I Kissed a Dog - By Carol van Atta Page 0,22

sank his teeth into Missy’s leg, sucking and pulling blood from the thrashing zebra.

Forcing myself to stay with the scene, I felt a stream of fiery bile flood my mouth as the man-beast raised his head, blood covering his face. He howled a deep guttural cry that caused me to fall back from the zebra, almost collapsing.

Zane did his normal hero-rescue-thing and captured me in his arms, keeping me from hitting the floor.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” he whispered for my ears alone.

“Not a problem,” I stammered, wishing for more oomph behind my words.

“What was it?” Luke helped Zane get me to a stool. “What did you see?”

“Water?” I croaked, still dangerously close to losing my breakfast.

Zane vanished and returned with a fresh water bottle. I let the water soothe my throat.

“Let me check something.” I forced myself to stand and examine Missy’s right rear leg. Sure enough, I located a large bruised patch that resembled a human hickey. I motioned the men over.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Luke said.

I have. Zane thought, glancing at me. I’ll explain later.

“Okay …” I forgot to mind message.

“Okay, what?” Luke looked doubly confused.

“Okay, here’s the deal.” I determined right then I couldn’t tell my boss everything I’d seen. He wouldn’t understand. Shoot! I didn’t understand. I did understand one thing though: Zane didn’t want me sharing all the gruesome details with Luke.

“All I know for certain is some animal attacked Missy.” I paused, choosing my next words with care. “It was gnawing and sucking on her leg. She was so frightened I couldn’t get a clear picture. We should treat her for possible infection and pain.” I nodded at Zane who was already moving toward the large, glass, medicine cabinet.

“Maybe it’s time I hire more than a sit-down security person,” Luke pondered. “With our animals at risk … well, it seems prudent.”

We’d hired Henry, a retired San Francisco beat cop, to spend the nights in the front ticket booth. The booth was a small room with a cot that opened into a single bed. A TV and DVD player were added bonuses. Henry could access the gift shop area, restrooms, coffeemakers, and all the essentials, through a side entrance into the main building.

There were also a number of video cameras placed strategically throughout the park, but not enough to film everything at once.

If Henry suspected a major disturbance, he’d contact local police. Other than a few high school kids looking for trouble, nothing major had ever occurred, until now.

“What are you thinking, a nighttime patrol?” I tried to hide my alarm. With what I now knew about werewolves and their blood-drinking counterparts, the idea of some poor, underpaid soul traipsing around after dark didn’t sit well with me. Add an estranged serial killer to the mix, and you had a big fat recipe for disaster.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Zane mirrored my apprehension. “With our local serial killer and all — “

“I’m open to suggestions.” Luke shrugged. “We’ve got to do something. I’ll try to move a camera closer to the zebras, but what if other animals are being attacked?”

“If you don’t have anything major for us, Zane and I can interview the animals,” I suggested. Who better to talk with than the actual witnesses?

Pleased with my idea, Luke returned to his normal duties.

“Well?” I turned to Zane who was giving poor Missy a shot of antibiotic mixed with a pain medication.

“Working here,” he grunted.

“Meet me on the bench when you finish,” I commanded, before stomping away, maddened by his nonchalant attitude.

At last, I was sipping a sugar-filled cup of coffee. I almost never took my fifteen minute breaks, but today was an exception. Between Zane’s conflicting attitudes and the zebra’s nightmarish experience, my Tuesday was becoming as bizarre as my Monday; and it wasn’t even noon yet.

To make matters worse, Rhonda sauntered over. “I suppose you’ve heard.” She tilted her head and puckered her silicon-stuffed lips, feigning sadness. I could tell she was itching to spill the latest gossip or something worse.

“What now?” Fear clutched my heart like a vice as I envisioned another victim torn to shreds.

“You don’t have to bite my head off,” she snapped. “Some woman called for Zane. She said she was his fiancée. He doesn’t seem like the marrying type. I’d gotten the feeling he was interested in me.”

“You’re telling me this because?” I tried to hide my annoyance. Jazmine, of course, came to mind. She’d referred to Zane as her potential mate.

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