by Lois Schmitt
“No. Dad’s a worrier, and there’s nothing anyone can do.” Glancing at the clock, I sprang from my chair.
“Where are you off to, Mom?”
“The zoo. I’m touring the reptile nursery with Tim. And I intend to find out why my brother lied about his alibi.”
I swung open the French doors and clapped. The two dogs bounded in from the yard and raced to Abby. “I’m out of here,” I said. “Lock the door when you leave.”
“I’ll be gone momentarily. Jason’s great aunt is bringing in her Manx cat. She thinks the cat has ear mites.”
“Jason’s great aunt?” I stood by the counter, facing my daughter. “He’s introducing you to the extended family? Sounds serious.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “His aunt moved into senior housing only a few blocks from the veterinary hospital. She didn’t want the long drive to her old vet, so Jason suggested me. That’s all it is.”
Abby had been dating Jason for five months, but she hadn’t seen much of him lately because he was busy studying for the bar exam. I really liked the recent law school graduate.
After breaking a bagel in half, I palmed the pieces to Archie and Brandy. Expecting a lecture from Abby on weight and canine nutrition, I was surprised when she ignored my actions.
“Be careful,” she instead said. “You and I both know the Escalade that chased you is tied to McKenzie’s murder. You were right with what you said before. Someone knows what you’re doing and that someone doesn’t want you snooping.”
Tim fiddled with his pen.
“Why did you lie?” I sat across from my brother’s desk with his office door shut.
“I didn’t think anyone saw us. I could only imagine how bad my presence at the rain forest would look to the police.”
“It looks worse now.”
Tim glanced down, avoiding my eyes. “I know Saul believes me. But not everyone else does. I can tell by the way my colleagues stared at me this morning.”
“How did they find out so quickly?”
“I’m sure someone here has a pipeline into the police. All you need is one person to hear the news and it spreads. I’ve never seen Barbara so mad. I humiliated her.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“She might leave me.” He squeezed an eraser between his two fingers. “With McKenzie refusing to renew my contract, I had motive. Now, I have no alibi.”
“You’re not the only one with motive. As for alibis, what about the others, like the wildlife nutritionist?”
“Linda Sancho? She attended an animal behavior conference at Ridge River University. The police verified it. Linda asked a question and the speaker remembered her.”
I crossed my legs. “Maybe she slipped out before or after her question.”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s possible.”
“Tim, what exactly does a wildlife nutritionist do?”
“She’s responsible for the diet of every animal here.” Tim stretched back in his chair, his arms behind his head. “Saul almost lost a baby zebra this spring. It couldn’t eat because it couldn’t use its tongue. Do you know why?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
“Lack of vitamin E. Zoo nutritionists not only need to know what animals eat in the wild, but they have to determine the nutrients in the food. Sometimes—”
“Okay, I see.”
“Wait. There’s more. Take the anteater—”
“I get the idea.” My brother either gave one word answers or he sounded like an entry in an encyclopedia. But I needed to find out about Linda’s job, not the anteater’s diet. “As a nutritionist, Linda must be pretty good at chemistry.”
“Her undergraduate major.”
“I guess she works with all types of animals, including snakes.”
“Sure. I’ve consulted with her on more than a dozen occasions.”
Filing that information in my mind, I moved on to the next zoo employee with access to the rain forest. “How about Saul Mandel? What’s his alibi?”
“He arrived home at seven and stayed all night. His wife backs him.”
I didn’t say a word.
“I know what you’re thinking, but I can’t imagine Saul killing anyone.”
“What about Ginger Hart? I heard she exploded when told she wasn’t getting the promotion McKenzie promised.”
“What are you doing? Playing Nancy Drew?”
“Call it a writer’s curiosity. What about physical evidence?
Hair? Fiber?”
“McKenzie met with more than a dozen staffers in the rain forest the afternoon of the murder. He was finalizing plans with Ginger for a fundraiser featuring the new exhibit. So, finding DNA evidence in the area wouldn’t mean a thing. It could have been there hours before. Enough talk of murder. Let’s go to the herpetology nursery. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Tim rose from his chair. As we entered the outer office, talking among the staff suddenly ceased. Tim pretended not to notice, but his face reddened. He walked with his head down as if fascinated with his shoes.
We headed down a narrow corridor until we reached a door with a sign identifying it as the herpetology nursery. As we stepped inside the facility, the stillness reminded me of the silent nature of reptiles. I heard the sound of my footfalls on the concrete floor as I wandered through the room and gazed at tanks housing newborn snakes and lizards.
“Unlike baby birds and mammals, reptile hatchlings emerge ready to catch prey,” Tim explained. “The hatchlings emerge from eggs,” he added.
I shuddered. Aside from a warning hiss, snakes didn’t make a sound. Noiseless, odorless, and well camouflaged. You might not know one was near until it was within striking distance. No wonder they were such formidable enemies.
After the tour, we returned to Tim’s office where he explained egg fertilization procedures and discussed the successes and failures of the breeding program. He began talking about his current project, breeding the Morlett crocodile.
“On Thursday my intern will remove crocodile eggs from their nest for incubation.”
“Intern?” I said. “Is that Mei Lau?”
Tim nodded.
“Mei was my high school student.”
“I didn’t know that. Would you like to watch the egg collection?”
“I’d love it,” I said, rising from my chair. Besides providing insight for my article, I knew something was bothering Mei, and I hoped she was ready to talk.
“Then be here by eleven-thirty.” He glanced at the stack of papers on the side of his desk. “Now I need to get back to these reports.”
Before exiting, I turned to say good-bye. But my brother wasn’t reading his reports. His chin rested on his hands, and he was staring into space.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“You’re as bad as he was,” said a voice from behind the cafeteria. “You only care about appearances. You don’t give a damn about the animals.”
“Without publicity, there wouldn’t be any animals. Is that what you want? Do you want the zoo to close, you stupid idiot?”
Recognizing the second voice, I crept along the side of the building and peeked around the corner.
“That money is from a federal wildlife nutrition grant. It’s meant for research, not promotional videos.” Linda Sancho pointed a finger in Ginger Hart’s face. “I’m reporting this to Saul Mandel.”
Ginger pushed down Linda’s hand. “Go right ahead. But remember, the Chairman of the Board of Trustees is enthusiastic about the project. And Saul is only the acting director. Do you want Saul to squash a project the board chairman likes?”
“You are despicable.” Linda whirled around and stomped off.
I scooted back to the front of the building and waited. A few seconds later, a scowling Ginger came forward.
“Ginger. I’m glad I ran into you.”
The anger on Ginger’s face dissipated, a smile quickly appearing. “I’m glad you did too. I’ve good news. Amanda Devereux is willing to be inter
viewed, so my assistant set you up with an appointment at ten-fifteen this Thursday. He was planning to call you later.”
“Perfect.”
“Contact my office if you need anything else.” Ginger started to walk away.
“Do you have a few minutes for me now? I need more background information on the zoo.”
Ginger paused as if considering her response. “I usually assign someone from my staff to work with writers from minor publications like yours. But I could use a cup of tea. Why don’t we go inside the cafeteria and talk?”
“Great. I’d like some coffee.” But more than coffee, I wanted the opportunity to question Ginger about the murder.
“We have a special here today,” Ginger said as we navigated through the crowd inside the building. “Sugar cookies shaped like elephants. Part of our Pachyderm Power Program. It was my idea. Each week, the cookies are in the form of a different animal. Next week is Monkey Madness.”
Upon reaching the food line, Ginger grabbed a tea bag, poured hot water, and selected an elephant cookie with white icing. “They still have quite a few left. I’ll have to talk to the food service manager about displaying them more prominently.”
Deciding it might be smart to support Ginger’s public relations stunt, I chose a pink iced elephant along with my coffee, then joined her at a small corner table, away from the noise. Ginger described upcoming projects, sounding like a public service announcement.
“Besides the emotional impact of Arlen McKenzie’s death, it must affect the zoo’s daily operations,” I said, weaving the murder into our conversation.
“You better believe it. I’m so busy handling the media I don’t have time to perform my normal functions. Of course, the rain forest was closed for several days, too. That’s one of our biggest attractions.” Ginger sipped her tea. “Your magazine should do a feature story on the rain forest.”
“I’ll mention it to my editor. The police must be a disruptive influence. I understand they’re questioning all staff with keys to the exhibit.”
Ginger nodded.
Deciding a smooth segue was impossible, I came right to the point. “Did they ask you for an alibi?”
“Yes. I had dinner that night at my favorite Greek restaurant, Treasures of Zeus. Not that it’s any of your business.” She rose from her chair. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to take the heat off Tim. It’s not happening. At least not with me. My alibi is airtight.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After leaving the zoo, I drove to the Animal Advocate magazine office, located in a two-story building in the downtown business district. The first story housed a law firm and insurance agency. Animal Advocate occupied the second floor. The publication operated on a tight budget with barely more than a dozen full-time employees.
I trudged up the stairs and pushed open the office door, first to be confronted by a blast of air from the recently repaired air-conditioning system, then by Clara Schultheis, resident gossip and conspiracy theorist. She was also administrative assistant to the editor.
“Kristy, I’ve been waiting for you,” she called out from her desk, located only a few feet from the door. “What’s the inside scoop on McKenzie’s murder?”
“All I know is what I read in the papers.” I tried scooting around her.
“Want to hear my theory?” she whispered loudly, stopping me in my tracks. “I think Arlen McKenzie was involved with blackmail.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Remember the stories about the former director, the one before Arlen McKenzie? The one who died of cancer? There were rumors about funny stuff involving the zoo’s money during his tenure.”
“My brother told me all about that at the time. He says it wasn’t true, just media sensationalism. There’s no evidence of embezzlement, only bad business decisions made by a dying director who wasn’t really paying attention to business.”
Clara scratched her head, oblivious to the mess it made of her short gray hair. “I don’t believe that’s the whole story. My personal theory is that when McKenzie was hired, he uncovered a money scandal, swept it under the rug, and blackmailed the embezzler. That’s who killed him.”
“Come on, Clara. How can you say that? You have no proof.”
Clara winked over the top of her half-moon glasses. “I’m usually right about these things.”
“And Elvis has been sighted in Afghanistan,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Did you say something?”
“Is Olivia in?” I asked, quickly changing the subject.
The office of the magazine’s editor, Olivia Johnson, was less than fifteen feet away from Clara’s desk. Her door was shut.
“She’s interviewing someone for feature writer,” Clara said. “He majored in journalism at some Ivy League college. Just graduated this May.”
“Damn!”
“Don’t worry. I still think you’ll get the job. I’m rooting for you.”
“Thanks, Clara.” I felt like a deflated balloon.
“He’s arrogant. You know the type. He comes from money and expects things to fall his way as a natural right. Olivia hates that attitude.”
“If he’s good, Olivia won’t care if he has the personality of Attila the Hun.”
“You got the temporary position,” Clara said. “That gives you a heads-up on everyone.”
Fretting about my competition wouldn’t help but writing a good story could. I wandered back to my cubicle and spent the rest of the day researching the mating habits of endangered gorillas.
Late afternoon, with my mind chockful of facts about gorilla sex, I shut down my computer and sat back. As my thoughts wandered to my earlier conversation with Ginger Hart, an idea popped into my head. I located the phone directory and thumbed through the pages.
The same town. My hunch was right. I grabbed the phone and punched in Abby’s number.
“Have you plans for dinner?” I asked my daughter. “Are you going out with friends? Or Jason?”
“Jason’s living on take-out pizza until the bar exam. Actually, I have no plans, but I wanted to make it an early night. I thought I’d eat something from the four basic food groups. You know, restaurant, take-out, microwave, or sandwiches.”
I laughed. “Let’s make it restaurant. My treat. Tonight is your father’s monthly poker game, so it will be just the two of us.”
“A Mexican restaurant just opened up on the boardwalk near my place.”
“We’ll try that some other time. I feel like Greek food tonight.”
“We never go to Greek restaurants. What’s up, Mom?”
“There’s a place called Treasures of Zeus that I’ve heard is excellent. It’s right off exit 60 on the expressway.”
“That’s the exit you take for the Rocky Cove Zoo. This has to do with McKenzie’s murder, doesn’t it?”
“It’s the restaurant where Ginger Hart supposedly ate that night.”
“Supposedly? You want to find a hole in her alibi? Don’t you think the police checked?”
“Maybe they missed something.”
When Abby didn’t respond, I added, “The police may be satisfied with the answers they received, but did they ask the right questions?”
“I suppose you know what to ask.”
“I certainly do. I’ll pick you up at the veterinary hospital after work.”
After battling the Long Island Expressway traffic, I pulled into the parking lot behind my husband’s veterinary hospital, where I noticed a dent in the green Ford Mustang belonging to Matt’s office assistant.
Katie had only bought the car two months ago.
My husband’s car was not in his reserved parking space. I remembered he’d scheduled a meeting to inquire about financing for new veterinary equipment.
A sinking feeling arose in the pit of my stomach as I wondered what would happen if he couldn’t get the money he needed. I pushed that thought out of my mind as I crossed the parking lot and pulled open the building
door.
A large woman held a cat carrier on her lap. Across from her, a man restrained a barking German shepherd on a short leash, while at the opposite end of the room, a woman cradled a yapping Pomeranian, lovingly referred to by the veterinary staff as a canine dust bunny.
Business appeared to be good. But I couldn’t help but wonder about the new health and wellness center. Would these clients abandon my husband for the services of an impersonal national chain?
At the reception counter, Katie Kelly, the twenty-two-year-old office assistant, handed a brown and white packet of pills to a small wizened man.
“Hi, Katie,” I said. “What happened to your car?”
“Parking lot accident. And what’s going on at Rocky Cove? Abby said you found the body.”
“I certainly did.”
“It was on the news again at lunch. The police commissioner issued a statement about how the department would be working swiftly and diligently to solve the case, blah, blah, blah.”
I couldn’t remember the last time the commissioner called a press conference on an individual crime. Such remarks came from the detective in charge of the case or the department’s press office. But Arlen McKenzie had powerful connections. That meant they’d be looking for a quick solution and that didn’t bode well for Tim.
“Is Abby still with a patient?” I asked.
“She just finished with Cyrus,” Katie said to me, gesturing toward an old-looking Doberman being led to the door by a teenager.
I spun around and saw my daughter, stethoscope swinging from her neck.
“Mom, I texted you earlier. When you didn’t respond I phoned and left a message.”
“What’s up?”
“We’ve had a few minor emergencies. I still have patients to see so I’ll be working at least another hour.”
“We can still go to the restaurant. I’ll run some errands and come back for you, okay?”
Abby agreed and made her way toward an examining room. I wanted to ask Katie more about her car accident, but she was on the phone describing the pros and cons of a gerbil as a house pet, so I waved good-bye and decided I’d get the scoop on the accident when I returned.