Never Sorry Read online

  "Stop there," Maura instructed, checking to see if the lasagna was done. "Are you saying Tanner with involved with Carmen?"

  Leigh ground her teeth. "Evidently."

  "And when did you find this out?"

  "Last night," Leigh answered, wishing Maura would show some mercy. "But I suspected all along." I just couldn't face it.

  "Well, that explains it!" Maura said happily, pulling out the plate of lasagna and diving into it on the way to the table.

  "Explains what?" Leigh asked irritably.

  "Why Frank didn't believe your story."

  Leigh sat up enough to glare at her friend. Maura had the most annoying habit of talking in teasers—she really should be in advertising. "Explanation, please?"

  Maura downed a few hearty mouthfuls of lasagna before answering. She wasn't trying to be dramatic, she just had uncanny timing. "You're right," she said, pointing at the lasagna with her fork. "Primo." Then, before Leigh could explode, she began explaining.

  "Your story isn't that far out. Most anyone who found a body under those conditions would freak. Picking up the knife was a stretch, but it was understandable. And yet from the very beginning, Frank suspected you."

  "Frank doesn't like me."

  "Probably not. But only because he's a misogynist and you like to bait him."

  "I do not—"

  Maura waved away the protest. "The point is, Frank is a good detective. He knows how to keep his personal feelings out of his work, or so I hear."

  As Maura paused for another large mouthful of lasagna, Leigh sat quietly and glared. She was in no mood to hear praise for Detective Gerald Frank.

  Maura went on. "I can see now what must have happened in your interrogation. You were telegraphing guilt all over the place."

  Leigh's brow furrowed. "I was what?"

  "You felt guilty. Not about having killed Carmen, but about your feelings for Tanner. You suspected he was involved with Carmen and you were afraid if the police knew how you felt about him, they'd think you killed her out of jealousy."

  "That's ridiculous."

  "Sure it is. Aren't most people's subconscious thoughts? Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe you felt guilty about Tanner regardless of Carmen. Maybe the sixteen-year-old in you still considered him a married man."

  Leigh had had enough ten-cent psychology. She rose and went to the refrigerator for a drink. It was empty. She sat back down.

  "Look, Koslow," Maura continued. "I'm not trying to get you upset. I'm just trying to explain what might have happened in the interrogation room. If you felt guilty, for whatever reason, Frank would sense that. Maybe you hesitated before answering, maybe you fidgeted—whatever. But it explains a lot."

  Leigh sighed and turned away. It was true, she did feel guilty. About everything. She hadn't done anything wrong, but she still felt guilty. It was a curse.

  "So what do we do now? Go back and tell Frank he misread my body language? I'm sure he's open to that."

  Maura grinned. "Probably not. Let's concentrate on the real killer. Who do you think did it?"

  The question caught Leigh off guard. She didn't know, and even though it was her ticket to salvation, a part of her didn't want to know. "Tanner thinks it was a professional hit," she offered, explaining.

  Maura seemed skeptical. "It's a bit too labor intensive to fit that profile," she said thoughtfully. "Besides, there's the matter of the bone saw being taken from the hospital. And the fact that this person managed to wander around the zoo without being seen, or at least without raising suspicion. I think it was an inside job."

  Leigh could see the logic, but it led her down a path she didn't want to take. She knew—or at least had met briefly—almost everyone at the zoo. She preferred not to have any of them be a murderer.

  "Do you know if Carmen had any enemies at the zoo?" Maura asked.

  Leigh scoffed. "A lot of people hated her, but for different reasons, I think."

  'You'll need to figure out those reasons, then. Your lawyer should have copies of their statements, but likely as not, what's written down won't tell the whole story. When's your next meeting?"

  "Tomorrow morning," Leigh answered regretfully. She would like to spend one day thinking about something else, but it wasn't meant to be. She had already called off from Hook for the next few days—one could hardly fend off murder charges one minute and write pizza slogans the next.

  "I told your lawyer I'd be happy to do some investigating for you," Maura offered. "But don't advertise the fact. It could be viewed as a conflict of interest, even though I'm not on the city force. Ms. Bower wouldn't even consider it if Warren hadn't put in a good word for me."

  Leigh smiled. It was nice to have your friends pulling for you behind your back. Carmen didn't have any friends, or so Lisa Moran had said. The closest thing she'd had was Kristin. Kristin with the Eldorado.

  "Maura," Leigh began thoughtfully, "I'm not sure why, but the trooper asked both Tanner and me if we knew anyone who drove a tan Eldorado. Tanner said a keeper named Kristin Yates did—but a few weeks ago she left to take a job at the zoo in D.C. Kristin was supposed to be Carmen's closest friend, but another keeper told me they had a falling out over a man." A man. And she had credited Carmen with some mysterious love interest. Mysterious, ha! Ten bucks said it was Tanner.

  "I don't know what the car had to do with Stacey's murder," Leigh continued, "but Kristin's worth checking into, don't you think?"

  Maura nodded.

  Chapter 14

  Instead of reporting to work Monday morning, Leigh reported to her lawyer's office. She hoped the change would not become a habit. Katharine seemed unusually chipper, and Leigh wondered idly where Warren had been last evening. She had a hard time concentrating on Katharine's tedious summary of recent events, though she did gather that false prosecution in Butler County was unlikely. Katharine's enthusiasm for Leigh's case seemed boundless. "Your alibi is feeble," the lawyer said happily. "But there are plenty of weaknesses in the prosecution's case, as I said, and the murder of Stacey Tanner has provided several new options for our defense theory—your friend the cop is certainly proving helpful, there."

  Leigh shivered a little at the memory of last evening's conversation with Maura. Someone on the cabin road (perhaps the Rottweiler grandmother) had seen a car speeding away from the direction of the cabin long before Leigh—and presumably even Tanner—had arrived. If the car was in fact a tan Eldorado, Kristin Yates might no longer be safely in D.C.

  Horse-faced Kristin. No female had inspired such fear in Leigh before or since that fated day in eighth-grade biology. Leigh hadn't meant to splash formaldehyde on Kristin's new Calvin Kleins, even if she was pretty sure—given Kristin's economic situation—that the jeans were hot. Kristin had threatened bodily injury, even going so far as to announce a time and place. But nuisances like Leigh were a low priority for the likes of Kristin Yates, and the threat had soon been forgotten.

  Just to be on the safe side, however, Leigh had stayed out of Kristin's way for the next four and a half years—until graduation—and it was a policy she had every intention of continuing now.

  "We'll need some serious investigative work done on this Kristin Yates," Katharine said pleasantly, "and on Dena Johnson too, of course."

  Dena Johnson. The name switched Leigh's mind instantly from fear to anger, but it took a moment for her to figure out why. Of course! The Dena of "I saw Leigh Koslow in the tiger run just before the murder" fame. So much had happened since yesterday morning, she'd almost forgotten her mysterious accuser. "The enemy I didn't know I had. How flattering," Leigh said morosely. "Why would she lie?"

  "People have different reasons," Katharine said with a light-hearted shrug. "You can't assume she's the killer. She may be protecting someone else, or she may have even made an honest mistake. Sometimes people tell police what they think they want to hear. Do you know if she was an enemy of Carmen's?"

  "I can't even remember what she looks like!" Leigh said with f
rustration. "Tanner introduced me to so many people at that stupid cookout, and I'm terrible with faces. Whoever she is, I bet she didn't get a very good look at me, either. It was dark most of the time. And I'm pretty sure I didn't meet anyone named Dena earlier in the week."

  Katharine typed away. "The darkness angle is good. But remember, you were the new girl, the belle of the ball, if you will. It would be normal for her to pay more attention to you than vice versa."

  Leigh got that sick feeling in her stomach again. The belle of the ball, indeed. More like Tanner's latest plaything. Come on everybody, let's see how gullible this one is!

  "We'll need to get the other zookeepers talking if we're going to get anywhere," Katharine instructed. "But you've got to be very careful what you say to them yourself. If they feel the least bit threatened by you and your questions, they could complain to the authorities and get your bail revoked."

  "But I work there!" Leigh insisted, though she wasn't sure if she still did. Her boss was in jail. What would she be able to do, anyway? "I'm sure I can still talk to Lisa Moran—and maybe a few others. I've already talked to them since I became a suspect, and it didn't scare them then."

  Katharine looked at her skeptically. "It's your cell. If you think you can get good information out of someone without intimidating them, it might be worth a try. But the decision is yours. Don't say I didn't warn you."

  "But if I don't talk to them, who will?"

  "I will, your friend Maura might, or another private investigator."

  Leigh shook her head. "Lisa Moran knows more than she's saying, but I don't think she'd tell you or a six-foot policewoman she's never met. She'll talk to me, though. I think she feels sorry for me."

  Katharine repeated her previous warnings, then launched into a long list of motions to be prepared and information to be requested. Leigh appreciated the lawyer's efforts to keep her informed, but boring was boring, and legal jargon was well down in the excruciating range. She squirmed in her seat and wondered how much she was being charged by the word.

  "That's all for now," Katharine said finally. "I'll keep you informed, and you'll do likewise. Oh, and one other thing—could you give this to Warren when you see him?"

  Leigh accepted a small cardboard box, closed loosely with clear tape. She waited for an explanation, but none came. "Sure," she answered. "No problem." She tucked the package under her arm and carried it out to her car. A package for Warren, eh? She wondered, jaw muscles idly clenching, if he had left something at Katharine's place last night. She threw the package in the car's back seat and took off. Warren Harmon could buy another damn toothbrush. She had work to do.

  ***

  She approached the zoo's gates that afternoon in a sweatshirt and jeans, covering most of her face with a visor. Paying to get in rankled, but it was worth five bucks to escape the scrutiny of the security guards. In her uniform she'd be recognized, and she wasn't sure what the result would be. It seemed unlikely that she still had a job, and she had no intention of being "escorted" out again.

  She passed through the gates without incident, and headed up the hill toward Asian Country, where Lisa Moran had last been "floating." She had just managed to steel herself for another tiger encounter when she spied her prey cleaning up after the camels on hoof-stock row. The zoo was conveniently uncrowded, allowing her to slip unnoticed behind the employee lines.

  She crept through the double wooden gate and emerged beside the dump pile—a massive conglomeration of exotic animal feces—just as Lisa Moran arrived with another wheelbarrow's worth. Lisa didn't recognize her at first, then laughed. "Hey! They let you out, eh? Congratulations." She dumped the wheelbarrow over the ripe pile, jiggling to release the last clinging contents. "So, why are you sneaking around here? Leo out to get you?"

  Clearly, Lisa was not intimidated. Leigh relaxed. "I just wanted to talk to you," she began, following along as Lisa rolled the empty wheelbarrow back toward the camel run. Better just to spit it out. "The other day, were you by any chance trying to warn me about Tanner?"

  Lisa assumed a puzzled expression. "No. If you think Tanner really whacked his ex, you're crazy. Not that it wouldn't be justified, from what I've heard."

  Leigh shook her head. Word traveled fast. "No, I didn't mean warning me he was violent. I mean—warning me about his past. About Carmen."

  Lisa stopped to open the camel's gate and pushed the wheelbarrow through. "If you want to talk—help. There's another rake in the shed."

  Leigh located a rake and scoop shovel and carefully opened and closed the gate behind her. The smallest camel, a pale dromedary, promptly walked over for a sniff, plastering Leigh's shoulder with saliva.

  "Zada!" Lisa chastised. "Leave her alone!" She walked over and gave the camel's large head a shove. "Sorry about that. She and Zealah are bottle babies. They're the worst, you know. The others will leave you alone."

  Leigh surveyed the rest of the camels, hoping that Zealah wasn't one of the larger ones. She stayed close to Lisa, dutifully raking up the tiny balls that littered the ground by the thousands.

  "I don't interfere with people's love lives," Lisa began sanctimoniously. "But Carmen Koslow was kind of a special case. I did try to warn you about her, when you first came, but you didn't pay attention."

  Leigh sighed. She was beginning to accept the fact that where Tanner was concerned, she had been hearing only what she wanted to hear.

  "It's like this. As far as Carmen was concerned, Dr. Mike was hers. As far as he was concerned, he wasn't anybody's. After the divorce, I'm told he openly flirted with just about everybody here, right under Carmen's nose. She acted like she didn't care, but whenever he got serious about somebody, she freaked."

  The image of Carmen "freaking" was not a pleasant one. "Was Carmen the reason for the divorce?"

  "I didn't work here then," Lisa said regretfully. "But I don't really think so. Everybody says Stacey just got tired of him. She was a real social climber, and he wasn't climbing fast enough. I think she wanted him to start his own clinic. You know, pump up Fifi and Fido with wormer and rake in the big bucks."

  Leigh took issue with this definition of private practice, but chose to let it go. "So Carmen was afterwards?"

  "No. Carmen was always. She went after him on day one. I don't think his wife noticed, or cared. At least not until the divorce settlement."

  So much for Stacey being the love of his life, Leigh thought ruefully. She went back to an earlier question. "What do you mean about Carmen freaking? She was never possessive when I knew her. I mean, she used men—she wasn't dependent on them."

  Lisa shook her head. "Tanner was different. She really had a thing for him. God knows why. I mean, he's hot and all, but geez. He'd treat her like dirt and she'd go asking for more. It wasn't—like—a monogamous relationship, on either end. It was weird. Carmen would seem okay with him seeing somebody else, and then she'd go and hang out at the other woman's area and scare the crap out of her. I'd only been here a week before she started stalking me. Smiled and acted nice, but just hung around, watching me. Gave me the creeps."

  A sudden memory chilled Leigh to the bone. Carmen, those first two days of work. So effusive, so nice. So happy to see Leigh again. She had taken her to the Asia section, showed her around, told her all the animal's names. Asked questions about what Leigh was doing. Seemed to care. Leigh had thought Carmen was just trying to be nice to an old schoolmate. But Carmen had kept coming to the hospital, for one reason after another. She always seemed to be around. And Tanner had treated Leigh like a queen. Right under Carmen's nose.

  "She was doing it to you, too, wasn't she?" Lisa asked.

  Leigh tried to erase the glazed expression from her eyes. "Maybe," she answered.

  Lisa laughed. "Sure she was. Right off the bat, too. I did try to warn you. You should appreciate it. Nobody warned me when I got here, they just sat back and watched the show. After Carmen got killed, I figured you didn't have anything to worry about anymore, so why bring it
up? You seemed to be enjoying yourself." She smiled coyly.

  Rarely had Leigh felt like such a complete idiot. So, Tanner had put the moves on Lisa, too. Another time, another "new girl."

  Not feeling so chatty anymore, Leigh hastily finished up her portion of the raking and excused herself. She had one more person to talk to, and then she didn't care if she never set foot in this accursed zoo again.

  Dena Johnson worked in the bird house with Tonya. Leigh knew Tonya only barely and Dena not at all, but she desperately wanted to face her accuser. After all, the mysterious Dena's testimony had probably been the last nail in her case's coffin. She rounded goat mountain and headed for the outside trail, but as she passed the reptile house, a fuzzy red head appeared in her peripheral vision. She looked up to see Art Faigen ducking out of sight behind the building's back corner. What was his problem? He wasn't scared of her, was he?

  Remembering Katharine's warnings about intimidating people, Leigh started to get cold feet. Dena was a wildcard. She had lied once—what would stop her from complaining about harassment and getting Leigh's bail revoked?

  She stopped walking. Confrontation and revenge were nice, but life with your own toilet was better. She did an about-face and headed back down the path, but had only gone a few steps when a sticklike figure called to her from behind the elephant barn. She sucked in her breath. It was Tish Holly. Amazon woman.

  Tish waved her over. "Koslow! Back here!"

  After Leigh's mind waged a short battle between curiosity and irrational fear, her feet carried her to the elephant barn. She crept hesitantly through the open back door and into a storage area, where her hostess was lounging on a bail of hay.