“Sir, did you know your dog is sick?” I decided to be direct. He could contact Luke if he needed confirmation.
“Excuse me? What are you talking about?” He took a step back, looking like he’d seen a ghost, or worse.
“I don’t have time to explain; I’m going to be late to my job at the Plum Beach Wildlife Park. I work there diagnosing animal problems.” I hoped I sounded half-believable. I wasn’t sure how else to describe what I did without going into a drawn out explanation about my special skills. It was doubtful he’d believe me. If our roles were switched, I wouldn’t.
“Your dog has a definite tone to his bark,” I improvised. “That tone makes me think he might have some sort of a tumor, near his groin.”
“I’m familiar with the park, and Luke Snider. I’ll make sure to check it out. Heard you all had a problem yesterday, something about the lions?”
“Problem solved,” I said, refusing to elaborate. “Thanks for getting Barney looked at. He’ll appreciate it.” I hoped my free diagnosis would earn me the honor of keeping my perfect driving record intact.
“You go on now. Take care of that taillight and slow down. There are too many campers and trailers out here. And watch out for frisky lions.” He winked.
“Thanks!” I called, my voice syrupy with false cheer. “You have a good Monday.”
Eager to forget my brush with the law, I switched on the radio, tuning in the local station. I was just in time for the news.
“At last night’s press conference, Police Chief, Robert Daily, admitted for the first time, a connection between the two male victims. Both men were found in their respective homes, stabbed.”
Groaning, I changed stations. I needed cheerful not dreadful.
“Plum Beach may have its very first serial killer. Police aren’t confirming —”
So much for my sunny morning disposition — getting pulled over, even though the results were positive, and now murder and mayhem so close to home, gave me warning willies. I should have known after yesterday that my good streak wouldn’t last.
It never did.
Chapter 3
When I pulled into my self-proclaimed parking spot, my outlook had improved dramatically. I was looking forward to my schedule.
On Mondays I spent time with the park’s Capybaras, the world’s largest rodents. The new capy babies squealed in delight anytime I approached. I know for certain their cries equal delight, because I can see what they’re thinking. My smiling face to them is all about food and a good behind-the-ear-scratching-session. Not to mention, the jumbo-sized rodents wouldn’t try to maul me like Butch.
I grabbed my bag from the backseat and stretched, taking a moment to soak in some morning rays.
“You’re looking pretty pleased with yourself,” Rhonda scoffed with a sneer, her backside glued to the hood of her older model Jetta. She sucked down smoke as if tar and nicotine were the elixir for eternal life.
Geeze I’d expected her to pick up where she’d left off, but not before I left the parking lot. If I wasn’t careful, she’d deflate my good mood like a pin popping a balloon.
“I thought you were going to quit?” I snapped. According to Hank the Chimpanzee, Rhonda was enemy numero uno. He’d get no argument from me on that revelation.
She’d planted herself in front of Hank’s enclosure and proceeded to have a nice, long chat with herself — about little ole me. Hank, with the promise of a ripe banana, had shown me the one-sided conversation in its entirety. In addition to her raging jealousy, Rhonda pretty much thinks I’m a crazy bitch with the ability to manipulate Luke into obeying my every whim. Don’t I wish! Luke obeying me would be damn convenient.
“Any theories on who’s killing those guys?” Rhonda flicked her cigarette away. “I knew them both.”
So much for not brooding over the stabbings; Rhonda wouldn’t be the only one analyzing the unsolved crimes today.
To my relief, our conversation was cut short by the purring engine of a vintage Corvette. The Wildlife Park wouldn’t open for an hour. This gleaming red car didn’t belong to any local resident. I would have remembered that muscular arm resting in the open window...
“Wow! That’s what I call a real man.” Rhonda stared, her gaze hungry.
“Good morning, ladies.” A deep voice drew my attention away from the pristine paint job.
After a quick glance at our visitor, and a near heart attack, I bolted toward the entrance, hating myself for my ridiculous reaction.