Page 13

The Big Wilderness Zoo was larger than the Council Bluffs Animal Rescue Sanctuary but still fairly small compared to the zoos Faith was used to.

“News article says it was intended to compete with the Henry Doorly Zoo but offer a more immersive experience,” Michael said. “Didn’t get as big as they wanted, but they made enough money to keep operating.”

Faith was driving this time, so Michael was getting background information on the zoo from his phone. “Is it important to know that?” she asked.

“No. I was just trying to see if this zoo had a history of ethics violations too.”

“Anything on that front?”

“Nope. Clean as a whistle.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean our victim is.”

She parked the cruiser in between two other police vehicles. Cuthbert met them at the entrance to the gate. The normally impeccably dressed detective looked disheveled and glum. Faith was pretty sure she looked the same.

“We’ve detained the night watchman. I don’t think he’s the killer, but we have to go through the motions.”

“What makes you think he’s not the killer?” Faith asked.

“You’ll see when you meet him, but he’s not the type. More importantly, we’ve been dusting for prints, and his only show up on the door handle to enter the office.”

“Got it. Who’s the victim?”

“Dr. Elena Vasquez, fifty-five. She was… well, you’d better come see.”

He led the agents to the zoo’s attached animal hospital and rehabilitation center. There were red lights flashing over the entrance to the building and again over an office at the far end of the hall on the first floor.

"Some sort of silent alarm system," Cuthbert explained. "Nightwatchman doesn't know how to turn it off. Says it's never come on before."

Cuthbert led them into the office. A uniform stood next to a corner where a heavyset man in a security guard's uniform sat with his head in his hands. His shoulders shook, and Faith saw tears leaking out underneath his hands. That didn't necessarily prove innocence, but he was definitely shaken by what had happened. Then again, if his prints were nowhere in the room, but there was no evidence of cleaning, that was a pretty good sign.

Turk put his nose to the ground and began sniffing. As at the other two crime scenes, he growled irritably and shook his head, wandering from spot to spot without seeming to notice anything. Michael frowned and glanced at Faith. He pointed at Turk and lifted an eyebrow.

She ignored him and approached the body. “Turk.”

He looked at her, and she pointed at the body of the short, gray-haired woman who lay on the floor in front of a filing cabinet on the opposite wall. He snorted and approached the body but still seemed to have trouble picking up a scent.

She pressed her lips together and crossed her arms. Come on, Turk.

“That one looks painful.”

Michael’s words pulled her out of her funk. She paid closer attention to the body and saw what Michael meant. Dr. Vasquez lay in a pool of her own blood. Small, concave wounds dotted her body as though chunks of flesh had been gouged out by an ice cream scoop.

Bite-sized wounds.

Faith shuddered and said, “So this wasn’t an instant kill like the previous two.”

“Well, to be fair, Alison Chen probably took ten minutes to die,” Cuthbert replied. “But yes, we think Dr. Vasquez was alive for at least thirty minutes. Not that you want to confirm this, but the body’s still warm.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Faith agreed. “The blood pooled here, though, so she wasn’t conscious for long.”

“No. First attack was here.” Cuthbert pointed at a filing cabinet in the corner of the room, about ten feet from the body. Faith saw a spray of blood on the cabinet and a smaller pool on the ground below. “The victim then tried to run, but as you can see from the blood spray on the floor, she had been bitten several times before she overcame her shock and tried to get away. She fell down, and it looks like she tried to defend herself before finally succumbing.”

Faith raised an eyebrow. If she had managed to scratch the killer or even slap him, then there might be DNA on her that they could use. “Defensive wounds?”

Cuthbert reached across the body with one gloved hand and gingerly lifted Dr. Vasquez’s left arm. Faith’s face fell when she saw the three missing fingers. “Got it.”

“Were any animals blamed this time?” Michael asked.

The security guard lifted his head from the corner of the room to answer that. “Gus.”

The agents turned their attention to him. “Who’s Gus?” Faith asked.

“He’s a wolverine. They’re normally very aggressive, but Gus has been handfed his whole life. He’s about as mellow as wolverines get.”

“How mellow do they get?”

He sighed. “He’s cranky, but he’s never done anything more than nip a couple of times. Never anything like that.”

“What’s your name?” Faith asked.

“Trevor.”

“You’re the night watchman?”

Trevor’s lower lip trembled. He lowered his eyes and nodded.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

He took a shaky breath, then squeezed tears from his eyes. “No. I was asleep.”

He dropped his head into his hands again and began crying softly.

Faith and Michael shared a look. Faith squatted down to eye level with the morose guard and said, “Trevor, I understand that this is hard, but I need you to talk to me. Even if you didn’t see anything, you might have information that is critical to helping us solve this case.”

Trevor took another shaky breath and lifted his head. “Okay.”

“So you were sleeping,” Michael said. “When did you wake up?”

He sniffed. “About… I don’t know how long ago. Maybe five minutes before I called the cops.”

Faith looked at Cuthbert, who was standing a few yards behind them, hands folded across his chest. “That would put it about forty minutes ago. So roughly an hour after she was murdered.”

Faith nodded. “What woke you up?”

“Gus. I was at the front desk. He wandered in and nuzzled me to wake me up. I… I usually have beef jerky and potato chips with me. He likes the jerky. Sometimes when I’m here by myself, I’ll sneak to his enclosure and feed him some. Just a little, not enough to irritate his stomach.”

“So you were at the front desk, and you didn’t hear someone walk in?” Michael asked.

Trevor’s lips trembled. He shook his head and released another shaky sob.

“The killer appears to have come in through a rear entrance,” Cuthbert offered. “It doesn’t look like he ever passed the front desk.”

Faith turned back to Trevor. “What did you do after you woke up?”

“Well, I knew something was wrong because I saw the alarms. I got up and checked the office, and…” He glanced at Dr. Vasquez’s body. “Oh man. I’m such an asshole. Oh man.”

“Focus, Trevor,” Faith said. “Beating yourself up over things helps no one. Did you see anyone else? Anyone at all?”

“No. Just her. And Gus.”

“Where is Gus now?”

“I took him back to his enclosure. I should have called the cops first, but I was in shock. I didn’t even think that someone might still have been here, I was just… God, this is crazy.”

“I have to ask,” Michael said. “Is there any chance Gus might have done this?”

Trevor stared at the agents in shock. It seemed he hadn’t thought of that possibility. He cocked his head and replied, “I guess… No. No, because there was no blood on his muzzle. No blood on him anywhere.”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, we figured it wasn’t him. Just had to ask.”

“But who would do this?” Trevor asked. “I mean… you have to really hate someone to do something like this, don’t you?”

Actually, killers who committed these kinds of ritualistic murders rarely hated their victims. They rarely saw their targets as human, only as pieces to whatever macabre puzzle they were trying to solve. It wasn’t important to share that with Trevor, though.

“We’re looking into the motive for all of this,” Faith said.

Cuthbert cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Trevor snapped his eyes to Faith. “Wait? All of this? There’s been more?”

Faith kicked herself for revealing that, but by now, the murders would surely be on the news. Trevor must be one of those people who didn’t follow the news. There was no good reason for Cuthbert to hide the information. If he was upset, she could deal with it later.

“Yes. Two previous victims. That’s all I can share right now.”

Trevor gasped. “God.” His brow furrowed. “But… why not me?”

“Why would someone want to kill you?” Faith asked.

“Well, I don’t know, but I don’t know why someone would want to kill Dr. Vasquez either. She was always nice to me. We only saw each other every now and then when she was working late, but she would always smile and ask how my day was going. Most people don’t do that. I’m just a piece of the furniture to them.”

Faith nodded. “Our killer seems to be focusing on certain aspects of his victims’ past when he chooses them.” She hesitated a moment, then decided to be more specific. “He appears to target victims with allegations of animal rights abuse in the past. Do you know of any such allegations about Dr. Vasquez?”

“Dr. Vasquez?” The thought seemed nearly inconceivable to Trevor. “No. Never. I mean… we didn’t know each other that well, but… no, that seems crazy. She was so nice.”

So are a great many bad people, Faith thought. A touch of guilt followed that thought. She didn’t have any right to judge Dr. Vasquez, and it wasn’t helping her case to assume the worst right now.

“What’s with the cameras?” Michael asked. “Are they not working or something?”

Trevor sighed. “They’re working. They’re just not cameras.”

Michael stared at him a moment, then pointed to the very-obvious camera hanging above the door. “That’s not a camera?”

“I mean… it is, but not really. The camera part doesn’t work, just the motion sensor. It’s attached to the lights, but… no sound either. It’s just that nothing happens here.”

“Well, something did,” Faith said.

Trevor slumped forward. “I know. And it’s my fault.”

Strictly speaking, Trevor was definitely to blame for falling asleep on the job, but it wasn’t right to blame him for the murder. “It’s not your fault that someone killed Dr. Vasquez,” Faith said. “But you can help us find that person.”

Trevor lifted his head again. “Yes. Anything.”

“I need you to make me a list of all of the staff at the zoo. Put the names of the other vets and nurses here on top. Someone might know something about Dr. Vasquez that will help us understand who might want to kill her.”

Trevor brightened. “I’ll do that. I’ll do that right away.”

He jumped up and rushed from the room. The uniform glanced at Detective Cuthbert. Cuthbert shook his head. “He’s not guilty of anything but laziness.” He sighed and shook his head. “Sad thing is the zoo will probably use him as a scapegoat to deflect from the fact that their damned cameras don’t work.”

Faith looked at Turk, who was now carefully sniffing a trash can in the corner of the room. She walked over to the can and frowned when she saw that it was empty. Nothing there but a fresh plastic liner.

“Come on, boy,” she said curtly. “Let’s go get some rest.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to look around a little more?”

“Cuthbert, send us the CSI report and the coroner’s autopsy report when you get it. If you find anything else you think we need to know, send that too.”

“Sure. Will do.”

Faith stormed out of the room and nearly bowled Trevor over on her way out. He pressed a sheaf of papers into her hand. “What’s this?” she asked.

His brow furrowed. “The list. Of zoo staff?”

Heat climbed her cheeks. “Right. Of course. Thank you, Trevor. The police might have a few more questions for you. Go ahead and return to the office.”

She brushed past him and headed for the door. Turk stared up at her with concern, but she couldn’t look at him right now.

“Is everything okay?” Michael asked.

“Fine,” she snapped. She took a breath and added in a softer voice. “I just need some rest, I think. We’ll start on this list bright and early.”

Michael nodded, but his face told Faith that he wasn’t happy with her deflection. He didn’t challenge her on it, though. “Right. Sounds good.”

They headed back to the hotel. Faith tried to pull her mind away from Turk’s smell issue, but she kept coming back to the trash can. There was nothing there at all. And where something might be, he’d smelled nothing.

She hated to admit it, but it was beginning to look like David was right. Maybe Turk’s age was finally beginning to catch up to him.

Turk nudged her, and she looked down into his wide, affectionate brown eyes. The gray on his muzzle stood out sharply next to that brown. She forced a smile and scratched him under his chin. “It’s okay, boy. Mommy’s just tired.” She looked back out of the windshield, and her smile faded. “Everything’s going to be all right.”