Never Sorry: A Leigh Koslow Mystery (31 page)

When the footsteps became too distant to be heard, she uncurled herself and stood up. The staff area here was sparse—a trash bin by the gate, and the tunnel entrance. There was nowhere else to go, except the same way Kristin had gone. Leigh looked over her shoulder and walked slowly toward the tunnel, which was blocked by an iron gate. For a moment she thought it was locked, but was surprised to find only a flip latch. She jerked the gate gently at first, but found it opened with ease, and without a squeak.

Wishing she had somehow managed to hold on to her flashlight, she slipped into the dark tunnel and began groping forward along the damp walls. A thin area of light shown up ahead, and as she neared it she realized it was the opening into the brown bear run. Between the moon and the single security spot mounted on the trail outside, there was just enough light streaming through the thick bars to expose another gate farther down. Both gates were secured with padlocks, of which she was glad. For while the near one led only to the empty outdoor run, the far one led to the indoor cave, and had brown-bear fur poking through its base.

Leigh sucked in her breath again and moved quietly past the sleeping bear. All she needed now was to irritate him. He might make noise and attract attention, or—should he suddenly jump up and growl at her—she would.

She crept along past the bear without incident, and managed to pass the polar bear and grizzly runs in like fashion. Last would be the sun bears, and then—if there was justice in the world—another unlocked tunnel opening. She tried to remember if there were another staff gate at the bottom end of the bear caves, but her memory failed her. All she could remember was the gift shop; if it did have a gate beside it, she had probably never noticed.

The sun bears were also in residence in their cave, lounging idly. At first Leigh thought they were asleep, but as she passed they opened their large brown eyes and stared at her suspiciously. Despite the thick bars, she felt a pang of panic at moving along in the dark tunnel within inches of their giant claws. But the sun bears' interest quickly fizzled, and as she crept slowly along the far wall, their eyes closed again. Leigh looked ahead with hope. One more bend in the tunnel, and she would be free. Kristin would have long since lost track of her, and she could easily sneak behind the gift shop, around the fence line behind the petting zoo, and on to the security shack.

Things were looking up.

She rounded the bend and headed toward the exit, which appeared, like its uphill mate, to have only a flip latch. Light filtered in from the security spotlight over the gift shop, and Leigh could see that the gate led out to yet another trash bin. She opened it with enthusiasm, but slowed the motion when the gate creaked loudly. Easing out as best she could without moving the gate any more, she finally found herself in the open air.

She took a deep breath and shook out her arms. Her back ached from tensing, but relief was in sight. She started around the back of the gift shop, stopping cold as the soft voice reached her ears.

"Hello, Leigh."

Chapter 23

Leigh froze in her tracks, not daring to turn around. The signals she was getting from her brain didn't make sense, and it annoyed her. She couldn't have heard the voice she just heard.

Or could she?

The wheels in her head spun, and she swallowed hard. Yes, of course it was possible. It was, in fact, quite probable. And she should have guessed it before.

She took a deep breath and turned around, determined to face her pursuer without showing fear. How good a job she did, she couldn't know.

"Hello, Carmen."

***

"These are their cars all right," Frank barked to the uniformed team as he shone a flashlight first in Leigh's Cavalier, then in the tan Eldorado parked behind it. "Why the hell aren't they at one of the gates?"

"Detective!" Maura called from the nearby fence line. "I think they went in here." She shone her flashlight over the maple tree to give him the gist, then headed back to the Escort, which was only a few yards away. She could pass a physical when she had to, but with her bulk, gymnastics were out of the question. She drove the car up under the tree, stepped onto the hood, and hoisted herself onto the lowest limb.

The uniformed officers followed, with Frank bringing up the rear. "Zoo security's been alerted," he announced when all four had swung down inside the fence. "Keep your eyes open. The perp may or may not be armed, but she's a psychopath, so watch your backs. Look for a female, five-seven or five-eight, slender build, with long black hair. And whatever the hell you do, don't get her mixed up with Leigh Koslow. She's five-six, medium build, with shoulder-length brown hair."

The officers received the rest of their orders and started off, while Maura scoured the area around the payphone with her flashlight. "No blood," she reported tonelessly. "No signs of a struggle. Just broken glass—and a rock."

Frank exhaled. "Let's start looking, then."

Maura nodded, and they set off.

***

"I guess you weren't expecting me, huh?"

Carmen Koslow leaned casually against the sloping wall by the tunnel exit, twisting her hair idly between her fingers. Only it wasn't the long, raven hair she'd been so proud of. It was chopped off unevenly just above her shoulders, and appeared in the dim light to be a bizarre, burnt-orange color.

"I know—it looks like crap," she said, following Leigh's eyes. "'Cinnamon Silk,' my ass. I'm going to get the company that sells this junk, I swear to God I am. But the cut isn't bad, I mean, I had to do it myself. That's pretty hard. You ever tried it?"

Leigh stood as calmly as she could, watching. Carmen sounded just like she always had—chatty and friendly. It was as if they were doing lunch, not playing cat and mouse in a dark zoo.

"I'm glad you came," Carmen continued amiably. "I need you to do me a favor. I've got to get to D.C., and I don't want the fuzz hassling me. Okay?"

Leigh studied the perfectly friendly sociopath in front of her, and tried hard not to be lulled into a false sense of security. As far as she could tell, Carmen had no weapon—there wasn't anything in her hands, and there didn't appear to be anything on the ground beside her. But the spotlight above the gift shop cast a shadow over her left side, and Leigh couldn't be sure there was nothing in the pockets of her bulky jacket. So she stood still.

"I was hoping you'd just commit suicide or something," Carmen suggested matter-of-factly. "After all, you're facing a pretty hefty prison sentence. That would be great for everybody, because then Mike could get off."

Leigh had a response in mind, but stopped the words before they came out. She had to be careful what she said. There was a chance she might talk herself out of this—or at least get far enough away from Carmen to make a run for it. "Mike loves you," she said softly. It came off the top of her head, but she was running with it.

Carmen scoffed. "Like hell he does. He never loved anybody but the wench. But he and I are good together. I'm going to come back and see him now and then, and I don't want him in jail."

"Have you talked to him?" Leigh asked, not entirely sure where she was going with the question.

"Nah. I thought I'd wait till I got this fixed up," Carmen answered, gesturing toward her hair. "It makes me so damn mad—I should have just got a wig."

Leigh closed her eyes for a second to orient her thoughts. Carmen was being her old self—obsessing about her appearance, letting Leigh in on all her shallow little concerns. But this wasn't the same harmless Carmen who had made homeroom so interesting over a decade ago. This was the Carmen who had killed her own best friend, cut her body into pieces, and stolen her identity. Probably just to get out of debt.

"You think I look like her?" Carmen asked.

Leigh didn't need to ask who "her" was. "No," she answered carefully, "You're much prettier."

"Yeah, I know," Carmen said dryly. "Mike loves me, not Kristin. He never loved her. I'm glad she didn't get the chance to tell him."

Leigh didn't bother pointing out the inconsistencies in Carmen's claims. She had learned early on that doing so was pointless. Sociopaths never saw inconsistencies. "Tell him what?" Leigh prompted. She thought—just for a moment—that she had heard something beyond the fence.

"About her being knocked up," Carmen answered, rolling her eyes. "What do you think?"

Leigh said nothing. There was no more noise. Perhaps it was her imagination. She preferred to think it was zoo security. Pretending to be surprised, she spoke as loud as she dared. "Kristin was
pregnant
?"

Carmen looked at her as if she had a screw loose. "She said she was. It ticked me off, actually. Mike wanted babies, but the wench wouldn't have any. I told him I would, but—well, anyway."

An image of the teenaged Carmen flashed back into Leigh's mind. The long absence sophomore year. Carmen had come to school looking pale and thin, and told everyone she'd had mono. Junior year, she told Leigh she'd really had an abortion, got infected, and was really messed up inside. That's why she didn't have to worry about birth control. Leigh hadn't believed a word of it at the time. But in retrospect, it made a sick kind of sense. If Kristin not only slept with Tanner but was going to give him the one thing Carmen couldn't—it would have made Carmen furious. Really furious.

"This has been fun, Leigh," Carmen began, standing, "but we've got to get going." She dusted off the seat of her jeans and straightened her jacket. She still appeared to have no weapon.

Leigh remained still, and took another deep breath.
We
?

They both jerked as the full contingent of zoo lights switched on, illuminating the paths like a stadium. "What the hell—" Carmen began, wheeling around.

It was all the head start Leigh needed. She sprinted for the staff gate, which was the quickest way to whomever was out there.

"Leigh, no!" Carmen called, using the same harried tone a mother might to keep a child from mischief.

Leigh landed against the door with a bounce and pulled up on the latch with one motion. It didn't move.

"You're going to hurt your shoulder," Carmen chastised. "Now stop that. Just come here, and this will all be over with real quick."

Whirling around, Leigh watched in horror as Carmen reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a clear plastic baggie containing what looked like a wet paper towel. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to come. God knows why—you've got nothing ahead of you here but prison. But you always were stubborn."

"You haven't told me where we're going," Leigh croaked, still trying hard to sound casual. "Maybe I will go."

Carmen tilted her head and smiled. "Never con a con, Leigh. You're dealing with one of the best. I always wanted to fake my own death, and it's been a blast. But I don't need the cops chasing after me thinking I'm Kristin. I could be arrested for my own murder—pretty wild, huh?"

Heavy footsteps pounded on the pavement outside the gate, and Leigh screamed. It was a loud scream, but a short one, as Carmen darted forward, whirled Leigh around,  and pressed the paper towel over her nose and mouth.

Ether
.

Knowing better than to inhale, or even try to pull off the cloth, Leigh opted for a quick elbow jab to the ribs, and was rewarded. Carmen shrieked, and the gate burst open to reveal a uniformed city cop. Seeing Carmen doubled over, he trained his gun promptly on Leigh.

"Not me, you idiot!" she yelled. "
She's
the murderer!"

"How dare you!" Carmen bleated, not missing a beat. "How dare you say that after what you did!  You've killed two people, and one was supposed to be your friend!"

Leigh's jaw dropped open. The young officer stood helplessly, his gun wavering between the two. "On your knees!  Both of you!"

But it was not to be. As Leigh complied, Carmen darted behind her. A strong arm encircled Leigh's neck, and a cool piece of steel lay flat against her throat.

A pocketknife.
Damn.

"Take it easy," the officer cajoled. "Nobody needs to get hurt here."

"Nobody would have if you'd stayed out of it," Carmen chastised. "Now, here's what's going to happen. Leigh and I are going back into the tunnel, and you're not. Got it?"

Beads of sweat erupted on the young officer's forehead. Leigh could tell he was waiting anxiously for backup, as was she. They soon heard shouts, and the young officer answered them with relief. But Carmen wasn't waiting for more company. She dragged Leigh back into the tunnel, being none too careful with the knife blade on the way.

Leigh walked backward with Carmen as best she could, wincing as the knife blade grated against her skin. It didn't appear to be all that sharp—but she wasn't taking any chances. If she struggled, Carmen could easily take out an artery.

They were inside the tunnel again, and after moving beyond the first curve, they were out of sight of the officer—and his presumed backup. "Now see what you did, Leigh," Carmen said, just a hint of frustration entering her voice. "I can't drag you all the way through this tunnel. You're going to have to walk. So go on ahead of me. I have a gun too, you know."