"This is a tough case, isn't it?" I asked.
He nodded. "It shouldn't be. It should be fairly simple. Most murders are from someone the victim knows. And the fact that he was killed at the zoo seems to point at Doyle and Wulf. But my gut tells me they didn't kill him." He looked like he wanted to say more but couldn't.
"And then there's all the crackpot stories. Some farmer out in the country said he saw someone stuff a parrot into a bag and head for the zoo fence."
It took all I had not to choke on my fettucine alfredo.
"I even checked it out, and the zoo said they weren't missing any animals." He looked at me for a moment. "Although security said they saw you in the red wolf enclosure playing fetch with a wild animal."
"Oh yeah," I said casually. "I'm thinking about adopting him. As kids, we never really believed there was a wolf because I've never known anyone who'd seen it. So, I checked it out, and not only was there a wolf, but he's basically a loveable dog." I looked at Leonard. "Maybe we should get these two together. Wolfie seemed lonely."
Rex shook his head. "You really have to stop breaking into the zoo."
"I know," I said. "It's a bad habit."
He sighed. "I've never had a case go cold before. But I'm afraid this one is heading that way. Even Sheriff Carnack suggested that Janson might've caught an intruder in the building who killed him."
"Who breaks into a zoo with a gun just to do…what? Steal meerkats?"
Rex nodded. "My point exactly."
We ate in silence for a moment, and I realized I had to tell him. This was my husband. If I knew something important to the case, I should say. For years I'd investigated on my own, parallel to Rex's efforts, and it hurt our relationship. This was something I could tell him that might help.
"Remember how I told you about the guy who used to live in my house?"
And then I told him everything. Well, most of it. Okay, just the parts where Joe Hanson was Oleg Tartikov and that Oleg was Robby's dad.
Rex set his fork down. "You went over there? And you're sure it's him?"
I nodded. "We confirmed it with my old real estate agent."
Rex got to his feet. "I guess I'd better bring him in for questioning. At least before Riley tells the CIA about him and I miss my chance."
"Riley wouldn't do that," I said halfheartedly.
Rex knew I didn't believe that. With a warm kiss and the promise of more than a snuggle later, my husband left the house.
My cell rang, and I answered, "Kelly?"
"Great news!" my best friend said with excitement in her voice. "I got a call from the zoo. Dr. Wulf wanted to thank you for some enormous gift for the red wolf?"
"Is that a question? Oh! By the way! He's real!"
"That's what she said when I told her we always thought of him as a sort of mythical unicorn. Anyway, the zoo is still closed tomorrow, and she offered to give our troop a behind the scenes tour!"
A wave of relief washed over me. Dr. Wulf wasn't a suspect, and she didn't know I'd kidnapped the birds.
"Tomorrow? Are you sure?"
"It's Sunday. I've already texted all the girls, and they promised to meet us there in the morning at ten."
We discussed the adventure, and Kelly hung up. Behind the scenes, huh? I wished I could tell Rex that my breaking and entering at Obladi Zoo had provided some pretty sweet perks.
I cleared the table and washed the dishes, lost in thought. Joe, or Oleg, seemed to be the main suspect in Joel's murder. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it made sense. We knew that Robby's dad was Oleg. But maybe I should confirm it?
I remembered Betty's grandpa saying something about it. Looking at the clock, I noticed it was still fairly early for a Saturday night. I texted Rex about an errand and ran out the door. It was time for a little happy hour at the Comrade Club.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The bar was in full swing when I arrived, packed to the gills with old men and some women, slamming shots of vodka and singing in Russian. The yellow walls were even more hideous at night, but no one seemed to care. I weaved my way through the crowd. Every few steps someone would slap a shot glass into my hands, and I pretended to drink it. I didn't have time to socialize. I needed to find…
"Merry!" Betty's grandpa shouted from across the room. I'm not sure how I heard it over the din, but I joined him.
"You picked good night!" He slapped his hand on the table as I pulled up a chair. "The Chicago Cossacks are performing in an hour, and we have bear wrestling after that!"
"People are going to wrestle a real bear?" I asked.
That seemed dangerous. But maybe the constant stream of two-hundred-proof vodka inspired the proper amount of bravery.
"No." He looked forlorn. "Is not real bear. Is Igor's fat cousin in bear suit. But most people will be too drunk to notice, and no one gets hurt!" He smiled. "Well, not hurt too badly."
I kind of wanted to stay and see it, but I needed to talk to him before he had another mind-numbing shot.
"I want you to tell me who this is." I held up the picture of Bryan who was Joe who was Oleg. "Do you know this guy?"
Betty's grandpa stared at it and once more slammed his hand on the table. "It's Oleg! Good guy! You know he's usually here Saturdays. I was telling you about him!"
That was confirmation enough for me. Not that I was worried I'd given Rex the wrong information, but it was always helpful to double-check. It did seem odd that Oleg would use his real name, considering he was in hiding from the Russian government. But then, Oleg was a common enough name that maybe no one thought twice about it.
A shot of vodka was pressed into my hand, and I thought, why not? I'd made a major discovery in the case. I deserved a little celebration. I threw it back and coughed violently after, amid cheers and jeers from the Russians around me. And that's when I saw her.
A woman with a voluptuous figure, tiny waist, and impossibly shiny blonde hair. She was across the room and I only could see her back, but…
Lana?
I thanked Betty's grandpa in Russian as I got to my feet a little unsteadily. "Spaceeba."
As I pushed my way through the crowd, the room started to become wavy. Like I was underwater. My head seemed to get thick and heavy, but I kept shoving my way through the packed bar.
Up ahead, the woman started to turn around. At the same time, my eyelids kept closing on me and I had to use my fingers to keep them open. This time the room began to spin violently around me, and I was unsure which direction I was going in.
"Help…" I tried to say around an impossibly thick tongue. My teeth felt like they were asleep. "I think I've been drugged," I continued. But it came out as a whispered, "ahthinkahbindrugged."
At this point the crowd was the only thing holding me up, but I'd become unable to use my arms and hands. Up ahead the blonde was turning in what appeared to be slow motion. I'd just caught a very Lana-like profile when everything turned to black.
* * *
"Merry?" Kelly's voice brought me around, and I opened my eyes to find my best friend and Betty standing over me.
"Where are we?" I sat up and was rewarded with a crushing headache.
"Grandpa and Grandma's house," Betty said. "Grandpa didn't know who to call, so he called me, and I called Mrs. Albers because she's a nurse and could drive."
"Are you okay?" Kelly asked, looking me over.
"I think so." I rubbed my head. "I'm really thirsty."
Betty handed me a bottle of water, and I guzzled it down.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"It's not late," Kelly said. "Around nine thirty. Do you want me to call Rex?"
"I think she's been roofied." Betty folded her arms over her chest. "Were you roofied?"
I nodded. "I think so. It was in the vodka. Your grandpa gave it to me."
Betty left the room and returned a couple of minutes later. "He said he doesn't know who gave the shot to him. Those things are passed around all night long. Could've been
anyone."
I cut her off. "It was Lana."
Kelly froze, and Betty's eyes went wide.
"I saw her. At least, I think I saw her. She was across the room and her back was to me, but I think it was her."
Kelly shook her head. "It was probably a hallucination. Rohypnol will do that. Riley told me you've been obsessed with seeing her lately."
Did I imagine it? I guessed it was possible. I'd been so convinced she was here pulling all the strings that it would be easy for my mind to think so.
"You'd better take me home," I said. "And don't tell Rex. He'd kill me."
We spent the thirty-minute drive home with Betty peppering me with questions about Rohypnol and asking if you could kill someone with it. To be honest, I wasn't sure. I mean, you can kill anyone with anything if you have enough. Too much table salt can kill you.
Kelly was dead quiet, and I felt bad that I'd taken her away from Finn and Robert so she could look after me. This wasn't her fault, and I wasn't her problem. Wait, did she think I was her problem?
Ugh! My head was still spinning, and I couldn't think straight. I needed to pull myself together before we got home.
"Salt, huh?" Betty made a note in a pink sparkly notebook with a pencil that had a giant cat head as an eraser.
Had I said that aloud?
"Betty, don't…just don't…" I pointed at the notebook. "I promise I'll tell you all I know about poisoning people later, but don't listen to anything I say right now."
"You shouldn't tell her things like that," Kelly said. "I talked to her all the way out here about attacking Sharon. Kids are sponges—they pick up on everything, and they really look up to you."
"They do?" I'd always assumed that the girls thought I was weird.
She took her eyes off the road for a moment to look at me. "They do. And you need to be more responsible about what you say."
We rode on for a couple of minutes in silence before she continued. "Look, I get it. You were a spy. That's so cool. I'm just a nurse—which is not interesting to ten-year-old girls. But they are very impressionable. Without even realizing it, you could be encouraging them to do bad things. Like sharpening pencils and sneaking up on Sharon."
"Classic!" Betty laughed.
Kelly silenced her with a look. I knew that look. I'd been silenced many times by it.
"And tomorrow all the girls are going to the zoo. We have to make sure Betty doesn't throw Sharon to the lions or something."
"Great idea," Betty said as she wrote that in her notebook. "How do I get her over the fence?"
I turned in my seat, which resulted in searing pain in my forehead. "Why do you want to kill Sharon?"
"Because she told Lauren she was a fat, ugly dummy nobody likes."
I looked at Kelly. "Now I want to kill Sharon."
"Dope!" Betty cheered. "Between the two of us, we'll get her good. Can you kill a person twice?"
"We are not getting anyone good!" I shouted. "Look, sometimes people say stuff just to make us mad. Those people are like vampires who suck all the joy out of life."
Betty's eyes grew round. "Sharon's a vampire? I'll need to sharpen some wooden stakes when I get home."
"No! That's not what I meant. What I'm trying to say is that when you get mad or upset at what she says, she likes it. She feeds on making others feel bad. If you ignore or laugh at her, she doesn't get that feeling."
Betty scowled. "I'm confused. Is she a vampire, and are you helping me throw her to the lions or not?"
"This is going well," Kelly said sarcastically.
"You know, you could help me," I said.
"You see, that's what I'm talking about. You say stuff like this around the girls, and I have to be the one who straightens them out." She shook her head. "You have fifteen more minutes to convince Betty not to kill Sharon tomorrow."
That seemed like an impossible task. By the time we dropped her off, I felt like I'd covered at least 60% of my argument. Maybe it was more like 50%.
* * *
The next morning I practically sprang out of bed to get ready. Sure, I went to the zoo all the time…illegally. But I'd never had a behind the scenes tour…whatever that was. It sounded awesome.
Rex wished me well. He was planning on cleaning out the garage. Which I always found odd because my husband was extremely neat and organized, and the garage was perfect. What was he going to do—dust the floor?
It didn't matter because I was going to the zoo. Philby, Martini, and Leonard knew something was up. Sundays were reserved for pancakes and bacon. But not today. In the kitchen, I found Philby hitting her head against the refrigerator door repeatedly.
"It's not going to work today." I bent down to mess up her fur. "Sorry, kiddo."
It was a gorgeous spring day. The sun was shining, and the temp was in the high sixties—a heatwave to Midwesterners. Kelly and the girls were waiting for me when I pulled up. By the time I joined them by the entrance, I realized that five girls were missing—the four Kaitlyns and Sharon.
That's when a white minivan pulled up and the missing girls piled out of it. A gasp went up. All five girls were dressed the same, and by that I mean they were dressed like Sharon. Each Kaitlyn wore a pastel-colored, midriff-baring shirt, denim miniskirt, and ballet flats—which was the only departure from Sharon's outfit because she had high heels on. I silently thanked the Ashleys (the Kaitlyns' mothers) for refusing to let their girls wear heels. Although I would need to have a chat with them about the rest of the clothes. This wasn't good. These girls dressed this way for the most terrifying reason imaginable: they were trying to impress Sharon.
"Those aren't very practical shoes," I said to Sharon. "Don't you have anything else?"
The girl rolled her eyes—a practice that still infuriated me. "I'm not a baby! I can walk in these."
I turned to Kelly. "What do you want to do?"
Our troop had a sort of dress code for outdoor adventures, and comfortable shoes were number one. We'd had problems at camp when girls wore sandals or any other shoe that did not do well on rugged trails. So, the shoe rule was born.
"We didn't tell her what to wear." Kelly bit her lip. "I'm going to let it slide this time."
Sharon had adopted a pose with her hands on her hips, her chest thrust forward, and her butt thrust out. The Kaitlyns scrambled to match it but had a tough time doing so. That kind of pose was unnatural. They looked like praying mantises with scoliosis.
Dr. Wulf waved us in from the gate, and we entered. Kelly and I'd decided that I would stay with Betty at all times. Hopefully there wouldn't be another murder at the zoo.
We started with the camels, and the girls watched breathlessly as a zookeeper fed them. The two-humped camels regarded the kids thoughtfully as they chewed their hay. It wasn't exciting and it was, all at the same time.
The girls were in high spirits as we worked our way through the Australia exhibit. Dr. Wulf told the girls all about the kangaroos, the wombat, and the koalas. They squealed in delight whenever we saw a cute animal. They were happy with the less cute ones, but the two koalas in particular turned them into shimmering puddles of goo.
It was one of those perfect outings that made me happy I'd joined the troop. The kids were curious, sweet, and funny, and Sharon wasn't being mean. Kelly smiled at me, and I felt like this was how every day should be.
I stayed on Betty, who made no move to kill Sharon. Maybe my lecture last night helped. I'd like to think so. Or maybe she was just as enthralled as the other girls.
"Who wants to feed the giraffes?" Dr. Wulf asked.
My hand shot up with the others. I wanted to feed the giraffes! Kelly smirked but said nothing as the zoo director led us up a long, curving ramp to a pavilion. Robby Doyle appeared, herding the animals toward us, and soon, two giant heads were level with us, black tongues reaching for the romaine lettuce leaves Dr. Wulf had distributed.
This was my second encounter with romaine in, what, a week? I'd given it to Mr. Fancy Pants and
Dickie when I'd kidnapped them. It seemed like a very versatile vegetable. Did Wolfie like veggies? I wasn't sure. Wolves were carnivores, right?
The taller of the two giraffes—the male, according to the zoo director—leaned forward to get my leaf. I held it out, and a big black tongue snaked out of his mouth, curled around the leaf, and took it from me.
I felt like I was in heaven. Most of my time here had been spent with birds. I needed to check out the other animals too. Did giraffes like Girl Scout cookies? One by one, each girl stepped up to feed one of the giraffes, giggling as the lettuce disappeared into what looked like smiling mouths.
We skipped the reptile building. My girls weren't usually shrinking violets, but they'd been told that we could skip certain exhibits in order to spend time at the others, like the lions and especially Mr. Fancy Pants.
The building that housed the king vulture had other animals too, but I didn't know much about them. As we walked in, the girls clustered around the porcupine and meerkat enclosure. The small rodents sat on the backs of the two tortoises, and I could swear one of them threw us a peace sign.
The porcupine was not impressed.
Robby had returned and was feeding something called a binturong. This was across the way from Mr. Fancy Pants, who was, I noticed, watching us intently. I hadn't brought any cookies. I'd have to come by later to treat him.
The binturong was a long, black, furry creature from Sumatra. He had brown eyes and a very thick, long prehensile tail that seemed like a fifth leg. As if asked to, the animal put on a show, hanging upside down and taking fruit from Dr. Wulf's hands.
There were a lot of cool animals here. I looked around for Dickie, worried he'd call me out, but to my surprise, he wasn't there. I snagged Robby as he walked past and asked him where the macaw was.
"He's at the vet's. He was sick yesterday. It looked like he was barfing up Corn Nuts," the kid said limply before walking away.
I skipped the other animals and went over to the vulture. I shook my head to indicate I wasn't holding. His gaze turned to the girls. While they most likely didn't have cookies, they probably smelled like them. Was Dr. Wulf going to go into Mr. Fancy Pants' enclosure?
Meerkats and Murder Page 17
