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  Leigh took one look at the welcome in his sparkling blue eyes and wanted to launch herself into his arms. But she didn't.

  Tanner clapped his hands together with energy. "Well, shall we get going? Ollie's so nasty they can smell him in Cleveland."

  Leigh picked up her share of the supplies, and they headed toward the ape house. When it was built in the early sixties, the ape house was state-of-the-art; but now that outdoor gorilla runs and rain forest motifs were commonplace, the rather plain concrete-and-glass exhibit had become passé. A new exhibit was already in the works, but would take several years to complete.

  Tanner led Leigh to a locked back door, and knocked. In a few seconds, a greasy-haired, obese man in his thirties swung open the heavy metal door. He motioned for them to come in, then retreated. They filed through the door and into a dark, foul-smelling room with two chairs, a desk, and a small black-and-white television set. Charlie Maxwell, the keeper who had led them in, settled back into one of the chairs. In the other sat Detective Frank.

  Leigh's heart stopped for a second, but she willed it to start back up again. She had to quit acting nervous around this man. She hadn't done anything wrong.

  "Detective Frank," she said nobly, extending her hand, "so nice to see you again."

  "Likewise, Miss Koslow," he smiled broadly. He seemed more chipper than he had last night, but still looked as though he needed a blood transfusion. He nodded to the vet. "Dr. Tanner."

  Tanner returned the nod. Frank stood up. "Mr. Maxwell and I were just finishing. I'll be speaking with you two again later, I'm sure." He popped the foreboding notebook back into a pocket, smiled again, and exited through the door they had just come in.

  Leigh felt her blood pressure drop with the swoosh of the closed door. She wasn't the only one relieved. Charlie Maxwell pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped beads of sweat from his brow. "I ain't never been questioned by police before," he said nervously. "This whole thing gives me the heebee jeebees. Cutting her up like that—damn. Some psycho, gotta be. Don't you think?"

  Leigh made a mental note that at least one zoo keeper did think Carmen's murder was the act of a nondiscriminating lunatic. She also realized that she didn't agree. It wasn't hard to imagine Carmen making a mortal enemy, even one with macabre tendencies. The idea of a serial killer being in their midst, however, was too disturbing to contemplate.

  Tanner looked distinctly uncomfortable. "We'd better get started, Charlie," he said evasively.

  The keeper nodded and led them down the narrow corridor that ran behind the exhibits. "I got him by himself in the back. He ain't too happy about it."

  Leigh leaned in close to Tanner as they walked. "Why would Frank be questioning him?" she whispered.

  Tanner looked back at her, and his eyes seemed sad. "He's questioning everybody Carmen worked with. He's been here all morning."

  Leigh found that revelation comforting. Carmen had to have enemies—plenty of them. Frank was merely ferreting them out. That was, after all, the logical way to find the real killer. And she hoped he succeeded—soon.

  The corridor widened out into a small U-shaped room that surrounded a cage made of steel bars. A door with a sliding gate connected the cage with the public part of the exhibit, a ten-by-twelve-foot concrete run with a front wall of glass. Ollie, the two-hundred-pound patriarch of the zoo's orangutan collection, took one look at Tanner and began to snarl and grunt frantically. He retreated to the far corner of the cage, his eyes shooting daggers at the hated vet.

  "That's the trouble with intelligent animals," Tanner said sadly. "They remember you." He loaded the anesthetic into the blow dart and aimed. The orangutan's cries escalated in pitch, and he covered his head with his long arms. "Watch out," Tanner warned Leigh, behind him.

  "Why?" she asked playfully. "I thought you had good aim."

  "I have great aim," he answered proudly. "But Ollie's not half bad either."

  Leigh put herself on alert. Tanner shot the dart with a puff of air, and it landed in the muscle over Ollie's left shoulder. With an ear-piercing screech, the orang pulled out the dart and flung it straight back towards the vet.

  Luckily, Tanner and Leigh had both ducked, and the missile collided harmlessly against the wall behind them, its needle bent from the force of the impact. "Get that, would you?" he asked.

  Within a few minutes, the indignant orangutan lay sleeping peacefully, and Charlie opened the cage door to let them inside. "I got the extension cords ready, Doc," he offered.

  Leigh plugged in two pairs of electric clippers, and she and Tanner went to work. It was a messy business. In the absence of normal wear and tear, Ollie's coat grew unusually long, and personal hygiene was not high on the old ape's priority list. Leigh shaved off huge mats of stiff, fecal-coated orange hair, happy she had remembered her gloves. Tanner watched the ape closely to make sure he was deep enough under, and Leigh worked fast—having no desire to be nearby when a perturbed Ollie started coming out of it.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were almost finished. Charlie swept away the vile piles of hair while Tanner got on ground level to attack a stubborn mat under Ollie's chin. Leigh watched him. Tanner was the kind of guy she'd always wanted—intelligent, sweet, fun-loving, handsome. And for whatever reason, he seemed fond of her. Few men did, and they were always the ones she wasn't interested in. But with Tanner, everything seemed to be going right. It was scary.

  With an evil gleam budding in her eyes, she put her arms under Ollie's armpit and levered the huge, limp arm above Tanner's toiling form. She then lowered it just enough that the orangutan's long, dangling fingers brushed the vet's cheek. Tanner sat up like a shot, eyes wide, and Leigh burst out laughing.

  "You're a sadist, you know that?" he chided good naturedly. He picked up a shock of filthy hair and threw it at her. "Get to work, you!"

  When the job was done and a trimmer, cleaner Ollie was starting to stumble around, Tanner and Leigh headed back toward the hospital. On the way, the vet pulled her off the trail into the wooded area beside the aquarium and led her to a bench. "You're doing a great job, Leigh," he said softly. "Plus, I've really enjoyed your company this week. I'm sorry you had to get mixed up in—" he faltered, evidently not sure what to call the previous night's events.

  "It's not your fault," Leigh interrupted. "I have a way of walking into things. Call it a gift."

  He smiled and draped an arm around her shoulders. "I still feel bad about getting you into all this. Your Dad will have my head."

  The warmth of his arm radiated straight into Leigh's heart, and she wanted to move closer. She wanted to sink into his arms and forget that fourteen years had passed since she had first fallen under his spell. She also wanted to forget that he had ever been married. But reality reared its ugly head, and she held back. Too many things were still bothering her. She didn't want to talk about Carmen, not at this particular moment, when they were finally alone again. But she couldn't stand not knowing.

  She shifted in the seat to face him, dislodging his arm. "You said you had given Carmen a ring. Why?"

  He answered without hesitation, his voice somber. "It was a friendship ring. Carmen was always a friend to me, from the first day I started working here. I know she was—how shall I put it—'morally challenged,' but she had a way about her, you know? She did have a lot of problems, and I tried to help her. She helped me with some of the baggage I was carrying around from the divorce, too."

  He sighed. "A lot of people around here really hated Carmen, but she didn't hate them. She just lived her life. She was—well—different, you know?"

  Leigh studied him, hard. The pain in his voice was sincere, and she believed the words were, too. He was going to miss Carmen, whatever it was she meant to him. But it didn't sound like a romantic entanglement. She leaned back against the bench, and the arm slipped around her shoulders again. It felt nice.

  He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead. "We need to spend some time together away from all
this, don't you think?"

  Leigh nodded and laid her head on his shoulder. Far away sounded good.

  "How about coming up to my cabin this weekend? It's quiet, and the trees are beautiful this time of year. What do you say?"

  Leigh raised her head and started to answer, but never got the chance. A figure on the trail had spotted them, and was advancing rapidly.

  It was Detective Frank.

  Chapter 6

  Leigh briefly considered jumping up out of Tanner's arms, but what would be the point? Besides, as she reminded herself hourly, she hadn't done anything wrong.

  Frank covered the distance to the bench in a few long strides. His complexion had turned from yellow-white to yellow-pink, and he had a ghost of a smile on his face. Nevertheless, the exertion brought on a lengthy coughing fit, and it was a while before he could talk. Leigh and Tanner disentangled themselves and stood.

  "There's a drinking fountain right over there," Tanner said helpfully, pointing.

  Frank waved away the suggestion. "I'm fine," he croaked. "You know these first colds of the season—they're always the worst."

  The detective's overly courteous manner set off Leigh's suspicion-o-meter. Frank was hard to read, but she was getting better at it. He had bad news. At least, it was bad news for them.

  "I'm sorry to inconvenience you again," he began, confirming her fears, "but I'm afraid I'll have to ask both of you to come back down to the bureau for questioning. Forensics has some new information we'd like to clarify with you."

  Leigh looked at Tanner. Since the police couldn't possibly have any forensic evidence that didn't fit her statement, she wondered what they might have that would cause a problem for him. Surely they knew his job took him all over the zoo? His hair or fingerprints could be anywhere.

  Tanner didn't seem concerned. "Sure, no problem," he said agreeably. "I don't have anything else pressing this afternoon." He looked at Frank pointedly. "I want this person caught, you know."

  The detective looked squarely back at him, and nodded. "So do I."

  ***

  Since Tanner's pickup truck had somehow escaped the impound-lot purgatory in which Leigh's Cavalier was still lingering, he drove them both to the station. Leigh was not surprised to find the maximally efficient Attorney Bower waiting for her, patent-leather laptop case in hand.

  "I'm glad you called," Katharine said shortly. "I was expecting this." The lawyer surveyed the booted vet with a fleeting look of disdain. She sniffed the air, then quickly averted her eyes.

  Leigh hid a grin behind her hand. Evidently eau d'orangutan was not to Ms. Bower's tastes. Neither, apparently, were cowboys.

  Within a few minutes, Leigh and her attorney were seated in the interrogation room. Frank's manner was still disturbingly courteous, though when he greeted Katharine, a flash of venom traveled through his dark eyes. "The lab has matched the blood on Miss Koslow's clothing with that of the victim," he began.

  Katharine Bower wasted no time breaking in. "That merely confirms my client's statement," she said tersely. "Is there anything else?"

  "As a matter of fact, there is," Frank said slowly, leaning back in his chair. The gleam in his eyes as he glared at the lawyer made Leigh's stomach flip-flop. She looked back and forth between the two of them, neither of which seemed to care that she was in the room. Clearly there was no love lost between Frank and her lawyer. Fabulous. And how did Ms. Bower get along with the D.A.?

  "Yes?" the lawyer demanded.

  Frank spoke evenly, but Leigh swore he was enjoying himself. "A bone saw was left at the crime scene, and forensics has concluded that it was the same bone saw that was used to dismember the body."

  "And?" Katharine demanded.

  "And—" Frank continued, dragging out each word, "Your client's prints are on it."

  Leigh sat and stared. "Your client"—that would be her. But her prints couldn't possibly be on any bone saw. What bone saw?

  "Was this bone saw part of the zoo hospital's inventory?" Katharine asked without missing a beat.

  Frank held up his hands and shrugged. "Perhaps your client can tell me."

  "We'd like a moment alone," Katharine asked, without even looking at Leigh. Frank nodded in agreement and left, a distinct jaunt to his step.

  Katharine turned to Leigh. "You are employed as a vet tech?"

  Leigh nodded.

  "Is it your responsibility to clean, put away, inventory or otherwise handle the surgical instruments?"

  Leigh nodded again. "Although I don't remember—"

  "You don't have to remember anything," Katharine broke in. She got up and opened the door, waving Frank back in. "Handling the zoo's surgical instruments is one my client's job responsibilities, Detective. I'm sure her prints may be found on any number of items in that inventory. If that's all you have, we'd like to go now. Unless, of course, you want to charge my client with something?"

  Leigh watched Frank's face closely. Although Ms. Bower appeared to have won this round, his countenance was disturbingly smug. "You're free to go," he said charitably.

  With a few admonitions to Leigh about keeping her mouth shut when—not if—the police next made contact, Katharine picked up her briefcase and left. Leigh watched as Tanner headed in for his own turn into the interrogation room, unfettered by any lawyer. "Waste of money," he had told her on the way over. "I just tell the truth."

  She sat miserably in the waiting area, bored and puzzled. When had she handled a bone saw? If the zoo hospital had a large one, which she was certain it must, it would probably be in one of the drawers in the necropsy room. It would probably be kept with the—. She smiled and snapped her fingers. That was it! The bone saw must have been in the same packed drawer as the rongeurs she had been searching for on Tuesday. She had picked up and moved aside virtually everything else in the drawer before finding them. If Frank checked some of the other instruments for prints too…

  She started to get up, but stopped herself. Her lawyer would have a fit. Plus, it really wasn't incumbent on her to do Frank's job for him. Even if he was wasting a lot of time on her and Tanner when he should be looking for the real killer.

  And who might that be? Leigh had no idea who Carmen's current enemies were, but surely Frank did, if he had spent all morning questioning the zoo staff. And what about Tanner? He obviously knew a lot about Carmen.

  Maybe too much.

  She shook her head to rid it of the unproductive thought. Carmen was dead; it wasn't as though they were in competition for Tanner's affections. Yet even as she reasoned with herself she realized that it was principles, rather than jealousy, that was the issue. She didn't think she could respect, much less fall for, any man who would get romantically involved with Carmen Koslow.

  And she was definitely falling, despite the horrors of the last twenty-four hours. It seemed like months ago that she had first walked into the zoo hospital for an interview, but it had really only been two weeks. She hadn't seen Tanner in fourteen years—he could have put on weight and gone bald for all she knew. Yet there he was, handsome as ever, and he appeared just as pleased with time's effect on her.

  She remembered the sparkle in his eyes as he'd looked her up and down. "Leigh! You look great!" he'd said. Most flattery made her suspicious, but from him, it made her feel wonderful. No more of the "nice little boss's daughter" routine—he had treated her like a woman from day one. And on day three of her zoo employment, he'd made his intentions clear.

  Had it only been last night? She hadn't even had a chance yet to enjoy the memory. They had been talking and laughing as they prepared for what should have been a simple procedure—and as she brushed past him to load the x-ray machine, he swung out an arm, pulled her to him, and kissed her. Not an urgent, lust-filled kiss—it was one of the warm, soft, feathery kisses that merely hinted at more to come. There was more to come. And then, as she recalled ruefully, they were interrupted.

  Leigh sat up in her chair in the waiting area, suddenly jerked out of her rever
ie. She had pulled herself out of Tanner's arms that night because she thought she had heard a noise. He had laughed at her and told her it was just one of the Cockatoos, clanging its water dish about. She hadn't thought so, but she wasn't inclined to argue with him. She had thought it was a door shutting.

  She breathed in deeply. If her prints were on the bone saw, the killer must have taken it from the hospital between Tuesday and last night. And they wouldn't need it until after they'd killed Carmen.

  The air in the stuffy waiting area seemed to have developed a chill, and Leigh put her legs up on the chair and hugged her knees. Could the killer have been in the hospital with them last night?

  "Are you okay?" a voice asked tenderly. Leigh looked up to find a concerned Tanner staring down at her. "You look upset."

  She forced a smile. "I'm fine," she said quickly, bouncing up from the seat. "Let's get back to work."

  ***

  The tape in the zoo hospital's answering machine was completely full, and the light blinked frantically. Half a dozen messages were from reporters; three were for Leigh.

  The first one was good news—her car was ready to be picked up at the tow pound. The second—an invitation from her cousin Cara to visit the farm and see the baby—didn't seem urgent, but Leigh knew better. What her mystery-obsessed cousin really wanted was to pump her for information about the murder. The third message made her muscles tense and her head start to ache.

  "Hello, this is Frances Koslow, calling to leave a message for my daughter, Leigh Eleanor Koslow. Please inform Leigh that she is to call home immediately. Thank you very much."

  She sighed. It was inevitable, of course, that her mother would get wind of the tragedy. By now, almost everyone in Pittsburgh must know. Dismemberment in a zoo was, after all, not your typical noon news. The trick would be finding out how much Frances knew without inadvertently adding to the arsenal. Lisa had said that the television reports had not given Leigh's name, and the murder had happened too late to make the morning papers. Perhaps there was hope. If Leigh could get to her mother before she found out who actually found the body, perhaps—