The Anteater of Death (28 page)

Roarke snorted. “Grayson never discussed his zoo work with anyone other than Jeanette. Why do you care, anyway?”

“Just wondering.”

“Someone banged you over the head, then shot at you, and you’re ‘just wondering’ why Barry Fields got his stupid job?”

I shrugged. “Were Barry and Grayson acquainted before the job interview?”

“How would I know?” he snapped. “Look, I’m getting tired of all your questions. It’s time…”

“Roarke, please.” Frieda tugged at his sleeve. “She’s been through a lot.” To me, she said, “No. That was the first time they met. I happen to know because we were at one of Aster Edwina’s excruciating Sunday dinners and Grayson—who’d just driven down from the City, where he’d spent a whole week doing interviews—was making fun of some of the applicants and Barry was one of them.”

“He actually made
fun
of Barry?”

She grimaced. “He put a napkin on his head and flapped it around like a loose toupee. He even told us he’d decided to promote the head zookeeper to the position, so I was really surprised when only two days later he gave the job to the very guy he’d been making fun of. Especially since he’d already told us the man wasn’t qualified for the position and didn’t seem to like animals in the first place.”

I winced at the thought of the napkin-flapping. So much for Grayson being a nice man. The more I learned about him, the less nice he seemed. But if he’d felt such contempt for Barry, what made him change his mind? I closed my eyes for a brief moment, trying to put things together.

“Teddy? Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the
Tequila Sunrise
with us?”

I opened my eyes again. Frieda was so beautiful and now that I knew she was pregnant, the small bump in her stomach was obvious. It’s odd how something can be right in front of you and yet you can’t see it. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine. One last question. You said that Grayson spent a whole week in San Francisco interviewing applicants. Jeanette was with him, right?”

“Probably. They did go everywhere together.”

Roarke cut in. “Not this time. Jeanette told me they both drove up on the weekend but by Monday afternoon, with all the applicants traipsing in and out, she felt a migraine coming on so Grayson hired a limo and sent her home. He interviewed all week, then returned for that miserable Sunday dinner at the castle. I remember because Aster Edwina complained that he hadn’t dressed for dinner, just bummed in wearing khakis and a golf shirt. Not that Jeanette cared. She was all over him. You’d think they’d been separated for a year. Between you and me, I don’t know how he could stand it, but some men are like that, I guess. Terminally dependent.”

So Grayson had spent almost a week by himself in San Francisco. Although this seemed to conflict with something else I’d heard—where?—it clarified other things. But it also raised another question. “Did they have a regular hotel they stayed at? I mean, what with the Trust and all, they had a lot of business in the City, so…”

Frieda raised her eyebrows. “I thought you knew. Aster Edwina keeps a townhouse in Pacific Heights for the convenience of any family members who needed to take regular trips up there. When we’re not sailing, Roarke drives up there and meets with his broker every Monday. He spends the night and comes back the next morning. That’s where Grayson conducted the zoo director interviews, too, not some anonymous hotel. Roarke and I always stay there when we go to the opera.” She paused. “Come to think of it, that week was when we saw
Salome
. You know, the production with the nude scene.”

With a wolfish grin, Roarke said, “For once, the soprano didn’t look like a truck. Look, does Teddy have to know all this?”

Ignoring him, Frieda continued. “We were going to spend the night at the townhouse, but when we saw they’d already grabbed the master suite, we went over to the Sheraton.”

Before they left for lunch, they gave me the townhouse’s address, and for the second Sunday in a row, I jumped into my pickup and drove to San Francisco.

***

The Gunn townhouse, a nondescript, two-story brownstone with a For Sale sign in front, sat on a tree-lined residential street in Pacific Heights not too far from Henry and Pilar’s Victorian. Backed up on Lafayette Park, the house felt secluded, at the same time, having good access to the restaurants and shops down the street. After circling the neighborhood several times, I found a parking space only three blocks away. No one answered when I rang the bell, so I walked down the street to Le Bon Appetit, a French bistro I’d passed earlier. While I was too late for lunch—the special was Lobster Newburg, Grayson’s favorite, as Jeanette had told me—the waiter did manage to scrounge up a bowl of thick onion soup topped with bread and cheese. He left me alone to enjoy it at an outdoor table.

The weather being balmy, the sidewalk was filled with couples meandering along arm-in-arm, looking as if they were going nowhere in particular. Preteens on skateboards headed for the park at breakneck speed, while a few oldsters clanked along on their walkers, eyeing them with irritation. Michael and I had enjoyed such lazy Sundays, and in my youthful naiveté, I’d thought they would continue forever. How could I have been so blind?

The answer wasn’t difficult. The old cliché was true; love
is
as blind as an
Antrozous pallidus
, more commonly known as a bat.

I was staring blankly at the storefronts across the street—a collection of galleries, crafts shops, a puppet theater, and a Starbuck’s when two blondes as alike as identical twins exited the coffee shop. Only as they crossed the street and passed in front of me did I realize how different they were: one was a teen, the other at least ten years older. One had blue eyes, the other brown. One was pretty, the other plain.

The waiter, who saw me watching, said, “From a distance, all blondes look alike.”

I’d almost made up my mind to return to Gunn Landing when I saw a long limo slide by the restaurant and double-park in front of the townhouse. Ignoring the flurry of honks behind him, a uniformed chauffeur stepped out and opened the passenger door. Aster Edwina swanned out, regal as a queen. The limo departed.

I threw down a ten. After noticing the waiter’s offended look, added another five, and ran after her.

“If it isn’t little Theodora Bentley,” She already had the key to her townhouse in her hand. “What brings you to the Gunn
pied à terre
?”

The question I needed to ask was unforgivably rude, but since she was such a rude woman herself, what did it matter? “Why are you selling your townhouse?”

Her glacial face iced over even further. “Go home, you nosy child.” She turned her back on me and unlocked the door. Before I could explain myself, she slipped inside and slammed the door in my face.

But not before I understood that her refusal to answer was an answer in itself. She might be prone to physical violence where grape-stealing kids were concerned, but she never, ever lied.

So I took her advice and went home.

***

Several people, some yacht club habitués and even a few zoo staffers had gathered for sundown cocktails on the deck of the
Tequila Sunrise
. When I stepped onto the boat, Frieda, surrounded by a group of women admiring her tummy bump, motioned me over. I shook my head, pointing a finger at Roarke, who hunkered alone under the boom. When he saw me approach, he gave an easy smile.

“Gorgeous, humm?” He gestured westward with his wineglass, where the descending sun cut a red and gold swath across the Pacific.

“Can I ask you some more questions?”

His expression hardened. “You’re getting tiresome, Teddy. Aster Edwina called and warned that you might drop by. You offended her deeply.”

“She’s always offended.” I lowered my voice further. “You’re having an affair, aren’t you? Who is she?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.” He sounded a bit smug. And why not? Men like Roarke felt entitled to the best life has to offer, regardless of how miserable their behavior made their wives.

“That’s why Aster Edwina’s selling the townhouse, because she’s tired of it being used for reasons having nothing to do with business. And your wife knows all about you and your women, doesn’t she?” I’d always wondered why such a beautiful woman felt so insecure. Now I knew. Henry Gunn’s catty comment about his new wife, Pilar, came back to me, that Pilar had once been after Roarke. To many women, movie star looks connected to piles of money acted as strong aphrodisiacs.

Roarke’s smile was mean. “Watch yourself. You can accuse me of anything you want but keep my wife out of it.”

I glanced over at Frieda. Other than those dark circles under her eyes, she looked like she’d never had a bad day in her life, but having once been married to a serial cheater myself, I understood her misery.

“Who —?”

He didn’t let me finish. Grabbing me by the wrist, he squeezed hard. Too hard for comfort. “For the sake of our lifelong friendship, tomorrow I’ll pretend this conversation never happened. But right now, I want you off my boat.”

There was no point in arguing, so when he released me I left him to his party. On my way back to the
Merilee
, I went over our conversation again. Who could the woman be? Who was attractive enough, secretive enough? I’d almost made it to my boat slip when the answer popped into my head. Roarke didn’t always prefer blondes. When we were teenagers, he’d dated a long series of dark-haired women. And at one of his cocktail parties several weeks earlier, an odd look had passed between him and a brunette I happened to know.

Energized, I headed for the parking lot, climbed into my pickup and drove to the zoo. Bypassing the zookeeper’s parking area, I took the back road through the lengthening shadows of eucalyptus trees to Dr. Kate’s house. This time I wouldn’t let her evasions keep me from the truth.

After my knock, the front door opened, but not by Kate. It was her husband. Although I’d known that Lowell Long had been confined to a wheelchair for the past several months, I was dismayed by his deterioration. The multiple sclerosis that had weakened his muscles had also ravaged his face, and instead of looking like the forty-something Silicon Valley hotshot he’d once been, he now resembled someone’s great-grandfather. A pang of guilt hit me so hard that I almost turned around and went home. But remembering that Zorah was still suspected of murdering Grayson, I stood my ground.

“Hi, Lowell. I need to speak to Dr. Kate.”

“Inna house. Wanna c…come in?” He slurred like a drunk, but I knew he didn’t drink. This was simply more evidence of MS’ downward spiral.

Before I could answer, I heard footsteps coming down the hall. Kate, looking harried, shoved a cell phone into her pocket. When she saw me, she frowned.

As he pivoted his wheelchair around, I met her eyes and placed a finger over my lips.

She understood. “Honey, we need to talk about zoo matters. Would you watch the kids? They’re in the family room.”

“Always g…glad…t…t…” He stopped, simplified his answer. “Yesss.”

She bent down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I’ll be right outside if you need me.” She closed the door behind her and followed me to a grouping of lawn chairs set up near a big bougainvillea. Its magenta flowers glowed in the dusk.

Once out of sight of her husband, she dropped her smile and chose the chair across from me, not the one that almost touched mine. “Why so mysterious? I don’t like keeping secrets from him.”

“If Zorah’s freedom weren’t at stake, I wouldn’t be here. But she’s my friend and she’s facing a murder charge.”

“Then hurry it up.”

“Two questions. One, what was in the independent vet study?”

“As I’ve said before, I can’t tell you. It’s merely a prelim, and therefore confidential.”

“Question two. Where were you when Grayson was murdered?”

Her obvious irritation flared into anger. “In bed with my husband, probably. From what the police said, I’m pretty sure I’d left the fund-raiser long before Grayson wound up in the anteater enclosure. As if it’s any of your business.”

“Are you sure you weren’t in bed with Roarke Gunn? And wasn’t that him on the phone, warning you I was on my way up here?”

To my surprise, she began to laugh, her wild black hair shaking as her shoulders heaved. With an effort, she pulled herself together. Wiping her eyes, she said, “Jesus, Teddy, what have you been smoking and can I have some?”

Startled at her reaction, I tried again. “But I saw the way you looked at him at one of his parties. I know he’s having an affair.”

The big grin vanished. “Yeah, he is, with some young idiot who thinks he’ll leave his wife for her. That’ll be the day. Regardless of the bastard’s behavior, he loves Frieda. And that ‘look’ you’re talking about? I saw him and his new little hotsy together once, at some out-of-the-way restaurant near Carmel. They were all over each other, so the next time I saw him I told him what I thought of all that screwing around behind his poor wife’s back. One more thing. The phone call I was on when you came banging at the door? That was the woman who runs the book club I belong to. She was rescheduling our next meeting because she’s having trouble with her recent tummy tuck.” She laughed again. “We’re reading the new Updike, which as usual, is about adultery. Talk about apropos, huh?”

I felt like a fool and I guess it showed on my face. Before I debased myself further, Kate leaned forward and tapped me on the knee. “Don’t take it so hard, Teddy. You’re not the only one who thought I was having an affair with Roarke.”

An owl hooted from the eucalyptus and I looked around to see that all traces of light had vanished. Something rustled in the bushes behind me, and the owl dove out of the tree. The rustling intensified until a small animal screamed. When the owl flew back into the tree, something wriggled in its talons. Kate ignored it.

The small but vicious wildlife drama finished, I asked the obvious. “Who else thought so?”

“Barry.” Her humor disappeared. “Like you, he misread the signs, although he had more to go on. He was having his second job interview with Grayson the same day I happened to be shopping up in San Francisco. I dropped by the Gunn’s townhouse to have lunch with Aster Edwina in case she was in, but Roarke answered the door and told me she’d gone home. He invited me in for coffee, and I took him up on it. Now, before you get excited, it was all above board. He never touched me, and I sure as hell never touched him. What I didn’t know at the time was that Barry had arrived early for his interview and was killing time by having coffee on the Starbuck’s patio down the street. He spotted Roarke walking me out to my car afterwards.”