The Only Witness (31 page)

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Authors: Pamela Beason

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: The Only Witness
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He trudged back, sticky seeds glued to his pants and cockleburs digging into his socks. His shirt was drenched in sweat and he had a blackberry scratch that wrapped around the back of his neck. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed the college and asked to be connected with their television station.

He identified himself to the news producer and then told her, "Some hotshot girl reporter is going to come in with a video of a gorilla."

"A
gorilla
?"

"That video was illegally obtained by trespassing on private property. If I see it on the air, I will have you and everyone else at your station arrested."

"A
gorilla
?" the woman asked again.

Finn wiped away a trickle of sweat from his forehead. "What is your name? Did you hear what I just told you? Do I need to talk to the station manager?"

"I'm Heather Anderson. No, sir, you do not need to talk to the station manager. I'll take care of it, Detective."

He called Grace's cell. It went to voicemail. He'd seen the phone on the table in the trailer; it was probably still sitting there. He left a message telling her that he'd headed off any news coverage. Small consolation, but it was the best he could offer.

He trudged back through the woods, emerging into the clearing between the study trailer and Grace's living quarters. All was quiet. Grace, LaDyne, and the gorillas were nowhere in sight. No sounds came from the woods. Damn. Thousands of acres of Forest Service land surrounded the compound. How far would the gorillas run?

Judge Sobriski rested in the shade, reclining against the hood of the car. Finn put a foot up on the front bumper and gingerly picked cockleburs from his sock.

"I don't know when I've had such an interesting afternoon," Sobriski said. "But I think I'm ready to call it a day. How about you, Detective?"

Finn snorted. "Amen to that." Unfortunately, he needed to return to the station. He switched feet to pick the burrs out of his other sock. The sticky seeds that covered his trouser legs up to his thighs would have to wait until later.

"Let's go back to my chambers and write up that subpoena duces tecum, shall we?"

Thank god.
Finn put his foot back on the ground and grinned at the judge. "Gladly." He pulled the passenger door open for Sobriski.

He couldn't help Grace corral the gorillas, and even though he'd stopped the news broadcast, he had no doubt the girl would spread the word of gorillas loose in Evansburg. But he'd at least be able to go after the Jimson Janitorial records first thing in the morning.

Back at the station, Finn faxed the subpoena to the Spokane Police Department, where tomorrow morning, an officer would deliver it in person to that bitchy HR manager at Jimson Janitorial headquarters. He couldn't wait to see her marching up the steps of the courthouse with the records in hand. Forty-eight hours; that's all she had.

Finally, he was making progress. Now if only the records would lead him to Ivy's kidnapper. And to Ivy. Be nice if they led him to the other two babies' whereabouts, too.

He called Grace's phone again. It kicked into voicemail. He hung up. Damn. Still not back. It was getting dark now. Should he drive back out there to see if she'd recaptured the gorillas? LaDyne was with her; surely they'd be okay. Besides, she was probably more than a little peeved with him right now. She had a right to be. He'd checked his rearview plenty of times. How had he missed a reporter tailing him out to Grace's compound?

He couldn't get Brittany Morgan's hopeless expression out of his head. He called the hospital to check on her.

"She was released this morning into the custody of her parents," the nurse in charge told him.

He thought about going to the Morgan house, but he didn't have anything to tell them. Yet. Maybe in two days, he would have. That was something to look forward to; he really wanted to do something for Brittany. For now, he needed to get home and let his dog out.

Mason strolled up to his desk. "Finn, have—"

"Mason," Finn interrupted, suddenly flashing onto an idea. It was only a little thing, but it was something he could do for the girl. "I want you to release Brittany Morgan's computer back to her."

Mason scowled. "I haven't finished analyzing the hard drive."

"Can't you copy the files?"

"You mean make an image of the hard drive?" Mason said in the scornful tone he used for everyone who didn't speak nerdese.

"I'm pretty sure that's what I mean," Finn replied. "I want to return the computer to Brittany. That girl has been hassled enough."

"It'll take awhile, but I'll put it on your desk later tonight."

"Thanks." Something else to look forward to. Tomorrow, he'd take back Brittany's laptop.

Mason splayed a hand on the top of Finn's desk and leaned toward his monitor. "Seen YouTube lately?" he asked.

"Never," Finn told him. He didn't understand why people wasted their free time watching that drivel. "I'm calling it a day." He started to rise from his chair.

"Wait." Mason stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He pulled Finn's keyboard toward him, stretching the connection cord to its maximum length. "You'll want to see this." Mason typed for a second, and the screen switched focus to YouTube. Then he grabbed Finn's mouse and clicked on a link labeled
Gorilla Ambush
under
Videos Being Watched Now
. The video began to play.

Finn's stomach dropped. He watched Gumu climb out of a pile of blankets and hurtle down the rope net, beating on his chest—pock! pock! pock!—and baring his teeth. A startled voice shrieked, "Omigod, omigod, omigod!"

Gumu hesitated for only a second at the edge of the netting before he leapt toward the photographer. The video showed only the blurry black leather chest of the male gorilla at that point, with the girl's screams as sound track. Then the black blur moved away and from ground level, the camera recorded Gumu galloping past Sobriski and Grace, then Finn, and finally LaDyne. Neema screeched and turned as Gumu went past, dashing out to run after him, jerking LaDyne off his feet and dragging him for a short distance before the leash was torn from his hand.

The screen went black again, and then words appeared:
What do gorillas on the run have to do with the disappearance of Ivy Rose Morgan?
The screen paused on a photo of the baby and the date she'd disappeared, with the attribution
By FirstAmen, Evansburg, WA
. Then it looped back to the beginning and stayed there, on an image of Gumu emerging from his blanket nest.

Finn turned to look at Mason. Now Detectives Melendez and Dawes stood beside the computer tech, as well as a couple of uniforms whose names he couldn't remember. Detective Larson strolled up, late to the party.

Sara Melendez crossed her arms and grinned maliciously. "Got something you want to tell us, Finn?"

"Yeah." He stood up. "My cat is missing, and I'm going home to look for him now." He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and strode quickly from the building.

At first, Grace could hear the gorillas' excited hoots echoing through the forest over her own harsh breathing and yells of "Neema! Gumu! Neema, come!" But the hooting gradually petered out as Neema and Gumu easily outdistanced her and Josh. They must have run close to a mile. Finally, completely out of breath, she held out a hand to signal a stop. They both stood and panted for a long while, Josh leaning against a Douglas fir, and Grace bent over, her hands on her thighs. Sweat dripped off her face onto the fir needle duff below. She pulled a damp tissue from her pocket to blot it.

When she could talk again, she said, "This is a total disaster."

Josh wiped his forehead with his hand and then dried his fingers on his shirt sleeve. "Ya think?" he said.

She straightened, worked some saliva around her parched tongue, and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Yogurt!" she shouted. "Candy! Candy! Candy!"

Josh's eyes widened and his lips twitched as if he were about to laugh, then he joined in. "Banana!" he yelled. "Juice!"

They waited. There was no sound, except for a woodpecker drumming high overhead. They both tried again, but had no better results.

"Damn it!" Grace whined.

"I'll see your damn and raise it to double-damn," Josh countered. He glanced at the sky beyond the treetops. "I suppose you've noticed that it's getting dark."

Grace grimaced. "Hard not to. I also just noticed that while we're leaving a trail—" she pointed to the disturbed duff that marked the path behind them—"we're no longer following one." They both surveyed the ground at their feet. Surely the gorillas, on four feet, would leave at least as much of a mark than two humans had.

"Triple damn," he said. "Plans, boss?"

She surveyed the surroundings. Nothing but the tall straight trunks of firs and hemlocks for as far as she could see. What thoughts were coursing through Neema's and Gumu's minds right now? It was hard to guess.
Wahoo—free at last?
More likely, it was just
Run! Run! Run!
Gorilla panic took awhile to stop once it got rolling. How far would they go? Would they be able to find their way back home? Wild gorillas probably would. But gorillas that had spent their lives in pens and buildings? What would they do if they encountered a cougar or a bear? Or a rattlesnake? What if they reached the interstate? Oh god, she couldn't let her imagination go there.

"I'm sorry," Josh said.

She glanced at him, surprised. "What do you have to be sorry about?"

"Obviously, I didn't close the lock all the way on the barn enclosure."

"That padlock's always been hard to close; I've accidentally done the same thing a dozen times. That intruder opened the gate."

"I couldn't hold onto Neema." He held up his right hand—a deep red groove cut through the palm.

"Nobody could, Josh. She could toss both us around like rag dolls anytime she wanted." She sighed. "The collar and leash were always more of a behavior reminder than real control." She checked the sky overhead again. "C'mon. We'd better get back while we can still see our own path. With luck, Neema and Gumu will find their own way home."

They trudged back in the growing darkness, neither one wanting to talk about what they'd do if the gorillas did not come back on their own.

It was nearly eight o'clock and fully dark when they arrived back at the compound, hungry, thirsty, and gorilla-less. Three cars awaited them, surrounded by a small cluster of people, most of whom appeared to be local college students. Clearly the damn intruder had leaked Grace's address as well as the video.

"Yikes," Josh said. The group turned toward them. A flash went off on a camera.

Grace wearily waded into their midst. "Get off this property. You are trespassing."

More flashes went off.

"Why have you been keeping gorillas out here?" a male voice asked.

A young woman came out of the barn enclosure, a camera slung around her neck. "Where are the gorillas?" she shouted.

"Dr. McKenna asked you all to leave," Josh reminded the audience.

"But why are you keeping gorillas out here?" the male voice asked again.

Now that her eyes had recovered after the flashes, she could see it was a nice looking young man who held out an audio recorder. "The gorillas belong to the University of Washington," she told them, although she hated saying those words aloud. "They are part of a language research project."

"Teaching them English?" a woman asked.

Ignoring that, Grace said, "Now my two lowland gorillas are lost in the woods. They don't know this area, and they will be terrified. If anyone sees them, please call me." She gritted her teeth and recited her cell phone number.

"Wild gorillas loose in the woods?" another young woman asked. "Are they dangerous?"

"No," Josh said. "But they're scared. If you see them, don't approach them. Call Dr. McKenna."

"Now please leave," Grace said.

"Shouldn't the police be notified?" the audio guy asked.

"Why were Detective Finn and Judge Sobriski here?"

"What does this have to do with Ivy Rose Morgan?"

"Go home." Josh waved his arms as if he could scatter them like chickens.

Grace turned toward the study trailer. "I'm going to call the Sheriff to report trespassers right now. C'mon, Josh."

By the time they reached the trailer door, the cars were leaving. But within a minute, Grace's cell phone started ringing with calls about gorillas on the loose. She answered each one with "Did you see the gorillas?" and hung up when the caller said No.

"Should we call the Sheriff?" Josh asked.

"Think they'd help search for gorillas?"

"Maybe Fish and Wildlife Service?" he suggested.

She could see game officers now, patrolling the area with rifles. Not all would be loaded with tranquilizer darts. "If Gumu and Neema don't come home by morning," she told him. "Then we'll call for help."

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