by Lois Schmitt
“I didn’t call, but don’t worry. They need a lot more evidence before they can arrest Tim.”
“I know you’re right. Only I can’t afford to have him mixed up in a murder investigation. I’m up for a promotion and my company is ultra conservative.”
Her concern wasn’t about Tim. As usual, it was all about Barbara.
“I don’t think the police have enough evidence to arrest him,” Barbara continued, “but I’m afraid of how the press could damage both our reputations. Whoever committed the murder would need access to the rain forest.”
“Who besides Tim can get in there?”
“The building is locked after hours. The police found the master key in McKenzie’s desk, and I understand only five other employees have keys. Tim is one, and so are the other curators, Saul Mandel and Amanda Devereux.”
“Okay. That’s three accounted for. What about the other two?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Do the police know the cause of death yet?” I asked.
“Wolfe said the autopsy results would be released soon.”
After Barbara said good-bye, I poured wine in a glass and carried it to the patio where I sank into one of my cushioned lounge chairs.
Would Detective Steve Wolfe make Tim a scapegoat?
I remembered back to Tim’s high school senior year. After his harassing my brother and two other students in gym class, school authorities banned Steve from the senior prom. “You’ll regret this,” Steve had threatened at the time. “I don’t know when, but I’ll get even.”
My brother went away to college and never saw Steve again until this week.
Had Steve changed or remained a bully? He needed evidence, of course, but would he frame Tim?
I sighed, realizing I had always protected my little brother, and I guessed I’d be doing it again.
To prove Tim’s innocence, I needed to find the real killer.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next morning, with my fingers crossed, I phoned the police department and asked for Detective Fox. Finger-crossing didn’t work. Detective Wolfe answered.
“My editor is considering doing a small piece on McKenzie’s murder,” I lied, praying this wouldn’t get back to Olivia.
“I thought you worked for some animal magazine, not Crime Gazette.”
“McKenzie was a prominent member of the zoological community so its fitting we write a little blurb—”
“Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“I only want to know who has access to the rain forest.”
“Your brother.” He snickered.
“Who else?” I gritted my teeth.
“It’s not my job to answer your questions. Call the press office. But remember, this is an open investigation. They probably won’t tell you anything either.”
“They can’t decide what to put behind the chair.” The zoo’s receptionist was talking on the phone as I approached her desk. “The pink umbrella with the red hearts or the life-size cut-outs of the bride and groom.”
“I like the pink umbrella,” I said, signing the visitor’s log and putting down the pen.
The receptionist glanced up at me. “That was my first choice too.”
Sarcasm doesn’t work with everyone.
I scooted into the elevator, pressing the button for the third floor. When the door opened, I spotted Ginger Hart in conversation with a young woman who looked familiar.
“Mei?” I said, stepping into the hallway.
She spun around. “Mrs. Farrell, what are you doing here?”
We hugged.
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” I said.
“It’s been more than six years since I graduated.” Mei grinned. “I’ve contact lenses now. I let my hair grow, I’ve lost about thirty pounds, and—”
“I take it you two know each other,” Ginger interrupted.
“Mrs. Farrell was my first teacher when I arrived in America, and she was always my favorite.”
I smiled, remembering the awkward teenager who came from Hong Kong to live with her aunt on Long Island after her parents died.
“Mrs. Farrell,” Mei said, “this is Ms. Hart, the zoo’s—”
“We’ve met,” said Ginger. “Although I didn’t realize you were a teacher, Kristy.”
“I heard you left Jefferson High, Mrs. Farrell. What are you doing now?” Mei asked.
“I’m working as a writer for Animal Advocate magazine. How about you?”
“Graduate work in zoology. I’m interning at the zoo. I’ve been—”
“Don’t forget those reports, Mei,” Ginger interrupted again. “I need them by ten tomorrow.” She turned toward me and asked, “What brings you here today?”
“Research in the zoo’s library. But right now, I thought I’d stop in your office. I need to schedule an interview with the ornithology curator.”
“Our curator of ornithology is McKenzie’s widow. I can’t imagine she’d be up to an interview.”
Being every bit the diplomat, I refrained from mentioning that I saw Amanda Devereux at the zoo the day after the discovery of her husband’s body. Instead, I countered with, “There must be someone else in ornithology I can talk to.”
“I suppose I could arrange something. I’ll have my staff work on it and contact you.”
Ginger took off down the hall, vanishing into her office.
“I’d love to catch up on what you’ve been doing,” I said to Mei.
“I’m free now. How about we go to the cafeteria? If I remember, you love your coffee.”
It was such a hot and humid day, animal smells lingered in the air. As Mei and I strolled down the main path, my nose told me the elephants were near.
Mei pointed to the approaching exhibit—an African savannah with grassy plains, scattered trees, and a watering hole. One elephant calf, submerged in the pool, squirted water at two adult elephants.
“I wish he would spray me,” I joked, wiping the perspiration off my forehead. My blouse clung to my body.
“Isn’t this exhibit super? Saul Mandel worked with the architects to ensure it duplicated the elephant habitat. And he did a fantastic job on the new rain forest, too.”
“Mandel designed the rain forest? The newspapers credited McKenzie with that.”
Mei frowned. “That’s wrong. McKenzie only cared about attracting media attention and worming donations out of rich people. He hadn’t a clue about designing habitats.”
Climbing up the cafeteria steps, she added, “Trust me. If it weren’t for Mandel, the Rocky Cove Zoo rain forest wouldn’t exist.”
The air-conditioned cafeteria buzzed with conversation. As Mei and I maneuvered our way through the crowded building, I spied Linda Sancho alone at a table. The wildlife nutritionist held a cup in one hand while pecking at a laptop keyboard with the other. She nodded as we went by.
“Do you know Linda?” Mei asked.
“We were introduced this week.”
“Linda works harder than anyone I know.” Mei handed me a tray. “McKenzie planned to eliminate her position. He spent a fortune renovating the administration building, but he said the zoo couldn’t afford the luxury of a wildlife nutritionist.”
After grabbing a chocolate doughnut, I scooted my tray along to the coffee urn. “I hope Linda’s job remains in the budget,” I said, filling my cup to the brim.
“With McKenzie gone, I think it will. It’s always hard to lose a job, but it’s especially rough in this case.” Mei grabbed a bottle of diet iced tea from the refrigerated compartment. “There aren’t many jobs for a wildlife nutritionist. Linda said there were no openings in the New York or New Jersey area. If she lost her job here, she would need to move off Long Island.”
“And she didn’t want to do that?”
“Her husband is a lawyer with a big firm, Webster, Mayer, and Hammond. He’s up for a partnership and refuses to relocate. Linda loves her job. She’s not about to abandon her career.”
> “So, what would she have done?”
“A commuter marriage to start with. That’s if she could get a job in another state. But she received tremendous pressure from her husband, who thought the idea was absurd, although he couldn’t come up with a better plan.”
Mei rooted around in her wallet as we reached the cash register.
“I got it,” I said and paid the cashier.
“Thanks.” Mei grabbed a straw before we headed toward the dining area. “It gets worse. Linda’s mom lives nearby and has cancer. She goes for chemotherapy. If Linda moved, her mom would be alone during the week. How’s that for a guilt trip?”
I nodded, realizing that with McKenzie dead, Linda might no longer have to make this tough choice.
“By any chance, do you know if Linda has access to the rain forest?” I asked.
“She sure does. She’s in there all the time, researching edible rain forest plants.”
“Do you know who else has a key?”
“The three curators, of course.” Mei furrowed her brow and didn’t speak for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, but I can’t think of anyone else right now.”
We located a vacant table in the back of the cafeteria. “I loved your journalism class,” Mei said as we sat down opposite each other. “Remember how you made us keep daily diaries?”
I laughed. “Yes. And I remember how most of the class didn’t want any part of it.”
“No one wanted to bother, including me.” Mei raised her voice to be heard above the chatter and giggling of three teenage girls sitting at an adjacent table. “But it turned out to be one of the most useful things I did. I keep a daily diary now, and I write all my thoughts in it. Seems strange to write long hand in this computer age, but I find it helps me focus.”
“Good.” I beamed, always pleased when something I did made a lasting impression on a student. “But enough about the past. What are your responsibilities here?”
“I rotate a few weeks in each department, assisting curators with research projects. I began with Saul Mandel and mammals, followed by Amanda Devereux and birds. I started this week with Tim Vanikos and reptiles.”
“Tim’s my brother.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.” Mei frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Mei smiled but it quickly faded. She looked down and opened her iced tea.
I wondered why her expression had changed so quickly. Thinking back to my teaching days, I knew I wouldn’t get more of an explanation, at least not now. Mei would talk when she was ready.
“How’s McKenzie’s widow holding up?” I asked, changing the subject. Since Mei knew all three curators, I figured she’d be a good source of information.
“Amanda Devereux? I guess okay. She never shows emotion so she’s hard to figure out.”
“Don’t the police view the spouse as a murder suspect?” I sipped my coffee.
“Not in this case. Her alibi is airtight. She was too drunk that night.”
“Drunk?” I put down my cup.
“That’s what I heard. McKenzie must have really upset her.” Mei glanced over her shoulders, then leaned forward, lowering her voice. “On the day of the murder, Amanda called a staff meeting after work. By the time everyone arrived, she reeked of alcohol, couldn’t control her balance, and was slurring her words.”
Mei paused to sip her iced tea through a straw. “Luckily, her two bird keepers, Jill and Jeremy, carpool to work. They convinced Amanda to postpone the meeting. Jill took Amanda’s Mercedes and drove her home while Jeremy followed in his car. The housekeeper was off that night, so Jill settled Amanda into bed.”
“Does Amanda live far from here?”
“The Village of Stone Mount. That’s about an hour west. Jill and Jeremy left Amanda’s house around eight-thirty. The murder occurred no later than ten so it’s unlikely Amanda sobered up in time to drive back to the zoo and murder her husband.”
“What if she wasn’t drunk? What if she faked it?”
“I guess it’s possible. But she’d need to fool her entire staff. That’s difficult.”
“You’re sure of this?”
“First, I heard the story from Frank Taggart. He’s in charge of the bird nursery and incubators. He takes great pleasure in telling everyone.”
I remembered Frank from my last visit to the zoo. He’d been deep in conversation with Amanda Devereux. “He’s the zookeeper with the body piercings and snake and spider tattoos, right?”
Mei nodded. “If Frank was the only source, I might not believe it. But Jill told me the same story when I ate lunch with her the other day. She’s worried about her boss.”
Suddenly, Mei’s eyes widened. She stopped talking and stared straight ahead. I couldn’t see what she saw, but it was obvious that she didn’t want our conversation overheard.
I turned around but didn’t recognize anyone.
“Jill is afraid Amanda has a drinking problem,” Mei continued. “There’ve been other signs. I wonder what McKenzie did?”
“That’s the second time you blamed McKenzie. Why?”
“When I first started at the zoo, Amanda was the perfect model of poise and good manners, but lately . . . you wouldn’t believe what happened only a week before McKenzie’s murder.”
I sipped more coffee. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Amanda stayed home from work, claiming she had a stomach virus. Rumor was she had a hangover. Anyway, later that day, she felt better and asked me to stop by her house that evening to review reports. Amanda and I had just finished analyzing the health reports on the hawks when her husband came home. He apologized for being late, claimed he had an emergency meeting with the Chairman of the Board of Trustees.”
“Didn’t Amanda believe him?”
“No. Because the chairman called the house an hour before, looking for him.”
“Caught.” I grinned.
“Amanda confronted McKenzie. He tried changing the subject, but Amanda hung on like a pitbull. She accused him of being with Ginger Hart. They argued right in front of me.”
“That put you in an awkward spot.”
“Tell me about it. The fight got real ugly. McKenzie finally admitted to meeting with Ginger but claimed it was only to tell her she wasn’t getting the promotion he’d promised.”
“What promotion?” I bit into my doughnut.
“Vice President for Public Relations and Development, a new position the zoo director created just for Ginger. But Amanda had found out about it. Since this wasn’t a simple hiring or firing but involved creation of a new job, it needed the approval of the Board of Trustees. Amanda lobbied her friends on the board to turn it down, and they rejected it at their monthly meeting that morning. So, McKenzie met with Ginger later that day to deliver the bad news.”
“Did Amanda believe her husband’s version of the story?”
“I don’t know. A delivery from a local pharmacy interrupted their argument. When Amanda answered the door, McKenzie scooted upstairs. Since I’d finished my work with Amanda, I left . . .” Mei paused. “McKenzie was telling the truth this time. Lyle, who works in the public relations department, overheard the zoo director telling Ginger about the board’s decision. Lyle told me that when Ginger heard she wasn’t getting the promotion, she exploded, creating quite a scene in the office.”
I sat back, processing all that Mei had told me.
Mei glanced at her watch while sucking the last of her iced tea through a straw. “Time to get back to work.”
“Me, too.” I wiped doughnut crumbs off my chin and rose from my chair. “I’ll be spending the rest of the morning at the zoo library, immersed in research.”
“You’re still easy to talk to,” Mei said as we threw our trash in the receptacle and maneuvered our way to the exit. “You’ll be here again, right?”
“At the zoo? Many more times. I need lots more material for my article.”
“Good. I may need your advice.”
&nb
sp; “Something wrong?”
Mei shrugged. “Something doesn’t make sense. But too many pieces are missing, and I can’t explain it without more information. I’ll let you know once I find out more.”
We strolled out the cafeteria doorway in time to spot Ginger Hart hurrying down the path.
“Wonder where she’s headed in such a rush,” I said.
“Probably to the rain forest. The crime scene tape has been removed.”
“Why would Ginger go to the rain forest?”
“She’s planning a big fundraiser there next month. Cocktails on the viewing platforms. One thousand dollars a ticket.” Mei frowned.
“What is it?”
“You asked me before about access to the rain forest. I just remembered. Ginger has a key, too.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
An idea flashed through my mind.
I’d finished my research in the zoo library. On my way to the parking lot, I grabbed my phone and punched in my brother’s work number. “Tim, do you have the McKenzies’ home address?” I didn’t tell him I was at the zoo, only a few yards from his office.
“Sure. Everyone is listed in the staff directory. Why?”
“It’s complicated. I’ll tell you later. Can you give it to me?”
“I’ll look it up, but something tells me I don’t want to know why you need this.”
Now that I knew the five zoo employees with rain forest access, I needed to check out where they were the night of the murder. I’d start with Amanda Devereux. My idea was to verify the driving time from the zoo to the McKenzie house. Amanda’s alibi rested upon her level of intoxication. If the curator wasn’t as drunk as everyone claimed, could she have driven back in time to murder her husband?
Leaving the zoo, I drove west on the Long Island Expressway, then turned north, heading to Stone Mount Village, part of Long Island’s infamous Gold Coast. Soon the scenery became horse farms where sleek thoroughbreds gazed in grassy paddocks, abutting estates whose upkeep could support entire third-world nations. I snaked around the narrow, winding roads until I reached the McKenzie home.