Inside, Lexie waited eagerly for me, and I just as eagerly hugged her and told her what a good girl she was. We went outside for her evening constitutional, and then I settled down and tried calling Dante.
No answer. Was he in jail?
Well, I’d find out tomorrow. I was heading back to the San Bernardino area after my early pet-sitting.
I GOT A call while enjoying my early walk with Beauty, the golden retriever, the next morning. I hoped it was Dante.
Instead, it was Lauren Vancouver of HotRescues. “Anything new on the claim by Efram Kiley?” she inquired.
“No,” I said, just as glad I had nothing to report. I hadn’t yet come up with the perfect solution. I’d often used my animal dispute resolution skills to find a way to soothe ruffled egos by finding the complainer a new and similar pet. That wouldn’t work this time. None of us on our side would want to see Kiley, who’d allegedly abused the pup in question, wind up with another dog if he’d harm it, and there was no good way to confirm his story that the energetic pup had injured himself. “These things sometimes take a long time.” A good thing. “I’ll certainly let you know if I hear anything—or come up with something substantial—and you do the same. Okay?”
“Okay. And … by the way, how’s Dante?”
“Okay, I think,” I said lightly. “I hope to see him later today to make sure.”
“That murder investigation that’s been on the news … ?”
“Yeah, it’s a bit of a mess, isn’t it? The cops on the case don’t have a good suspect yet, or that’s what I think. Oops. Gotta go. I’m walking a dog right now, and she’s gotta go. And I’ll need to clean up after her. Talk to you soon.” I ended the connection, not really wanting to talk anymore to Lauren, or anyone else, about the Jon Doe death investigation that so far had gotten me nowhere.
Soon, Lexie and I were Escaping east toward HotWildlife and beyond. I had already run a reverse directory search on the address Gibson had given me, where he claimed mama wolf had been taken. It seemed awfully odd. The place was on the way to Lake Arrowhead—and it was the location of a petting zoo. Actually, it was a place that maintained animals to bring to parties and such for kiddies to pet them.
They’d have a wolf there? Mama wolf wouldn’t be pettable. And with all the stuff in the news about HotWildlife, the missing wolf, and the murder, surely the owners would have known to contact authorities if a strange wolf had somehow shown up on their doorstep.
More likely, if they saw a strange wolf like that, they’d have killed her to prevent her from eating their petting charges.
I shuddered at that idea, and prayed that if mama wolf happened to be there, she was hale, hearty, and ready to go home to her babies. Maybe a place where animals were nurtured wouldn’t harm any creatures … I hoped.
I soon reached the address. It started with a gated driveway along the road, which was otherwise lined with shrubbery, alongside a chain-link fence. A sign proclaimed it was the Amazing Animal Farm, as I’d found on the Internet. I stopped and pressed the security button. On the way, I’d come up with my cover story to see the place—and look for mama wolf.
“Yes?” said a female voice over the intercom.
“Hi, my name is Kendra, and I’m a teacher. I’m hoping you can bring some animals to my school to help educate the children. May I come in and talk to you?”
“Well, sure, although it would have been better if you called first. Just a second.”
The gate swung open, and I drove up a gravel driveway that was lined with fenced-in areas filled with dirt and—what else?—animals. I saw several ponies, a potbellied pig—love ’em!—some goats, and even a pair of llamas. How fun!
But I didn’t see a wolf.
At the end of the drive was a small ranch house with a paved parking area beside it. I pulled into the lot, beneath a big tree that would provide shade, and left Lexie in the car with the windows cracked open for air.
Air that Lexie, who enjoyed all sorts of scents, would go wild over. It smelled like—what else?—multiple animals.
A lady in jeans and a plaid work shirt waited on the front porch. She looked mid-forties, and her mid-brown hair was plaited into braids. I approached her.
“Hi,” she said. “My name is Esta. Come on, and I’ll show you around. My husband’s not here right now, or he could talk to you, too.” Were there other people present? I didn’t see any, which was a good thing, considering all I wanted to accomplish. “What school do you teach at?”
“Ford Elementary School in Fontana,” I said, hoping there really wasn’t such a place. “I’m planning an assembly to help teach kids about unusual animals.”
“Ours are not especially unusual, although they mostly aren’t kinds used as house pets.” She pointed out the llamas, who sauntered curiously toward us within their enclosure. They seemed rather bored by the whole experience. “Lately, a lot more people in the U.S. are raising llamas, but you still don’t see many in Southern California.”
“Perfect,” I proclaimed. What I really wanted to do was demand that she take me to see mama wolf, but instead I continued, “Not only farm-type animals, but those will be great, too. But do you have any even more unusual sorts? Wild animals, for example, that aren’t generally seen around here?”
We began walking along a path that wove between the various enclosures. “Not many,” Esta said. “We’re not a wildlife sanctuary or anything like that, though if we come across anything needing help, we try to call in the right assistance.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said. But if it was true, why did she sound somewhat defensive?
I didn’t feel as if I was really getting anywhere, and so, instead of following Esta, I headed in a different direction along the paths, up toward the side of the house.
“Oh, this way,” she called to me. “I want to show you our ponies.”
I ignored her and hurried forward. Okay, I was kind of trespassing. I’d been invited onto the property, but not to dash off my own way. Even so, I figured that if mama wolf was there, she wasn’t in an area where Esta was willing to show me around.
I saw several small sheds behind the main house. I couldn’t really get too far ahead of Esta, so I headed for the closest shed. It was gray weathered wood, looked like it needed lots of maintenance, and the door was open. I looked in. There were all kinds of relatively small cages, stacked one on top of another. I wasn’t happy to see that. Were the animals inside being treated well enough? Or was their abuse the reason Esta hadn’t invited me here immediately?
“What’s in there?” I asked brightly, as if I was simply a curious teacher wanting to see more animals.
“We have some raccoons and rabbits and such that we keep in here. All the smaller crates are empty. We use them when we have to transport animals to places like schools, but we don’t want to confine the animals in them too long.”
“Oh. That’s good. And what other creatures do you have here?” I edged around her and headed for the next shed.
“What’s going on?” Esta demanded, attempting to block my path. “Who are you, really?”
Uh-oh. Busted.
“I’m here representing HotWildlife,” I responded with chilly accusation in my tone. “And I recently learned that you have our stolen wolf here.”
Esta visibly paled. “Who told you that?”
“It’s confidential. Now, please take me to see the wolf.”
“But I don’t … I can’t …”
I pulled my cell phone from the bottom of my large purse. “Then I’ll call the authorities to come here and retrieve her.”
Esta reached toward me, and I stepped back. I wasn’t sure how well I’d do in a fight against her, and didn’t especially want to find out. I decided I’d do exactly as I said, and started pressing in 911. Better safe than sorry, I figured.
But she stopped moving and started crying. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize at first, and then when I did, I was afraid we’d lose our licenses, and—I
shouldn’t have agreed. Go ahead. Take her back.”
And somehow, miraculously, Esta led me not into any of the sheds, but behind one where a large enclosed area had been fenced in, including a covering over the top.
Inside lay a large gray wolf who looked familiar. The canine looked dejected until we approached.
Too bad no one had named her yet, so I couldn’t gauge who she was by her reaction to a word. Even so, she stood up alertly and started pacing in her enclosure as we approached.
“Do you miss your babies, mama?” I asked softly. She stared at me as if she understood, and stopped walking. “I think it’s time you get to see them again.”
I immediately called Megan Zurich, watching Esta’s eyes the entire time. They were wet but watchful, and I felt somewhat unnerved. At least now someone knew where I was. And why.
I wished it had been Dante, too, but he had never returned my phone call, and I suspected he was still with the sheriff’s department. Poor guy.
Yet I wasn’t sure this tidbit of extra information would do much to resolve that, even though it had come from Gibson Callaway. What else had he intended to relate to me by this discovery? I suspected, from what he actually had said, that he’d also intended some subliminal message.
I asked the obvious. “Who brought her here? Who got you to agree to keep her?”
She stayed silent.
“You’re going to have to tell the authorities anyway. Why not start with me?”
“I can’t,” she wailed. “I promised.”
“Was it Warren Beell, the man who brought her to HotWildlife in the first place?”
“He is so nice to take in injured animals,” she responded obliquely, without actually answering. Since it wasn’t an absolute yes, I decided to see her reaction to others I named.
“Then is it someone connected with HotWildlife … like the director, Megan Zurich?”
Her expression seemed somewhat surprised through her tears, so I surmised her answer was negative. Maybe. But at least for now I’d try to trust Megan.
“One of the caretakers? Like the dead one, Jon Doe?”
She shuddered and asserted, “Heavens, no.”
That would have been too easy, I supposed.
“Another caretaker?” No response but a stubborn set to her chin despite her tears. “Some other employee?” Still nothing. “A volunteer?” I asked in growing irritation. And still nothing. Well, I did have an idea how to find out.
I called Megan again, quickly, telling her not to bring the cops, but a way of transporting mama wolf. And not to mention to anyone but Dante, if he happened to show up in the interim, where she was going, and why.
Jon Doe’s murderer could have killed him because Doe had seen that person abscond with the wolf, though that seemed like a slim motive. Maybe blackmail or something worse was involved.
But the fact that Gibson Callaway knew where mama wolf had gone supported my current assumption that the incidents were related. Sure, he could have learned incidentally about the wolfnapping as he poked his nose into Doe’s death—or even caused it to occur. Yet I’d had a sense that the tidbit he had thrown me, the place where I could find the missing wolf, also contained other clues. He knew I wanted to protect Dante, and simply helping me find the wolf, without more, wouldn’t help with that—or necessarily keep me from spilling my guts to the news media about Gibson’s own possible involvement. Helping me learn other answers was his best means of self-protection.
He could have learned mama wolf’s whereabouts as part of his investigation into Doe’s death. Or in his assistance with Doe’s intended revenge against Dante and Brody.
Or simply because, as a DOJ director, he was officially omniscient—or at least had unlimited resources.
I felt sure he’d never tell me the truth about his info source … at least not directly. But if I was correct in these assumptions, the way I now intended to learn the identity of the wolfnapper might also assist me in figuring out who the murderer was.
If not, I’d keep on with my own kind of investigation.
I really hoped to point an accurate finger at the killer before Dante was sent to prison.
Chapter Twenty-eight
OF COURSE, IT took a while for Megan to arrive. I checked on Lexie now and then, and otherwise sat on the front porch of the house with Esta without getting any more info from her. I nevertheless sometimes shot a name at her—Dante’s and Brody’s included, even though they had nothing to do with mama wolf’s abduction. Her eyes widened at their august names, but she still said nothing to admit or deny who could have had a hand in what had gone on there.
I kept watching the driveway, hoping Esta’s husband didn’t get there before Megan. I hadn’t allowed her to slip into the house, even when she claimed she needed to pee, so she hadn’t been able to call him. I gathered she didn’t have a cell phone in her pocket.
In a while, I heard a buzz from somewhere in the house. “That’s the security gate,” she said irritably. “Are you going to let me open it?”
“Depends,” I said cheerfully. “Let’s go find out who it is.” The voice was Megan’s. And I was absolutely relieved and delighted to see that she hadn’t come alone.
Dante was with her in her enclosed pickup truck.
Dante got out first and dashed in my direction. He grabbed me by the shoulders with his large hands. He was clad in nice slacks and a button-down shirt, so I figured he’d come straight from his interrogation, or was heading there again. “Are you all right, Kendra?” he demanded, glaring at me angrily with his dark, sparking eyes, as if he dared me to say no.
“Of course,” I said. “What about you? I take it you’re not under arrest.”
“Not yet. We’ll talk about that later. Let’s get the wolf home first. And then there’s a lot you’d better tell me.”
“Ditto,” I said, then caught Megan’s amused smile as she stood off to the side.
Her smile disappeared immediately, and I turned to see Esta on the move.
“Great,” I said. “I’m sure you were on your way to show these nice people from HotWildlife where they could retrieve the wolf stolen from there, weren’t you, Esta?”
She looked stricken and scared. “Well … sure,” she said, then motioned halfheartedly. “This way.”
It was only a short while until mama wolf was crated in the back of Megan’s truck, and we were convoying back to HotWildlife.
We’d left Esta at home. She seemed to care enough about her animals that I doubted she’d abandon them to run away. And at this point, I still wasn’t ready to call in the authorities.
Plus, I’d reminded Dante that he had offered a reward for info leading to the safe return of mama wolf. I certainly wasn’t about to suggest he pay anything to the source of my knowledge of where mama was. I did get him to tempt Esta with the reward if she revealed who’d brought mama wolf there, but she declined, and we departed.
Since Dante was driving the pickup, and I followed in my Escape with Lexie, I didn’t get to ask him anything about his latest ordeal with the sheriff’s investigation. He might already have conveyed some or all of it to Megan, who rode with him. But I simply drove along, my mind humming.
When we got near HotWildlife, I called Dante on my hands-free phone. “Stop here!” I said. “I have a better idea how to find out who wolfnapped our passenger.” And perhaps even get a substantial suspect in Jon Doe’s murder as well, in the event I was correct and Gibson Callaway’s hint had a broader scope than who had absconded with mama wolf.
Dante definitely obeyed, pulling into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store and parking. We exited our vehicles, and he aimed a perfectly luscious, sexy smile in my direction and said, “I can see those wheels turning in your head. I don’t suppose your idea would be broad enough to encompass catching a murderer, too, would it?”
“I wouldn’t be entirely surprised,” I said with a smile of my own.
FORTUNATELY, MEGAN WAS on board with my odd
idea. That was a good thing, since it involved closing down HotWildlife the next day—Saturday, a busy day for visitors—and telling all the staff to stay home till called. We’d accompany her back to the sanctuary a little later to assist her with the calls. We would give everyone the excuse that the sheriff’s investigators were going to be around in the morning, and we’d let people know when things were back to normal and they could report in.
I drove to Dante’s to leave Lexie and my car in charge of the household help he had called in for the occasion.
Then, since we hadn’t wanted to have mama wolf restrained overnight in the back of the truck, we contacted Warren Beell without explaining why. I wanted to see his reaction when we pulled up at his mini rescue facility with the wolf he purported to have saved. We ascertained he was home and not at the car dealership where he worked.
First, though, we took mama wolf to the closest all-hours emergency veterinary clinic to check her health and ensure she wouldn’t bring some contagious sickness back to her babies. She came out with a clean bill of health—and a hefty bill for Dante to pay.
We pulled onto Warren Beell’s residential street, with the Angeles National Forest forming an appealing background, about an hour later. Dante parked in the driveway, and we all got out. I was the one to go up to his door.
I didn’t need to ring the bell. He was waiting for us, and opened the door. “What’s going on, Kendra?” the stocky guy demanded, once again his belligerent self. His uniform at home appeared to be casual unchic, ratty jeans and an even rattier T-shirt.
“We need to board a friend with you for a few hours,” I said. Our plan was to bring mama wolf back to the sanctuary in the wee hours of the morning, once all the usual staff had departed.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“Come here and see.” I beckoned him to follow me to the enclosed bed of the pickup truck. Dante waited there, standing beside the window. I led Warren to the window, too, and watched him while he looked inside. His reaction, whatever it might be, could tell me whether he did steal mama back and drop her at the Amazing Animal Farm for a while.
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