Madigan Amos Zoo Mysteries : Books 1 - 5 (Madigan Amos Zoo Mysteries Boxset)

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Madigan Amos Zoo Mysteries : Books 1 - 5 (Madigan Amos Zoo Mysteries Boxset) Page 56

by Ruby Loren


  It was the pigs that had started the feud. In my early observations, I’d noticed that Percy and Penelope were on the large side. I’d asked Gemma about their size and had suggested that they must have been fed pretty poorly by the past owners of the zoo to look the way they did now.

  She’d agreed.

  “Their diet was awful! When I arrived here, they were skin and bone - just like the cows. I’m still working on the cows but the pigs have done so well. They got their appetites back right away. I’m so proud of them,” she’d told me.

  I’d done my best to hide my shock at this revelation but I had needed to say something.

  “It’s great that they're recovering from what happened but, don't you think they’re a little on the large size now?” I’d said as tactfully as possible.

  “Pigs are meant to be fat,” Gemma had told me, dashing my hopes of having a reasoned discussion.

  I’d understood the mistake she’d made. Despite working at a zoo prior to Pendalay, it was as clear as day to me that she was new to this career. I knew the feeling of exhilaration you got when you made a difference to an animal’s life and I was sure she’d felt that way when Percy and Penelope had started putting on weight. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the experience to know when enough was enough.

  "What sort of diet are you feeding them?” I’d asked, still doing my best to be tactful.

  “I’ve struck a deal with a couple of baking businesses in Pendalay. They have loads of waste products at the end of every day. There’s always bread and cakes and pasties that didn't sell. They give them to me and I feed them to the pigs. They love it!” she’d said with a big grin.

  “Gemma, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s too much for the pigs. A few treats every now and then is fine, but they are overweight and that’s not a healthy diet. They need variety,” I’d told her.

  That was when things had gone pear-shaped. Gemma had immediately changed her ‘pleased to help’ tune and had flatly accused me of knowing nothing about the wellbeing of pigs. Still trying to keep the peace, I’d suggested asking the local vet to come and give his opinion. I was not an expert on pigs, so I'd thought a specialist’s opinion would settle the matter.

  After Gemma had grudgingly accepted, the vet had visited and maintained that I was right. He’d also looked at the care and diet of the other animals under Gemma’s care and found further flaws. I'd hoped that this constructive feedback would mean changes were made. Instead, Gemma had walked out on me and the vet, refusing to listen to any more. Since then, Lucille (another keeper I was friendly with) had told me that Gemma was spreading rumours that I was here to get people fired.

  That was the moment I’d known for sure that Gemma was out to get me. Unfortunately, I still had a job to do and I couldn’t simply avoid the farm animals.

  After the terrible morning meeting, I’d sarcastically thought that the day may as well get worse, and had decided to go and look in on the pigs, cows, goats, and sheep. I'd hoped that Gemma wouldn't be around, but my luck was non-existent today.

  "Come to tell more tales about me?” she greeted me, looking down her nose in an infinitely superior way. This was no great challenge for her as she was six feet tall and willowy, whereas I was five foot nothing and a little lumpy, if truth be told.

  “I just report on the wellbeing of animals and provide suggestions for improvements to habitat, diet, and so on,” I said, wearily. I’d told her all of this before, but it hadn’t yet sunk in.

  I leant over the fence and looked into the pigs’ trough. Two half eaten pasties and some crushed iced gingerbread were in evidence.

  Having already shared my opinion of this practice, I simply made a note on my worksheet.

  “What are you writing? I know you’re trying to get rid of me, but you won’t get your way! I have friends here and they stick up for me,” she warned.

  I shut my eyes, knowing I was about to be dragged back into the fray.

  “I’m not trying to get you fired. I’m just here to submit a review on animal welfare. I suggest improvements and, where possible, I help make steps towards their rehabilitation.” I made my voice softer. “I know you love animals. You clearly care about the pigs. It’s great to hear that they’ve put on weight. However…” I hesitated while I considered how to say the next part. I figured the best way was honesty. “…you’ve gone just a little too far with the treats and I think I know why. In this career, you never stop learning your trade and I think you’re still gaining experience. Sometimes we make mistakes when caring for animals. It happens to everyone. The mistakes are forgivable but the way to make them better is to take on board the feedback that’s given when you know it to be true.”

  Gemma had been told to change by both the vet and me. She just needed to be able to accept that in this instance she’d made a mistake.

  “This is how you learn to be a better zookeeper. We all go through it,” I told her, watching her face for signs that any of this was getting through.

  I finished talking and held my breath.

  “My animals are happy! You're crazy if you can’t see that,” Gemma burst out and I felt my heart deflate.

  “Okay,” I said, hoping that would be an end to the confrontation.

  “What are you writing?” she repeated, trying to see over my shoulder.

  I pinned my arm to my side, covering my notes. “I’m writing exactly what you’ve already heard. The animals’ diets are unhealthy. This is not a personal attack on you but you are at fault for not listening to the advice you’ve been given, and I am going to have to include that in my report. What is done in response to my report is up to the owners of the zoo.” I shrugged at her.

  “You’re a piece of work, aren't you? You’d better watch yourself. You don’t have friends here," she said. And with that ominous little speech, she flounced off.

  “Are you okay?” I turned to see one of the other keepers, Harrison, approach. Harrison had red hair that I didn’t think could be called ginger, as it was so dark. His skin unfortunately reminded me in texture of a bowl of porridge, but I liked him. He looked after all of the zoo’s birds, including the rare breed chickens and ducks. They lived next to the other farmyard animals, which I assumed was why he’d witnessed the little exchange that had gone on.

  I summoned up a smile, which was actually pretty tough given the day I'd had so far. “I’m fine. Thanks, Harrison. I was doing my best to persuade Gemma to make a few changes, but I don’t think my ideas went down very well.” I looked down at the obese pigs, who were busy polishing off the last remnants of their baked goods.

  “I must admit, I did hear,” Harrison said with a sideways smile.

  I sighed and leant over the side of the pigs’ enclosure. “Gemma thinks that because the pigs and other animals look happy, it means that they're doing well.” I bit my lip. “Obviously, it’s not bad that they’re happy, but happy and healthy don’t always go in hand.”

  “Maybe she's fattening them up for Christmas hams,” Harrison said.

  “Careful, or you’ll be on my hit list too,” I told him, but he’d managed to raise a smile from me.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I suppose the answer will be nothing. I’ve been tasked with a job, but if she wants to block me and threaten me, I can’t do anything to help.” I looked across at the small herd of cows and beyond them, the sheep. It was a shame I couldn't work with their keeper to improve their quality of life, but sometimes you had to realise that you couldn't win every battle. I’d done my bit and all I could do was hand the situation over to the higher powers and hope they made what I considered to be the right decision.

  “Don’t be offended, but at first I thought you had somehow scored the cushiest job in the world. You know what consultants are like. They’re paid mega-bucks to come in and say a few obvious things, while everyone licks their feet. I don’t think that anymore,” Harrison hastily added, throwing me a nervous look. “You've got one of the toug
hest jobs going. You’ve basically taken on responsibility for the whole zoo and you’re just one person. People expect you to turn things around. If the animals stay the way they are, it’s all on you." He shook his head. “I can’t imagine the pressure you must be under!”

  “…Thanks,” I said, not meaning it in the slightest.

  Fortunately, he laughed. “Whoops! I sure know how to put my foot in it, don’t I?” His face grew thoughtful. “What she said isn’t true, you know. You do have friends here. I like you.”

  “Thanks, it’s nice to have someone on my side,” I said.

  His face lit up and I realised several seconds too late that my answer had been the wrong one to give in this instance.

  “Would you like to grab dinner with me some night soon?” he asked.

  I shut my eyes for a second, wishing I could go back and revise what I'd just said. “I’m afraid I’ve got a boyfriend," I said, offering him an apologetic smile.

  “Back home, you mean? If he’s not here then it doesn’t matter.”

  I blinked a couple of times, having to listen to what he’d just said twice over in my head. “It does matter, actually. I would never do that to someone I’m with.”

  Harrison shrugged. “I didn’t figure you’d be so choosy. I guess I'll save it for someone a little more grateful,” he said and stalked off.

  I watched his receding figure feeling vaguely horrified. I'd had Harrison pegged as one of the good ones at Pendalay, but calling him a ‘sore loser' didn't quite cover it! I knew it wasn’t nice to be turned down, but his response had been so rude it bordered on vicious.

  I shook my head and did my best to forget about it.

  “Clearly, it's not my day,” I told Percy and Penelope, who snorted their agreement.

  In the end, I decided to retreat to the staffroom in the hopes that I would remain free from any further drama the day may have in store for me. Fortunately, my luck was on the turn. There was no one in the staffroom apart from a cleaner, who was studiously straightening the assortment of animal themed magazines on a side table, stretching the task out for a remarkable length of time. One of them fell to the ground and lay open on a double page spread of a man holding a fox mask up to his face. I picked it up and handed it back to her.

  It crossed my mind to let the Johnsons know that their staff weren’t doing the job they were being paid for, but I just as quickly perished the thought. If I became a tattle tale, I’d be just as bad as Gemma believed me to be.

  Lowell was lying motionless on the sofa when I got in from work that night. After checking his pulse, I realised he was just asleep. I shook my head and wondered when it had got to the stage where I even considered the other possibility. Now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Instead, I enjoyed watching Lowell’s serene sleeping face for a little longer before I gently woke him with a kiss.

  “Mmm, what happened?” He said, rubbing his eyes. I noticed there were dark circles beneath them.

  “When did you get in?” I asked.

  He frowned. "I don’t know. I think it was eleven?”

  My mouth dropped open. “I noticed you weren’t here this morning, but I figured you’d come and gone. You were out all night?!”

  “Yeah, but I think it was worth it. I’ve got a fairly good idea of who’s doing what now.” He winced and rubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m getting too old for all night parties.”

  I shook my head but I was smiling. “I don’t know whether to suggest you sleep again or try to get up, so you’ll sleep tonight.”

  “Are you making food?” he asked, so piteously that I relented on my plan to just fix myself a sandwich.

  “Sure, what would you like?”

  In the end, we popped out to the local supermarket and came back with the makings of a delicious homemade curry. At least, that's what I told myself it was while I heated the various dishes up, using both the oven and the microwave. It was homemade if you personally had to heat things up, right?

  “Hey, did you ever find out about Detective Toyne? Only, whoever you asked might have let him know you were asking. When he caught me at the zoo yesterday, he seemed to know all about what you do for a living,” I said, giving a plastic tub of korma a jolly good stir to make sure the heat was evenly spread.

  Lowell frowned. “To be honest, I completely forgot to ask anyone. What did he say about me?”

  I pulled a face. “I think it was just that he knows you’re a private detective who’s got a reputation for tackling tough cases. Is that knowledge readily available?”

  Lowell shrugged his broad shoulders. “I suppose it is if you read my bio on the agency website, but you’d have to be looking for it to find it, if you follow my meaning.”

  “Perhaps they're doing routine background checks on everyone involved. If I thought there were men like Parson Green tied to a case as messed up as this one, I’d definitely make sure I checked everyone out.”

  “Parson Green?” Lowell enquired, and I realised just how much he’d missed.

  I quickly filled him in on the most recent events, including the way I'd changed my mind about the founder of Illyrism. He was still a very strange man, but I also thought he genuinely loved his wife.

  “Perhaps the detective thought you were worth looking into because you’re someone whose job allows them to move about pretty freely. You’ve travelled over the years and this stalker has apparently been following Zara and Darren for a long time,” I suggested.

  “Well, they won't find anything interesting,” Lowell said.

  I rolled my eyes at him. “I wasn’t expecting them to. That is, unless there’s something you want to tell me?” I teased.

  “Only that I think the naan bread might be burning.”

  I spun to face the oven and swore. “I think it might be toast,” I admitted, once I’d dragged it out.

  Lowell smirked. "That's what happens to bread when it gets too hot.”

  We sat down to eat the edible parts of our curry and for a while the conversation was just like any other couple’s as we shared anecdotes from our days - or in Lowell’s case, night.

  “I think I might have a new case by the way," he announced when we were clearing up the packaging.

  “You’re still working on this one, aren’t you?” I queried.

  “Yes, but I think I’m close. I have a couple of prime suspects. I just need to get video evidence of them stealing and that will be that. The new case is a local one anyway.” He scrunched up his face. “Well, it might be anyway," he said and explained that the job was to look for a runaway. There’d been a sighting in Trevone and the agency had asked if he would check around for the missing boy, William Hartley.

  “What’s his story?” I asked.

  “Apparently he’s just acting like a teenager. He thinks that everything is unfair and that his parents are the worst. He’s decided he can make his own way in the world, so he’s up and left. Unfortunately, you don’t get to make a decision like that when you’re only fifteen.”

  I narrowed my eyes, thoughtfully. “You don’t sound sure about all that.”

  The ghost of a smile crossed Lowell’s lips. “I’m not sure.” He paused from rinsing the plate he’d been washing. “I've worked on runaway cases before. They’re tough. If you’re lucky, you find the kid before they disappear for good, or you’re fortunate enough to be left with a body and some closure." He shook his head. “It always ends the same and it’s never what the kids thought it would be. The ones that I've found in the past, they've been pretty surly, but they know inside that the adventure’s over and the grass isn’t as green as they thought it would be on the other side. But sometimes…” He looked back down at the plate and finished rinsing it. “… sometimes they've got something to be running from. It’s not always the kids who are in the wrong. I know it's their parents who are ultimately paying my wages, but I made a promise to myself that I would never return a victim of child abuse back to the people they ran from. If a kid feels bad enou
gh to have to run to escape, they deserve better than to be dragged back by another adult who doesn’t understand.”

  "How do you figure out which it is?" I asked, curious.

  “Sometimes it's obvious. Other times, they take a while to open up, but I know what to say to persuade them to talk. Once, I was only a street away from a girl’s home before she broke down and told me.” He shuddered. “I’m just glad I can sometimes be the start of a second chance at life.”

  I found I didn’t know what to say in response to what Lowell had just confided. Instead, I settled for a hug.

  He tossed his head back and forth, as if he’d been caught in a daze. “I'd better shake those trees. If Detective Toyne thinks he’s got my measure, I’m going to return the favour tenfold. By this time tomorrow, I'll know the name of his first pet and who his best friend was in primary school.”

  I frowned. “Those sound like the kind of details you need to hack someone’s bank account.”

  Lowell grinned. “You’d be amazed by what you can learn about someone just by looking at their bank account.”

  “Hmm, you’d better not have hacked into mine,” I said.

  He grinned at me and I splashed him with soapy water.

  “Hey! Of course I haven’t hacked into your bank account.”

  “Good,” I said, turning away to put some dishes back into the cupboard.

  “There was no need to. You leave your bank statements lying around the house.”

  “Hey!” I said, again, pretending to punch him.

  “Still love me?” he said with a smile when he caught my fist.

  I felt myself freeze.

  The smile slipped off Lowell’s face and he let my hand go.

  “I’m exhausted. I’d better make those calls and then hit the sack. I’ll know everything by tomorrow.”

  “Lowell…” I started to say, but he’d already walked up the stairs.

  I wasn’t feeling too tired myself, so I flipped open the laptop and scrolled through my emails. It was with a little jolt that I realised I hadn’t looked at my inbox for a couple of days. Where is my head at? I wondered.

 

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