Chapter 7
Police Chief Jane Dixon was a petite thirtysomething woman with light brown hair and angular features. She reminded Blake
of a younger Reese Witherspoon.
Her nose wrinkled when she saw the mess in Paradise’s car. “Nasty business. Have you checked the cameras in the area?”
With the door open, the stench wafted out their way. “The one that usually surveys the parking lot malfunctioned two days
ago, and I had to order a new one. It arrived today, but that doesn’t help what happened here this morning.”
“What time did Paradise arrive for work?”
“Around seven.”
Jane glanced around. “Where is she, by the way?”
“I had her take my truck. She had patients coming in at eleven, and I told her I’d handle it. She can come by the office if
you need to speak with her personally.”
“I’ll need to hear if she has any idea who might have done this.” Jane put her pen away and fixed her penetrating hazel gaze
on him. “This happened in the county, but you called me. More problems with Greene?”
“I knew he’d dismiss it like he has everything else. And there was an earlier incident, one more serious, that falls under your jurisdiction. I had you come here first so I could clean up the mess and deliver the car to Paradise.”
“More serious? What happened?”
“Someone broke into her apartment over the vet office.” He told her about the phone calls with The Phantom of the Opera music and the note with the quotation. “So we checked the camera under the eaves looking onto the exterior stairs and found
a person breaking in. He or she wore a dark hoodie, and we couldn’t make out any facial features, unfortunately.”
A worry line settled on Jane’s brow. “I don’t like the sound of that. Is she staying there tonight?”
“I’m going to change the locks and install some other cameras.”
Jane’s expression didn’t clear. “You and I both know someone determined to get in won’t let a lock stop them.”
“She’s armed.” He didn’t mention it was only with a tranquilizer gun.
“That’s good at least. But I still don’t like it.”
“Me neither, but she’s stubborn.”
“I tend to be that way myself.” Jane’s lips slid into a half smile.
Sirens blared behind him, and he turned to see four police vehicles, lights flashing, barreling toward the parking lot. His
gut clenched so hard he fought a wave of nausea. This was bad, very bad. What was happening?
The first car whipped into a parking spot beside Blake. Greene. A forensic van parked nearby and two more vehicles, orange
dust billowing from under their wheels, parked as well.
“Steady,” Jane said under her breath. “Show no emotion, Blake. The autopsy report came back early this morning.”
He swallowed back the questions and stood waiting for someone to tell him what this was all about. The driver’s door on the first car flew open, and Creed Greene exited. His frown was directed at Blake, and he approached with quick steps.
When he saw Jane, his stern expression faltered for two seconds before he grunted her way. “What are you doing here, Chief
Dixon? This is our jurisdiction.”
“I’m here about a breaking-and-entering incident in town.” Her even tone seemed to take the heat in Greene’s manner down a
degree or two.
“I see.” Creed’s green eyes were accusatory, but he said nothing at first as the other officers and forensic techs exited
their vehicles and fanned out toward the park. “Where do you keep the tranquilizer?”
Blake folded his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?”
“Answer the question,” Greene snapped.
Blake started to refuse to answer, but he caught a faint shake of Jane’s head. Raising the level of antagonism probably wasn’t
a wise move. “In the medical facility. It’s locked in a safe with the other medicines.”
“I’ll need to see it.”
“Do you have a warrant or something? Why are the forensic techs back?”
Jane shifted on her feet and took a step toward Greene. “I suggest you tell Mr. Lawson what’s going on, Detective Greene.”
Greene’s nostrils flared, and he shot her a glare. “This is my investigation, Chief Dixon.”
“But there are other investigations running that may be related to ones under my oversight. Don’t make me call the sheriff about your behavior. It’s hostile and uncalled for.”
Greene’s expression stayed belligerent, but he swung his attention back to Blake. “Ivy Cook’s autopsy came back. She was murdered,
and we’re here to collect more evidence.”
Murdered? Blake gave a slight shake to his head. “Raj attacked her.”
“Nice try, Lawson. Someone tried to cover their tracks with the big cat.”
“How do you know it was murder?”
“The drug screen found Telazol in her bloodstream.”
Telazol was the tranquilizer loaded into dart guns to subdue large wild animals. Like tigers. “Someone shot her with it? Was
a dart found or the wound where it entered?” When Greene pressed his lips together and didn’t answer, Blake turned to Jane
with bewilderment. “I don’t understand.”
“The dart wasn’t found, not yet. But there was a puncture wound on her neck where the dart went in. We’re going to need your
cooperation.” She nodded toward Greene and his team. “Please show the detective where you store your drugs and the equipment.
I’d suggest you move all visitors away from the area and any surrounding spots where a shooter might have a line of sight
into the tiger enclosure. How far does the dart shoot from one of the guns?”
“Let me ask the questions, Dixon,” Greene snarled.
She leveled her gaze back his way. “Then ask them yourself but in a civilized manner. Mr. Lawson is not under arrest.”
“Maybe not yet, but he clearly had access to the murder weapon.”
“As did a significant number of his employees. Do your job, Detective.”
Greene turned an arrogant sneer toward Blake. “From how far away can an animal be sedated?”
“Depends on which tool we use. A pistol will handle distances under a hundred feet. The rifle can be used as far away as two hundred feet. We’ve also got a blowgun for short distances with smaller animals.”
“Show me,” Greene ordered.
Blake caught the sympathy in Jane’s eyes as he turned to show Greene and his entourage the equipment.
The mewing was the first sign of disturbance. Paradise heard it in the recesses of her brain as she comforted the Benson family
over the loss of their dog. Willow had been struck by a car, and though Paradise tried her best, she’d been unable to save
her. She held the sobbing daughter against her chest while Mr. Benson comforted his wife.
It was after five and her assistant had already left. The mewing intensified as she showed the bereaved family out the front
door. A box with holes poked in the lid sat to the right of the door.
“Kittens!” The ten-year-old Benson girl sank to her knees beside the box and lifted the lid.
Paradise counted four tiny furballs loudly protesting the indignity of being cooped up. “What do we have here?” Her knees
scraped the pavement as she knelt and lifted one of the kittens out of the box. “I think they’re about six weeks old.”
They would have been better off to have been allowed to stay with their mother another four to six weeks, but their coats
were shiny and their eyes were bright. She placed the gray kitten back in the box.
The family left with the little girl looking back longingly.
Paradise picked up the box when they were gone.
“What am I going to do with you?” The kittens didn’t answer—they simply sat and mewed pathetically.
This was a question she’d have to answer for herself.
They were very cute though. One gray, one black-and-white, one mostly white except for a black spot on its face, and one all black. Quite the menagerie.
She made a stop inside and grabbed a bag of Evanger’s Rabbit & Quail canned food for kittens. Her other supplies would need
to be found at a pet store or a big-box store. She ticked them off mentally—litter and a box for it, a scoop for waste, bowls
for food and water, and cat toys.
Whoa, hold on there. She couldn’t keep four kittens. Maybe two. They were littermates after all, and she didn’t want them to be lonely. All she’d
have to do was find one other family to take the other two. Or two families to take two kittens each, though the thought of
giving them all away didn’t appeal to her. She imagined nights spent shining a laser light for them to leap after and cat
toys strewn around her living room. The boys would love them too.
She exited the clinic and started for the steps to her apartment before pausing. What if someone was up there? Blake hadn’t
come by to change the locks or install cameras. She frowned at her watch. He’d promised to come by around four thirty. A shower
and a change out of hairy, smelly clothes sounded much more appealing than hanging out in her office waiting for Blake.
She turned decisively toward the stairs and headed that way. Halfway to the landing, she spotted her green Kia coming her
way. She waved at Blake as he parked in the alley, then went on toward the door. The bolt of relief she felt at seeing him
startled her. For all her determination to stand on her own two feet, she wasn’t as self-sufficient and independent as she’d
always thought. Or maybe that was something that came with love.
The smile that curved her lips fell away when she turned to watch him come up the steps. His mouth was set in a grim line, and fatigue pulled at his lids. She took a step down toward him. “What’s wrong?”
He gestured toward the door. “Let’s go inside. I need coffee.”
She unlocked the door and carried the box of kittens inside to set it on the floor. The furballs were all sleeping, and the
black one cocked open one blue eye before going back to sleep. Poor Blake. The last thing he needed was another problem.
She washed her hands to make coffee. “I’ll make a whole pot. I could use some too.”
He shut the door behind him and locked it before he dropped onto a stool at the counter. “Kittens?”
She turned on the grinder and raised her voice over the noise. “Left on my doorstep at the clinic.”
“There’s nothing cuter than a kitten. The boys will want them.”
“I think I might keep two of them.” She filled the carafe and poured the water into the pot, then turned it on before joining
him at the counter. “Tell me.”
“Raj didn’t kill Ivy Cook. Someone shot a tranq dart into her and made it appear like a mauling.” He went on to lay out what
he’d learned about the murder.
Paradise rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms at the thought of being shot with a dart and left in the tiger enclosure. “What
was the actual cause of death?”
“The ruling is that Raj delivered the killing blow, but she would have died anyway from an overdose of the sedative. That’s
why they’re calling it murder. Even if Raj hadn’t been there, she’d still be gone. At least there probably won’t be an outcry
to put down our tiger. Greene’s coming over to question you.”
“Of course he is. He loves throwing his weight around. None of the employees will feel safe around Raj since he, well, you know.”
“I’ve already made inquiries to a zoo. I hate to lose him, but with the boys living on the premises, Mom would be a nervous
wreck. Me too.”
“Isaac especially likes the tigers.” She shuddered at the memory of the five-year-old’s visit to the tiger enclosure. They
could have lost him that night.
“Social media is already full of the news. This won’t make the job of rebuilding any easier.” He ran his hand through his
hair and the thick dark brown strands stood on end. “You sure you want to stick around, Simba? None of this will be easy.
I thought we’d start by talking to Ivy’s grandmother. We can go after church on Sunday.”
She loved his nickname for her because of her lion’s mane of hair. She stood and wrapped her arms around him. He buried his
face in her neck, and she held him tight. “You’re stuck with me,” she whispered.
“Good. I kind of like you even if you do smell like dog poop and kitty litter.” He kissed her on the nose.