by Edie Claire
Leigh found the vending shed and sighed a breath of relief. The pay phone was still there beside it, and it appeared to be in working order. She stepped up into the old-fashioned booth and picked up the receiver, then stared blankly at the numbered buttons beneath. 911 would reach the local cops—but what could she tell them? That someone she was scared of was at the zoo? Kristin was probably wanted for questioning, but the city cops might not know about that, and there couldn't be a warrant out for Kristin's arrest—not with charges still pending against Leigh.
She had to call Frank.
A dial tone buzzed in her ear, but she paused again. She had no money. 911 calls were free, but this didn't count. Was her entire plan going down the drain for lack of a quarter? She was about to panic when her rational side caught up with her endorphins. It wasn't a problem. She knew her phone-card number. She could charge it.
Calm down.
She took a deep breath, then pushed 0. She would ask the operator to connect her with the city detectives, and Frank would come through. He had to. He owed her.
"Detective Frank isn't available at the moment," a receptionist at the bureau answered dryly. Perhaps one of the other detectives could take your call?"
"Yes, fine." Leigh stammered impatiently, looking toward some bushes that her paranoid imagination seemed to think were moving a little. "Get anybody. Just do it quick, okay?" She shuffled her feet on the concrete slab, irritated at the gaping holes that were now so apparent in her plan. Sure, this had been the closest phone, but what was she going to do now? She couldn't go out the way she came in, and security would have a fit when they saw her—it might even get her bail revoked. On the other hand, there was Kristin. Who was now, in all likelihood, on the same side of the fence as Leigh was.
The wait for another detective seemed to take ages, but at least the bushes weren't moving anymore. Or after all.
"Hello. Detective Fanelli here. What can I do for you?"
Leigh opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead a piercing crash assaulted her ears, and hundreds of glass shards rained over her arm and side.
Chapter 22
Maura's Escort reached the North Side of Pittsburgh about the same time she and Frank finished piecing together a credible theory. They were almost within sight of the zone station when a ringing sound radiated from under Frank's coat. With reluctance, he withdrew the cell phone clipped to his belt. "This had better not be another surprise," he said gruffly.
After punching in some numbers and barking out his name, Frank listened for a moment, then turned towards Maura. She watched in alarm as his pupils darted about nervously.
"You got a caller ID?" he asked someone brusquely. After another moment of listening, he spoke quickly. "We're near there now—send back-up." He replaced the phone on his belt and turned to Maura. "Forget the station. We've got to get to the zoo. Fast."
***
At first, Leigh thought she'd been shot. The explosion had been sudden and loud, and to say it startled her would be an understatement. She burst out of the phone booth as if she were on fire, running madly towards she didn't know where. She didn't stop till she had reached the bear caves, where she whipped through the staff-only gate and crouched on the other side. Her breath was coming heavy, and she tried to calm it.
What had happened? One second she was about to tell the detective all, the next, she was taking a shower in glass. She looked down at her arms, and was surprised to note only a few shallow scratches. What had broken the booth window? She didn't remember hearing a gunshot, only the breaking glass. Had someone thrown something?
She stood up and looked cautiously around the side of the gate. Seeing and hearing no one, she crouched down again. Was she overreacting? If Kristen had come in the employee entrance, she couldn't possibly have found Leigh so fast. How would she know where to look? Perhaps the glass had broken because of—. She searched for a creative explanation, but found none forthcoming.
Someone had thrown something. Maybe just to scare her, or—an even less comforting thought—to interrupt her call. So much for doing the police a favor. Now she was here with no way to contact them, and no defense against a murderess.
Think.
She realized she shouldn't really be alone. Security was supposed to patrol the zoo all night—"supposed to" being the operative phrase. She had never actually seen a guard patrolling. Word had it that "the patrol" was a loose circuit running between the ape house and the main security shack— which shared the distinction of having television sets.
Her options were limited. She could come out from her hiding place and start running—and screaming—until she attracted attention. But the bear caves weren't particularly close to either end of the security loop, and it could be a long time before she caught up with a guard—a long enough time for someone else to catch up with her. She could try to get back to her car—but that was risky, too. The fence nearest to her was up on a rise, and quite visible. Not to mention that she'd have a difficult time keeping her mouth shut when the barbed-wire at the top started drawing her blood.
Think. Think.
Perhaps her best option was to head for the nearest security hub—the main shack—but to do it quietly. Presumably, whoever had assaulted the phone booth had already lost track of her. If she stayed low, she had a good chance of avoiding detection till she got within screaming range of the shack.
She had just steeled herself to stand up and peer around the gate again when a sound stopped her. Soft footsteps, trekking slowly down the path.
She sucked in her breath, her heart beating madly against her breastbone. Who was it? It could be a security guard, and if it was, her problems were over. But could she dare look?
The footsteps stopped for a moment, and Leigh heard a whistle. It was a high, accomplished whistle, and the tune was hauntingly familiar. The words popped into her head with a grim irony. Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight?
An old tune, and one she might not know, except that in the seventh-grade choir she'd been forced to sing it till she dropped. She liked singing, but she hated the school choir because—. Her racing heart stopped for a moment. Because there were some rough girls in it that she was afraid of. Part of the Seville Elementary crowd. And Kristin had been one of them.
The footsteps started up again, and this time sounded as if they were coming closer. Leigh curled her body into as tight a ball as possible on the ground behind the gate, breathing between her knees as softly as she could. The footsteps stopped, and she lifted her head.
A woman's fingers appeared around the edge of the gate, pushing it slowly in. And dance by the light of the moon.
Leigh considered springing—at least she would have the advantage of surprise. But she had no idea what type of weapon her pursuer might be carrying—and she, in the meantime, had nothing. Her flashlight had long since fallen out of her pocket, and there was nothing on the ground—not even a rock.
Despite her poor odds, Leigh readied herself. She and Kristin were roughly the same size—if she could knock the other woman to the ground, she could tell pretty quickly if there were a weapon involved. Anything less than a heat-seeking machine gun, and Leigh would run off screaming.
She drew in a deep breath, but held it. The gate stopped moving in, and the hand was withdrawn. An eternity passed as the figure stood somewhere on the other side of the gate, not moving. Leigh thought about pushing the gate out quickly to knock the woman off balance, but she wasn't sure it swung out far enough—and if it fell short, she would be in big trouble.
So instead she did nothing, just listened to the occasional scuffling noise the woman's shoes made as she pivoted in place. Finally, Leigh heard her make a sighing noise, and the footsteps moved slowly away.
When the footsteps were so faint she could barely hear them, Leigh allowed herself a few deep breaths. She couldn't go back out on the main path—Kristin would be looking for the slightest movement. She'd have to slink around as best she could
behind the exhibits, snaking her way slowly down to the security shack—no matter how long it took.
She tried to remember what the layout was like behind the bear caves, but she hadn't a clue. She'd had no cause to be there as an employee, and zoo visitors were never allowed in the tunnels.
When the footsteps became too distant to be heard, she uncurled herself and stood up. The staff area here was sparse—a trash bin by the gate, and the tunnel entrance. There was nowhere else to go, except the same way Kristin had gone. Leigh looked over her shoulder and walked slowly toward the tunnel, which was blocked by an iron gate. For a moment she thought it was locked, but was surprised to find only a flip latch. She jerked the gate gently at first, but found it opened with ease, and without a squeak.
Wishing she had somehow managed to hold on to her flashlight, she slipped into the dark tunnel and began groping forward along the damp walls. A thin area of light shown up ahead, and as she neared it she realized it was the opening into the brown bear run. Between the moon and the single security spot mounted on the trail outside, there was just enough light streaming through the thick bars to expose another gate farther down. Both gates were secured with padlocks, of which she was glad. For while the near one led only to the empty outdoor run, the far one led to the indoor cave, and had brown-bear fur poking through its base.
Leigh sucked in her breath again and moved quietly past the sleeping bear. All she needed now was to irritate him. He might make noise and attract attention, or—should he suddenly jump up and growl at her—she would.
She crept along past the bear without incident, and managed to pass the polar bear and grizzly runs in like fashion. Last would be the sun bears, and then—if there was justice in the world—another unlocked tunnel opening. She tried to remember if there were another staff gate at the bottom end of the bear caves, but her memory failed her. All she could remember was the gift shop; if it did have a gate beside it, she had probably never noticed.
The sun bears were also in residence in their cave, lounging idly. At first Leigh thought they were asleep, but as she passed they opened their large brown eyes and stared at her suspiciously. Despite the thick bars, she felt a pang of panic at moving along in the dark tunnel within inches of their giant claws. But the sun bears' interest quickly fizzled, and as she crept slowly along the far wall, their eyes closed again. Leigh looked ahead with hope. One more bend in the tunnel, and she would be free. Kristin would have long since lost track of her, and she could easily sneak behind the gift shop, around the fence line behind the petting zoo, and on to the security shack.
Things were looking up.
She rounded the bend and headed toward the exit, which appeared, like its uphill mate, to have only a flip latch. Light filtered in from the security spotlight over the gift shop, and Leigh could see that the gate led out to yet another trash bin. She opened it with enthusiasm, but slowed the motion when the gate creaked loudly. Easing out as best she could without moving the gate any more, she finally found herself in the open air.
She took a deep breath and shook out her arms. Her back ached from tensing, but relief was in sight. She started around the back of the gift shop, stopping cold as the soft voice reached her ears.
"Hello, Leigh."
Chapter 23
Leigh froze in her tracks, not daring to turn around. The signals she was getting from her brain didn't make sense, and it annoyed her. She couldn't have heard the voice she just heard.
Or could she?
The wheels in her head spun, and she swallowed hard. Yes, of course it was possible. It was, in fact, quite probable. And she should have guessed it before.
She took a deep breath and turned around, determined to face her pursuer without showing fear. How good a job she did, she couldn't know.
"Hello, Carmen."
***
"These are their cars all right," Frank barked to the uniformed team as he shone a flashlight first in Leigh's Cavalier, then in the tan Eldorado parked behind it. "Why the hell aren't they at one of the gates?"
"Detective!" Maura called from the nearby fence line. "I think they went in here." She shone her flashlight over the maple tree to give him the gist, then headed back to the Escort, which was only a few yards away. She could pass a physical when she had to, but with her bulk, gymnastics were out of the question. She drove the car up under the tree, stepped onto the hood, and hoisted herself onto the lowest limb.
The uniformed officers followed, with Frank bringing up the rear. "Zoo security's been alerted," he announced when all four had swung down inside the fence. "Keep your eyes open. The perp may or may not be armed, but she's a psychopath, so watch your backs. Look for a female, five-seven or five-eight, slender build, with long black hair. And whatever the hell you do, don't get her mixed up with Leigh Koslow. She's five-six, medium build, with shoulder-length brown hair."
The officers received the rest of their orders and started off, while Maura scoured the area around the payphone with her flashlight. "No blood," she reported tonelessly. "No signs of a struggle. Just broken glass—and a rock."
Frank exhaled. "Let's start looking, then."
Maura nodded, and they set off.
***
"I guess you weren't expecting me, huh?"
Carmen Koslow leaned casually against the sloping wall by the tunnel exit, twisting her hair idly between her fingers. Only it wasn't the long, raven hair she'd been so proud of. It was chopped off unevenly just above her shoulders, and appeared in the dim light to be a bizarre, burnt-orange color.
"I know—it looks like crap," she said, following Leigh's eyes. "'Cinnamon Silk,' my ass. I'm going to get the company that sells this junk, I swear to God I am. But the cut isn't bad, I mean, I had to do it myself. That's pretty hard. You ever tried it?"
Leigh stood as calmly as she could, watching. Carmen sounded just like she always had—chatty and friendly. It was as if they were doing lunch, not playing cat and mouse in a dark zoo.
"I'm glad you came," Carmen continued amiably. "I need you to do me a favor. I've got to get to D.C., and I don't want the fuzz hassling me. Okay?"
Leigh studied the perfectly friendly sociopath in front of her, and tried hard not to be lulled into a false sense of security. As far as she could tell, Carmen had no weapon—there wasn't anything in her hands, and there didn't appear to be anything on the ground beside her. But the spotlight above the gift shop cast a shadow over her left side, and Leigh couldn't be sure there was nothing in the pockets of her bulky jacket. So she stood still.
"I was hoping you'd just commit suicide or something," Carmen suggested matter-of-factly. "After all, you're facing a pretty hefty prison sentence. That would be great for everybody, because then Mike could get off."
Leigh had a response in mind, but stopped the words before they came out. She had to be careful what she said. There was a chance she might talk herself out of this—or at least get far enough away from Carmen to make a run for it. "Mike loves you," she said softly. It came off the top of her head, but she was running with it.
Carmen scoffed. "Like hell he does. He never loved anybody but the wench. But he and I are good together. I'm going to come back and see him now and then, and I don't want him in jail."
"Have you talked to him?" Leigh asked, not entirely sure where she was going with the question.
"Nah. I thought I'd wait till I got this fixed up," Carmen answered, gesturing toward her hair. "It makes me so damn mad—I should have just got a wig."
Leigh closed her eyes for a second to orient her thoughts. Carmen was being her old self—obsessing about her appearance, letting Leigh in on all her shallow little concerns. But this wasn't the same harmless Carmen who had made homeroom so interesting over a decade ago. This was the Carmen who had killed her own best friend, cut her body into pieces, and stolen her identity. Probably just to get out of debt.
"You think I look like her?" Carmen asked.
Leigh didn't need to ask who "her" was. "N
o," she answered carefully, "You're much prettier."
"Yeah, I know," Carmen said dryly. "Mike loves me, not Kristin. He never loved her. I'm glad she didn't get the chance to tell him."
Leigh didn't bother pointing out the inconsistencies in Carmen's claims. She had learned early on that doing so was pointless. Sociopaths never saw inconsistencies. "Tell him what?" Leigh prompted. She thought—just for a moment—that she had heard something beyond the fence.
"About her being knocked up," Carmen answered, rolling her eyes. "What do you think?"
Leigh said nothing. There was no more noise. Perhaps it was her imagination. She preferred to think it was zoo security. Pretending to be surprised, she spoke as loud as she dared. "Kristin was pregnant?"
Carmen looked at her as if she had a screw loose. "She said she was. It ticked me off, actually. Mike wanted babies, but the wench wouldn't have any. I told him I would, but—well, anyway."
An image of the teenaged Carmen flashed back into Leigh's mind. The long absence sophomore year. Carmen had come to school looking pale and thin, and told everyone she'd had mono. Junior year, she told Leigh she'd really had an abortion, got infected, and was really messed up inside. That's why she didn't have to worry about birth control. Leigh hadn't believed a word of it at the time. But in retrospect, it made a sick kind of sense. If Kristin not only slept with Tanner but was going to give him the one thing Carmen couldn't—it would have made Carmen furious. Really furious.
"This has been fun, Leigh," Carmen began, standing, "but we've got to get going." She dusted off the seat of her jeans and straightened her jacket. She still appeared to have no weapon.
Leigh remained still, and took another deep breath. We?
They both jerked as the full contingent of zoo lights switched on, illuminating the paths like a stadium. "What the hell—" Carmen began, wheeling around.