Chapter Six

The next morning, after taking a shower and putting on a freshly pressed zoo uniform, I wandered into the living room to see if any further drama had erupted overnight. All appeared calm. Dylan had slept on our convertible sofa, and bless his heart, had already folded up the bedding into a neat stack and returned the sofa to its usual shape. From the voices that emanated from the kitchen, I realized he was helping Colleen prepare breakfast. Giving a silent thanks to his absent mother for raising him so well, I found Joe, Bridey, and Tonio sitting at the breakfast table, watching the young man as if he were a god recently descended from Olympus.

“Sausages and pancakes, my favorites,” I said, breaking into the awe-fest.

“Mine, too, Stepmom.”

His wide grin revealed perfect teeth.

Stepmom. Not being a formal kind of gal, I suggested he call me “Teddy.” After all, that’s what everyone else, including Tonio and Bridey, called me when they weren’t snickering and calling me “Lettie.”

He gratefully complied, handing me a small stack of pancakes. “Blueberry syrup or maple, Teddy?”

“I’m feeling daring, so let’s go with blueberry.”

A bow. “Excellent choice, m’lady.”

Breakfast progressed without a hitch. In between bites, Dylan gave us a quick account of his childhood. “When I was younger, Mom did a little acting, mainly commercials and stuff, but the only thing I can remember about that time is all her crazy actor friends showing up at our house for parties. You’d think she would wind up with one of them, but she met Jon, who’s in insurance, and they got married when I was around ten.” For a moment he looked wistful. “Things got calmer, but less fun, so not much to tell after that. As soon as I graduated from high school, I took a couple of drama classes at Burbank Community College. I was thinking about transferring over to USC, and I still may. But as soon as I turned eighteen, I sent off my DNA, and well, here I am.”

“Girlfriend?” Joe asked.

“No one in particular.”

Of course not. Given Dylan’s spectacular looks, he probably had dozens of girls vying for the honors. But I wasn’t as interested in his love life as I was in the material he’d edited out of that abbreviated biography. “How did you and your mom wind up in Los Angeles in the first place?” I asked.

“From what I’ve heard, my grandmother…” He shot a look at Colleen, then started again. “My maternal grandmother had a sister, Jeanette, in Glendale, so after she learned about the, ah, accidental, ah, pregnancy, she drove Mom down there to stay with Jeanette for the duration. The original idea was to adopt me out, but after I was born, Mom reneged on the agreement—she’d turned eighteen by then—and refused to give me up. There was a big family breach that’s lasted for years, and in the end, Aunt Jeanette let Mom and me stay there until Mom got enough work to rent her own apartment.”

“Enough work? For actors, that usually takes years,” I pointed out.

He didn’t blink. “Sure. That’s why she signed on with one of those temp agencies, but Mom was beautiful, still is, and she started getting modeling and walk-on parts right away. A few good speaking roles, too, and when they were released on VHS, then DVD, she started getting residuals, and that added up. Somewhere along the way she got her AFTRA card and wound up snagging that series of commercials for the GoForth Insurance Company. Which is how she met Jon Overholdt. He’s the vice president of GoForth.”

Ah, Hollywood. Rags to almost riches, if you were lucky. And apparently, Lauren Ellis had been lucky as well as beautiful.

Throughout the rest of breakfast, I tried to ignore the jealousy chewing at my heart.

Although it was Tuesday, the day KGNN usually aired my live TV show, Anteaters to Zebras, I discovered the feature had been postponed. Instead, the station was running live coverage of the Miss San Sebastian County Beauty Contest (Miss Artichoke Farm seemed to be ahead in points, due to her archery skills). Thus freed, I was able to work a normal shift at the zoo.

While I laid out fresh bamboo shoots for the red panda, Lex Yarnell, one of the Gunn Zoo’s park rangers, rolled up in his leopard-spotted golf cart. Normally a relaxed kind of guy, his handsome face looked tense.

“Did you hear about that big Gordo guy who works the T. rex marionette on that kiddie show?” he asked, after taking a sip from his still-steaming to-go cup. Suddenly his face relaxed into a grin. “Oh, look! Poonya’s doing her ‘Eek’ thing again!”

I turned around to see the red panda standing on her hind legs, her forelegs raised high in the air. “You scared her so she’s trying to look big and dangerous.”

“As if. Talk about a cutie.”

“No argument there. But back to Gordo Walken. Yeah, the authorities picked him up, then let him go. Turned out he was at some sort of a surfer party with a bunch of other people when Flaherty was killed.” The image of seeing six-and-a-half-foot Gordo on a surfboard was a bizarre one, but there were no height restrictions in surfing.

The tension returned to Lex’s face. “Uh, yeah, but when I was having lunch in the employee lounge a few minutes ago, there was a follow-up bulletin on KGNN. Ariel Gonzales, you know, that newscaster who used to be a Marine, was standing in front of the jail announcing that the authorities were looking in a new direction and that an arrest was imminent.”

Finally deciding Lex wasn’t going to kill and eat her, Poonya dropped back down to all fours and began snuffling through the bamboo. Upon finding a stalk of particular interest, she sat back on her rump and began chewing.

“What did Joe have to say?” I asked. “He’s usually good for a quote.”

Lex gave me an odd look. “If I were you, I’d give him a call. In fact, I’m surprised he hasn’t called you already.”

Before I could ask why, my cell phone played the opening measure of “I’m Too Sexy for My Shirt,” my husband’s ringtone.

“Speak of the devil,” I said, pulling the phone out of my pocket.

“I’d better be going,” Lex said easing his cart forward. “Just dropped by to warn you in case…well, just in case.” With that, he took another sip of his coffee, made certain the lid was on tight, then drove away.

“What’s up, hon?” I asked Joe, holding the phone close.

“Heard the news yet?” His voice was solemn.

“Gordo Walken’s suing KGNN for defamation?” I joked.

“Gordo’s too nice a guy to pull a jerk move like that. I’m talking about the real news.”

“Which is?”

He cleared his throat. “I recused myself from the Flaherty investigation and turned the case over to Chief Deputy Emilio Gutierrez.”

What?!” I yelped so loudly, Poonya reared back up on her hind legs. Softening my voice for the red panda’s sake, I said, “Why in the world would you even think of doing such a thing?” Then I remembered the usual reason law officers are usually pulled from a case. “Have you been accused of something?”

In a firmer voice, he answered, “Absolutely not. Look, the Cliff Flaherty case isn’t something I feel comfortable discussing over the phone, so why don’t we meet at the Nairobi Café in a few minutes? I’m already there, sitting at a corner table where it’s nice and quiet.”

As soon as I agreed, he killed the call.

Poonya was still standing in her Eek! position as I drove away in my zebra cart.

The Nairobi Café, an African-themed food stop at the end of Africa Trail, was nearly empty. Joe had sequestered himself in a dark booth furthest from the door, so at first I couldn’t see him well. As I drew closer, the misery on his face alarmed me. The glass of water in front of him was still full, and he hadn’t even obliged himself of the café’s famous Botswana Burger.

“What’s going on?” I asked, sliding into the booth. “And don’t spare my feelings. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“Dylan’s about to be arrested.”

Certain I hadn’t heard him right, I shook my head. “Give that to me again.”

“My biological son, Dylan Ellis, is going to be arrested for the murder of Cliff Flaherty. He was recorded on a 7–11 surveillance camera in a physical altercation with Flaherty the morning of Flaherty’s death. The lip-reader we brought on board says that Dylan was shouting…” Here Joe spoke slowly, as if to a child—“‘I’ll kill you, just see if I don’t. For what you did, you deserve to die.’” He resumed his normal speech pattern. “A witness, a woman getting gas, confirms what the lip-reader said. Along with that, there are, ah, other indications leading the detectives to believe Dylan was involved in the homicide.” He took a few gulps of water, then cleared his throat “That clear enough for you, Teddy?”

I felt sick. “There has to be another explanation.” Then a thought struck me. “Oh, my god. Colleen! You’ve got to call her and tell her…”

“Shhhh!” Joe clenched my hand so hard it hurt. “I can’t interfere. Before I called you, I got a call from Gutierrez. He and the detectives are on their way to execute the arrest warrant. Heck, they’re probably at the house already.”

“But the kids! They’re home today because of that teachers’ conference, and they’ll be…”

“The kids will be fine. You know how warm and fuzzy Gutierrez’s become since he’s a new dad. Bridey’s probably already got a new teddy bear, and Tonio a shiny sheriff’s badge.”

I jerked my hand away. “I can’t believe you’re allowing this!”

His eyes were bleak. “I don’t have the power to stop it, Teddy. Not if I want to continue functioning as the sheriff of San Sebastian County.”

Despite my horror, I knew he was right. Still, it was the first time he’d ever had to hand over control of an investigation to someone else. No. That wasn’t correct. A couple of years earlier, when Joe was attending a refresher course given by Homeland Security in Virginia, Deputy Elvin Dade—now forcibly retired—sat in for him. Dade’s many missteps created an unholy mess, the results of which still reverberated around San Sebastian County. Gutierrez was smarter than Dade, and less ego-driven, but still…

“This is just awful,” I mourned.

Joe looked down at his glass. “Yeah. It is.”

Like Joe, I soon learned I had no power when I drove my cart over to Admin to ask Zorah if I could go home for the day to comfort Colleen and the kids. Just as the zoo director began to answer, Aster Edwina, who was sitting in the guest chair, stopped her cold.

“Personal problems are no excuse for missing work,” the old harridan snapped. “I don’t care what kind of hell has rained down on your family, you’re completing your shift. Zorah was just telling me about three keepers being out sick, which means we’re shorthanded, so you need to stay here and take care of those animals. And by the way, finding secret sons is no emergency, even when they get arrested for murder.”

“How did you know?” I gulped, before I realized that of course she knew. Aster Edwina Gunn, matriarch of the uber-wealthy Gunn family and head of the trust that managed the Gunn Zoo, knew everything that happened in San Sebastian County. I had, however, expected more sympathy. After all, Aster Edwina had once found a daughter she’d thought lost, and therefore should have understood the emotional upheaval my own family was now experiencing. But the ultra rich don’t live by the same rules as the rest of us, do they?

Biting back my disappointment, I continued on my rounds. For once my heart wasn’t in it, and the animals could tell. Magnus, the polar bear cub, wouldn’t come near me, and Lucy, the giant anteater, even took a swipe at me through the security fence with her bandaged paw. But at least her swipe startled me out of my fugue. Since a careless zookeeper could turn into a dead zookeeper, I forced myself to be present in the moment, as that old hippie Ram Dass once counseled. Be here now. Therefore, I finished my shift without disembowelment or losing a limb, and was able to hurry home to confront whatever hell awaited me there.

As I pulled my pickup into the driveway, Bridey ran out the door, hugging a new teddy bear, but with tears streaming down her face. “Mean men took my new brother away!” she howled.

Tonio was right behind her, snarling. “I hate Emilio! He dragged Dylan away in handcuffs!”

Colleen, usually the epitome of calm, was in even worse shape. Despite my earlier phone call assuring her everything would turn out all right, her fiery red hair was in disarray, her blue eyes were bloodshot, and her hands trembled. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t invited him up here, this never would have happened. Teddy, you’ve got to do something!”

“Like what?” I said, aghast. “You know I can’t interfere in a police investigation.”

Her voice, earlier thick with unshed tears, turned fierce. “You’ve done it before, and for less reason. This is my grandson we’re talking about!”

How strange it was that the fate of a young man whose existence we hadn’t even suspected a few days earlier could have such an impact on us all. But this was no time to wax philosophical. At the sound of an approaching motorized growl, I turned around to see a KGNN mobile news van pulling up at the curb.

“Let’s finish this in the house,” I called over my shoulder, as I hustled up our walk, leaving my distraught family to follow.

They did, but as soon as the door closed behind us, the beseeching started again.

“I want my brother back!”

“Me, too!”

“Don’t just stand there, Teddy! You need to find out who’s responsible for that man’s death, and it wasn’t my grandson!”

“I… I…”

“Teddy, pleeeeeeze!” Two young voices, screaming in unison.

To insert myself into a police investigation would be an act of madness, especially since it might set me against Joe, the man I loved so dearly. Only an idiot would act so irresponsibly.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll do it.”