken a real battering. Whilst most of the team members had dismissed her as being ‘pretty nuts’, I thought there was more to it than just a quirk of personality.
When I'd come across Teagan outside the bat aviary, she’d been achingly polite whilst simultaneously doing her very best to delve into my past. I’d answered her questions, but had felt my skin start to crawl at the back of my neck. There was nothing visible that I could put my finger on, but some extra sense of mine warned me that Teagan was not what she appeared on the surface. She had something wrong in her head and every inch of my goose-fleshed skin warned me not to push her to reveal what it was. Of one thing I was sure - Teagan was a ticking time bomb.
I hoped I wouldn’t be anywhere near her when she finally exploded.
This morning I was glad to see no sign of the PR team. I assumed that their first week (much like mine) had involved a lot of reconnaissance and getting to grips with what Pendalay Zoo had to offer. Now they’d retreated to their office to come up with ideas, and I’d been left to work my own magic.
I’d decided to start with the big cats. My most recent case in France had involved a lot of close work with these magnificent animals, and I was hopeful that the knowledge I’d gained would come in handy at Pendalay.
If I were being honest, I was hoping to see a quick result, both for mine and the zoo owners’ sake. If we could both point to the big cats and say ‘look what a difference we’ve made’ it would mean breathing space was more likely to be granted for the rest of the zoo. The threat of the animals being seized by an animal welfare group was imminent. I knew something had to be done - and quickly - if they wanted to retain the zoo.
It wasn’t the first time I’d silently cursed the previous owners of Pendalay. While I watched the half-starved lions lying despondently on the sparse grass, I hoped that one day karma would catch up with the people who'd allowed it to happen.
The Johnsons had obviously worked on the exterior of the lions’ enclosure. It was coated with freshly-cut wooden boards, and the information plaques were every bit as engaging as those at the award winning Avery Zoo, where I’d once worked. It was also obvious that the lions were being fed a vastly superior diet to what they’d been used to.
The problem was, they no longer wanted it.
I could see a carcass lying off to the side in the enclosure. It looked like the lions had barely picked at it. They were supposed to eat around eight pounds of meat a day in captivity.
The first thing to change was their immediate surroundings. The lions were beyond bored. In fact, they were probably out of their minds with boredom. Putting a human into a box with nothing but flat ground and four walls would be torture, and it was no different with animals.
I took a deep breath and got out my sketch pad. It was usually reserved for drawing comics, but today I would be turning my hand to interior design. I was hoping that the Johnsons would see my ideas as an opportunity. I'd studied many big cat enclosures and had learned what worked well. I also had an idea or two about things that could possibly be improved upon. This was a chance for the zoo to try something new - and potentially get ahead of other zoos.
Of course, it’ll only be a success if you can get the lions to be lions again, I thought, feeling a little dismal.
I’d also found time to draw up plans for various interactive toys, like treat balls, and meat that hung on a string and had to be leapt at to catch.
I knew it was good stuff. The problem was, the lions would have to want to participate, and I wasn’t sure what I could do to encourage them to take those first few steps. I couldn’t force them to make the choice to get better and enjoy life. I just had to hope that they decided to change.
I’d picked the lions of all the big cats as the place to start. They were in a wide, open enclosure, big enough to house a medium-sized pride. While there (unsurprisingly) hadn’t been any offspring for years, I was hoping that if even one member of the pride tried out a treat ball, or climbed up on a wooden podium, the rest might follow suit. Then I’d be able to really start work, making a difference here.
The major problem I’d uncovered at Pendalay, beyond malnourishment, was a complete lack of stimulus. The animals were almost completely sedentary, and I knew that had to change.
I raised my eyes to look at the dozing pride, with their breakfast still lying, forgotten.
I prayed I wouldn’t fail them.
In spite of not seeing any of the PR team for the entire day, I was still summoned to their meeting.
Zara had texted to let me know that they were doing a ‘team meet’ quite late in the evening. I’d read the text a couple of times and had been forced to assume that she was asking me to come along. Otherwise, why tell me? I’d grumbled to myself about both the text and the time of the meeting. In the interests of diplomacy, I’d decided to suck it up. Now here I was again, walking across the car park towards the community hall.
I pulled my scarf a little tighter against the bitter wind that had started up and comforted myself a little with the thought that I hadn't missed any quality time with Lowell. His new work colleagues had gone out together for drinks to celebrate one of the staff’s birthday. He'd confided with me that he strongly suspected they’d all got together and arranged their ‘birthdays’, so it was almost as if they had a birthday to celebrate every week.
Birthday fiddling was not the crime Lowell had been employed to investigate, so he had to join in the fun.
I walked up the steps, kicking dry leaves out of the way as I climbed. A bit of rain and they’ll turn into slippery mush! I thought, contemplating how treacherous that would be. I shook my head, wondering when I’d turned into such an old worrywart.
“Hi Madi, I’m not sure if anyone else is here yet.”
I was greeted by Teagan, who hovered anxiously by the door.
“Is it open?” I asked.
“No, I tried it already. It's weird. Zara stayed behind instead of going out for dinner. I don’t know why she’d have locked the door.”
I tried not to roll my eyes at the amount of time that had already been wasted. Perhaps the PR team were paid overtime for working this late, but it was definitely above and beyond the hours I'd arranged to work for the zoo. I wasn’t usually a complainer. My zoo reviews tended to be written as much after hours as during the day, but I did try to limit myself to working regular hours, despite my passion for the job.
I was feeling more stressed about it than usual, due to the comic work I had to do. A lot of my readers were waiting for the stuff they’d paid for, and instead of working on it, I was stuck waiting outside a community hall, waiting for a door to be unlocked.
We both turned at the sound of car doors slamming. Alex and Adrian joined us on the steps.
“Are we having the meeting out here? I know we’re trying to cut down on the heating bill, but this is surely a bit much," Adrian said.
I was sorry to note he was deadly serious.
“Zara’s locked the door,” Teagan said.
“That’s odd. Her car’s here. We passed it on the way in. The lights are on in her office, too,” Adrian commented when he’d peered round the side of the building.
“So, she stayed behind?” I asked, a little confused as to why the team had separated.
Adrian nodded. “We worked late but still have to get this meeting in today. It’s vital for planning things in time. Zara said she’d text you and say to come over. In the meantime, we could all go out and get some food.”
“Where are the others?” I asked.
“We all wanted different things. I fancied pizza and Adrian wanted a kebab. We went separately, but I picked Adrian up on the way back because his car broke down.”
Adrian grunted. “Pie
ce of junk. I should have known that car salesman was spinning me a line.”
Alex looked a little embarrassed for Adrian and pressed on to cover it up. “The girls all wanted boring healthy stuff, like sushi. I don’t know where they all went,” Alex said, generating a glare from Teagan.
“Lyra’s car’s here,” Adrian said, turning back from the examination of the car park he’d been making.
“Hey, why are we outside?” Laura said, joining our group huddle on the top step.
“Where’s Lyra?” Teagan said, voicing our thoughts aloud.
I knocked on the door and shouted Zara’s name and the others joined me. It soon became clear that no one was coming to let us in.
For some reason, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise up.
“I’ll call her.” Alex turned away to dial.
In our silent state, we all heard the thin sound of Zara’s ringtone from somewhere inside the building. She didn't answer and Alex cut the call off when it went to voicemail. “She’s probably just put her phone down,” he muttered.
I bent down, having spotted something sticking out beneath the door. It seemed to be a thin sliver of wood. I tried to pull it out, but it didn’t budge. Acting on a hunch, I pushed the door.
“Already tried that,” Teagan said, when the door didn’t open. But I’d noticed something important. The door had bowed inwards at the top when I’d pushed it, suggesting that it wasn’t locked in the usual manner. I pressed my face flat against the thin window and tried to look down at the floor of the corridor.
“I think something’s wedging the door shut from the inside," I said.
“Maybe the door kept coming open in the wind and one of the other groups using the building put something there to keep it closed?” Laura suggested.
“Maybe," I allowed and then banged on the door again. Nothing happened.
