A Game of Murder (13 page)

“More cats?” Luke asked.

“There are more cats,” John agreed. He led the way down the far path, which took them past the jaguars and a pride of lions. Luke was fascinated by the lion family. Shombay, the adult male, rode herd on the almost-grown cubs while Kaya, the lioness, licked at something between her paws.

Faith was surprised at how much fun she was having. A day at the zoo with her family. Well, not her family yet, but it might be in the future. Odd how comfortable she felt here, as contrasted with the jitters she’d experienced at the tire house. Something about the three of them together felt right.

They strolled by the giraffes which, as usual, were nibbling the leaves off the trees inside their enclosure. Making their way past the camel and the rhino, they finally got to the elephants at the far end of the zoo.

Luke squealed. “Elephants!”

The elephant enclosure was huge, covering five acres, with trees for shade, rocks and logs for climbing over and onto, and a water feature for bathing and cooling down. Nandi, the newest arrival, took delight in harassing her older brothers. Like all toddlers, she was still a bit clumsy, but full of the same joy as a human child. Like Luke, Faith thought affectionately.

As they stood watching the animals at play, Faith thought she recognized three people standing not too far away. If nothing else, the fact that one of them dressed all in black, despite the warmth of the October day, would have caught her attention. She looked closer and, yes, Derek Bourne was leaning on the wall watching the elephants. Paul and Ashley stood beside him. At first she wondered what they were doing here, but then thought why not? She supposed even geeks went to the zoo.

Ashley seemed to be enjoying herself as much as Luke was. She laughed exuberantly, tossing her head back so her white-blonde hair bounced in gossamer sheets around her face. Her laughter was contagious, at least to Paul. The normally saturnine, if not outright grumpy, man laughed along with her, pointing out the antics of Nandi and pantomiming his own version of the baby elephant by bending over and resting his chin in the crook of his arm, forearm hanging downward. His hand swayed back and forth imitating a trunk.

“Someone you know?” John asked, noticing her preoccupation.

“Oddly, yes,” Faith said. “They’re members of the gamer group.”

“Oh.” John furrowed his brow in a frown.

“Why don’t I introduce you?”

John flicked a glance at Luke, and Faith read his mind. These were the people he wanted her to stay away from, largely because of his fear for the safety of his son. She pressed her case. “Maybe if you meet them, you’ll discover they’re not as dangerous as you think they are. Besides, what could happen on a bright, sunshiny day at the zoo?”

He didn’t look convinced, but said, “Uh, sure.”

She turned to Luke and reached for his hand. “Let’s walk a little bit farther.”

John fell in line slightly behind her and Luke. Faith understood why when he needed to shepherd the boy to keep Luke from darting off in random directions. Faith stopped a couple of steps from the gamers.

“Hi, guys,” she said, half-expecting rejection.

“Hi, Faith,” Ashley said. “Nice day for the zoo, isn’t it?”

Paul stopped being an elephant. “Hello.”

Derek, taciturn as always, dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“It really is,” Faith said.

Ashley shifted her eyes to John and Luke.

“This is John.” Faith gestured toward him, deciding at the last minute to omit his title. “And this is his son Luke.”

Luke looked up at the grown-ups and said, “Hi. Do you want to play with me?” He directed the last at Paul, whom Luke must have noticed pretending to be an elephant, and Faith almost choked in her effort to hold back a laugh.

“Nice to meet you.” John held out his hand to shake. Ashley briefly took it in a loose grip. Too briefly for the shake part to occur.

“That’s Ashley,” Faith said. She pointed first at Paul. “I think you met Paul at Mira’s memorial, and the man in black is Derek.”

John withdrew his hand as neither Paul nor Derek made a move to take it. John’s eyes went to Paul’s elaborately tattooed arms. Faith’s eyes followed them. Looking closer than she’d dared to before, what she thought were snakes turned out to be dragons, their wings extending over the muscles of Paul’s forearms, their heads ending a short distance above his fingers. Tiny tongues of flame flickered from the nostrils. As she looked closer, she saw there was more than ink embedded in Paul’s skin. A mass of scar tissue covered both arms and hands, cleverly disguised by the tattoos. Realizing she’d been staring too long, Faith quickly raised her eyes.

Ashley rescued her from her embarrassment. “Did you see the monkeys?”

No monkeys resided at the Reid Park Zoo. Ashley made the same mistake most people did in confusing monkeys and apes. Rather than be pedantic about it, Faith asked, “The gibbons or the macaques?”

Ashley looked confused for a minute. “The ones in the big cage near the entrance.”

“The gibbons. We passed them on our way in, but didn’t stop. We’ll probably do that on our way back,” Faith said.

“I could watch them for hours,” Ashley said. “I think I’d like to go back and see them again.”

“We can’t spend too much more time here,” Paul interjected. “I want to get to the junkyard before it closes.”

Ashley looked disappointed.

Derek snorted. “When are you going to get yourself a real car?”

“I have a real car.” Paul’s tone was defensive. “It just needs a little work now and then. As long as I can get parts cheap from the junkyard and do the work myself, I’ll be keeping it. Besides, Ethel’s a classic.”

Classic or not, thinking back to the trouble he’d had getting the wagon going after the gamer meeting, Faith was inclined to agree with Derek.

“Couldn’t we please take a few minutes to look at the monkeys again?” Ashley asked.

“I want to see the monkeys!” Luke said.

Paul shook his head. “No time.”

Luke was tugging on John’s hand, and Faith thought now might be a good time to extricate themselves from what was turning out to be an awkward conversation. Let Paul and Ashley—and probably Derek—sort out their disagreements on their own. “Well, it was nice seeing you.”

“Are you coming to the next meeting?” Ashley asked.

“Sure,” Faith said. “See you then.” She edged away from the gamers before they could start talking about their favorite subject. And before they could tell John she was entering the competition.

When they were far enough away from the trio to preclude being overheard, John said, “I haven’t changed my opinion.”

Faith drew a breath deep into her lungs, let it out. “I don’t blame you.” Trying to make the encounter appear better than it had been, she added, “But Ashley is nice, don’t you think?”

John raised his eyebrows. He didn’t have to say anything.

John was overcome with regret as he pulled into the driveway of his ex-wife’s house. He hated to give Luke back to her. After a weekend filled with fun and laughter, he knew he was going to miss his son the minute he let go of him. But that’s how the custody arrangement read in their divorce decree, and he had to live up to the conditions.

The sky, overcast and dreary, mirrored his mood. Although officially over, the tail end of monsoon season often stretched into October, bringing a bit more moisture before the dry month of November. Today, however, it didn’t look like it was going to rain. The clouds were a tease, a canopy of gloom hanging over the day.

“C’mon, buddy,” he said as he lifted Luke out of the booster seat and set him on the ground. “Time to go see Mommy.”

Luke nodded his head seriously. John’s chest tightened. No excited reaction at the thought of his mother from Luke. Apparently he was feeling the effects of the overcast day as well. Or maybe it was something else.

Roni didn’t answer his knock. John had expected her to be pacing like a nervous cat in front of the house waiting for him to arrive, but there was no sign of her.

“Roni?” He called her name and knocked a few more times, but there was no response. He tried the door. It was open. He stepped inside, risking her wrath at daring to enter her territory.

The living room stood empty as best he could tell in the dim light behind blinds closed against the non-existent sun. A stale smell assaulted his nostrils. As his eyes adapted to the shadowed interior, the wreckage of what had obviously been a party emerged: plastic glasses half-filled with melted ice cubes and diluted wine, beer cans, and several ash trays overflowing with cigarette butts. And the remains of several joints.

“Roni!” he roared, blood pulsing at his temples. Hanging on to Luke, he charged into the kitchen. It, too, displayed the remains of Roni’s weekend—wine bottles and empty potato chip bags, a knocked-over ice cream container dripping chocolate goo on the floor. His breath came in ragged, angry gasps. Trying to control himself, he led Luke to his bedroom and sat him on the floor with some blocks. “Stay here, buddy, while I go find Mommy.”

Anxious eyes peered up at him, causing an ache in his heart. “Everything will be okay.”

He hoped. His mouth went dry with worry over what he might find. He headed for the master bedroom.

His ex-wife stretched out diagonally across the bed, clothes askew, one arm thrown over her head. Quiet snores issued from her open mouth. At least she was alone. And alive.

As he shook her, her breath caught in a loud snort. “Roni!” he said in an angry whisper.

Her eyes fluttered, and she tried to focus on his face. Then they flew open, the whites filled with angry red veins, as she lurched to a sitting position. “What time is it?”

“It’s after noon,” he said tightly. “I see you enjoyed yourself this weekend.”

She ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “Yeah.” She smiled slyly.

Was she still intoxicated? Or stoned? “Are you sober?”

“Chill out,” came the response. “I’m fine. I just need a minute to wake up.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and put her feet on the floor. Her head hung on her chest. She raised it and said, “You didn’t happen to make any coffee, did you?”

He wanted to slug her in the face, felt his hands tightening into fists, clenched them by his sides. “No. You can make your own coffee. After you clean the kitchen. And the living room. And take a shower and make yourself presentable. Your behavior is totally unacceptable.”

“It was only a little party. I’m allowed to have a party, aren’t I?” Her voice seesawed between a whine and a snarl.

How had he ever found this woman attractive?

“Not this kind,” John said firmly. “You don’t need drugs and alcohol. You can’t use drugs and alcohol as long as you are responsible for Luke.”

“It was only weed. I gave up the hard stuff.” She stood and started rummaging in a dresser drawer.

“Roni, you know you have to stay sober. It doesn’t matter what it is—weed, booze, or heroine. You can’t use any drugs if you want to keep joint custody of Luke.”

Her hands emerged holding some lacy underwear. Her face wore a mask of innocence. Her voice was pleading. “I slipped, Johnny. Everyone slips every once in a while. I promise to do better.”

He took a deep breath. John was about to launch into a tirade against her excuses when a voice came from the doorway.

“Daddy? Mommy?”

“I’ll be right with you, buddy.” He pinned Roni with a steely stare. “I’m going to take Luke out to lunch and then to a park to play. I’ll give you two hours to get yourself cleaned up and the house straightened. I’ll decide whether I’m going to leave Luke with you when we come back.”

For once, Roni was silent, neither snarling nor begging. He turned to Luke.

“How about a hamburger and some french fries?” he asked.

“French fries!” Luke exclaimed eagerly.

John, distracted by what he’d found, fumbled with the buckle as he put Luke back in his car seat. Apparently the week-long rehab hadn’t done Roni any good. It was time to stop fooling himself. Roni was an addict, one who showed no signs of changing her behavior. In anyone’s opinion, an addict had no place caring for a child. It was time to stop thinking about talking to a lawyer. It was time to go see one.

Faith’s encounter with Roni still gnawed at her insides on Monday morning. No matter how many times she told herself to forget it, her feelings of inferiority kept rippling above the surface of her ocean of self-doubt. She did what she always did when faced with a problem involving relationships: she headed to the Prickly Pear to talk to Hope.

She opened the door, stepped through, and came to an emergency stop just inside. The line at the counter must have been a dozen people long, and at least two of the five occupied tables hadn’t been waited on. Faith could tell from the angry gestures and snarls the customers cast in Hope’s direction.

In a sudden change of plan, Faith hurried behind the counter. “Anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“The answer to my prayers,” Hope said, her voice suffused with relief. “If you would grab an order pad and wait on tables, that would be great.”

“What happened to Lorna?” Faith asked after she put her purse on a low shelf behind the counter.

Hope looked up from the espresso machine. “She’s at a meeting at the school with Scott Junior’s teacher. She won’t be in until after ten.”

Faith grabbed an order pad and a pencil and, making a guess at who had been seated first from the level of annoyance on the customer faces, hurried to a table. She slapped on a cheery-Faith smile in hopes of deflecting their ire. “Good morning. What can I get for you?”

“’Bout time you got here,” an elderly man grumbled. “Thought we’d have to go to McDonald’s for an Egg McMuffin.”

“I’m glad you waited.” She gritted her teeth behind her smile. “What would you like?”

She wrote down the orders for the man and his companions—huevos rancheros for two of them, mesquite muffins and prickly pear jelly for another—and practically ran back to the counter area. Tearing the order off her pad, she stuck it under one of the clips of the wheel on the counter, then started pouring coffees.