The Beast (42 page)

“The gun had a silencer.”

“Even so, there was a fierce scuffle.”

“People were used to hearing weird noises coming from Penny’s apartment,” Marge said. “The guy was a serial killer. Maybe it wasn’t the first time.”

Decker conceded the point. He thought a moment. “When we first got the call, we had to evacuate the building because of the tiger. Everyone scattered for a few days. Now the residents are back and things have settled down. We only interviewed about a third of the building.”

“I can get a team together to go back and canvass,” Marge said. “You want to find whoever took the cash and the gun?”

“Exactly. If Penny wasn’t shot by Randi or Havert, there has to be someone else involved.”

Oliver said, “The autopsy says that Penny was killed by blunt
force. I can see someone coming in and stealing the cash. But would anyone shoot the dead guy in the back?”

“Blunt force might have
eventually
killed Penny,” Decker said. “But the autopsy never specified
when
he died. Maybe he lingered on for a few hours before he died. It could just be that Penny moved or groaned or did something to show the intruder that he was still alive. So the guy panicked, picked up the gun, and shot Penny in the back, probably the final coup de grâce. Then he took the cash and the gun and got the hell out of Dodge.”

Both Marge and Oliver agreed that the scenario was plausible.

Decker said, “The person may not be responsible for murder directly, but if that’s what happened, it certainly wasn’t a justifiable shooting. Moreover, the person was committing burglary.” A pause. “Ideas?”

“George Paxton,” Marge said. “Someone heard a noise and called up Paxton to investigate. He had the keys to the apartments. He could go in and out of the places anytime he wanted.”

Oliver said, “I’d nominate Paxton as well.”

“Then again, Randi and Havert told us that the tiger was beginning to stir,” Marge said. “If the animal was up and about, Vignette Garrison was probably the only person other than Penny who could get past the tiger without getting mauled to death.”

Decker nodded. “Ordinarily I’d go with Vignette. The tiger is a major deterrent against intruders. But
if
someone in the complex did hear the gunshots and call Paxton, and
if
Paxton went to investigate right away, the super might have had just enough time to shoot Penny, steal the cash, and get the hell out before kitty was fully awake and on the prowl.”

“Hence the reason why you want to interview all the residents,” Marge said. “I’ll see if I can find someone who complained to Paxton.”

“That’ll take a while,” Oliver said. “I say we bring both of them in for questioning. Since the case is basically wrapped up, they won’t even realize why we’re talking to them.”

Marge said, “Call me crazy, but if I did something wrong, I’d be suspicious if I got a phone call from the police.”

Decker said, “Agreed. So let’s pay them a visit rather than bring
them into the station house. It’s less intimidating, but we’ll still get an opportunity to feel them out.”

Oliver said, “How do we bring up missing cash and gun so that they don’t lawyer up?”

Decker thought a moment. “Both of them love money. Let’s go out on the pretense of knowing something about Penny’s will.”

“Since when do the police talk about the will of a victim?” Oliver said.

“Every time Vignette sees me, she’s asks about the will. She won’t be a problem.” Decker checked the clock. Ten after eleven in the morning. “I’ll drive out to the sanctuary and talk to Vignette.” He stood up. “I’ll leave Mr. Paxton in your very able hands.”

NO HIGHWAY ACCIDENTS
and an off-hour made the ride out to Global Earth Sanctuary a breeze. Even after he exited the freeway and drove the back roads, he made decent time because he knew where he was going. Behind the wheel, he thought about his future without LAPD. For the past week, he had listed the pros and cons of living in L.A. versus living back east.

After suffering through the cold of Montana, Decker had been having second thoughts about a true winter. He had always lived in sunshine. But the cold was not nearly enough to outweigh the practicality of living near his children. The more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t picture himself being 2,500 miles away from his grandsons.

Of course, Rina was a consideration. Community was especially important to her. And being kosher and living in L.A., she had so many conveniences at her fingertips—bakeries, butcher shops, markets, and restaurants. Compared to what they had, they’d be going to a wasteland for anyone Orthodox. Rina told him she’d adapt, and that she’d be thrilled to be near the kids, but he wasn’t sure if he believed her.

But a new and less intense job would mean fewer hours at work, so they’d have more time together. But he couldn’t tell if she was just being nice . . . trying to support his decision.

Maybe she was excited about the move. She was already looking at real estate in the area.

Lots of land. You could have horses again.

What about you
?

I’m always up for a new adventure.

He’d do anything for her . . . including the ultimate sacrifice.

If you’re really worried about your parents, Rina, we can get a place with an in-law suite.

Wow, you must be really desperate to get out of town.

Rina had laughed when she said that. Thinking about it made him laugh. He was still smiling when he reached Global Sanctuary and pulled up next to Vignette’s broken-down Honda. When he got out, the air was cool but not cold. The sky was clear, and it felt good to take in a deep breath.

He approached her trailer and knocked on the door.

No answer.

“Vignette?” he called out. “Vignette, it’s Lieutenant Decker. Got some news for you.”

Still no answer. She must be out tending the animals. He had two options—to look for her or to wait for her. The place was a maze of walkways and trails that shimmied past temporary enclosures of wild beasts. The animals were caged up, but not as secure as Decker would have liked. Global Sanctuary wasn’t a zoo, and the animals weren’t used to strangers.

Still, he hadn’t come all this way to twiddle his thumbs. He started up the hill, calling her name as he walked. But whenever he opened his mouth, he was immediately drowned out by roars, snorts, grunts, and ululating. As he climbed deeper within the sanctuary, the paths narrowed, the brush grew denser, and it seemed to him that the animals grew more agitated.

“Vignette?” he called out.

No response.

Deeper and deeper into the mountains.

He finally saw her kneeling down in front of the grizzly bear cage, once again tending to the bear’s injured paw. The bear was
inside a makeshift enclosure while Vignette was on the outside, studying his paws. Decker didn’t know the grizzly’s specific state of mind, but he was sure making a lot of noises: growling and grunting loudly while Vignette was trying to quiet him in a calm voice.

The first time Decker called out, she didn’t hear him. He was forced to raise his voice. “Vignette?”

She startled and jumped up, dropping his paw with a thud. The grizzly immediately sensed her fright and lashed out at the enclosure, buckling the wire fencing. Vignette’s eyes went back and forth between the grizzly and Decker.

Another slap of the paws and the fence was completely down. The grizzly charged Decker, striking out, ripping his clothes down to his flesh. He managed to jump back, but the claws still scratched. His wounds hurt and were bleeding, not serious . . . yet.

“
Drop!
” Vignette screamed out to him. “Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move!”

Decker learned, after years of working in military and paramilitary, that when one barked orders, it was best to follow them
immediately
.

He hit the ground.

Just as the bear was about to whack him a second time, Vignette was there between the paw and Decker’s prone body. The claws sliced through her jacket and scored her shoulder with bloody parallel ruts. But she spoke with a firm voice despite the terror in her eyes. She pushed the beast in the chest. “Back, Cody! Back, back!”

The grizzly paused just long enough for her to shove him back again. He grunted out a sound that played a mournful melody.

Vignette was starting to shake. Her flesh was torn: blood was running down her shoulder. “Cody, back!” Another push. “Back, back, back!”

The bear retreated into the compromised enclosure. Somehow, she managed to walk him into his feeding pen, where she closed the gate and padlocked it with red fingers. The bear had followed while whimpering all the way.

Tears were running down Vignette’s eyes. “Good boy, Cody. Good boy.”

Her complexion grew pasty. To Decker she said, “Are you hurt?”

“No—”

“Stay where you are.” She went over to her bucket of salmon and toted it with her uninjured shoulder to the bear. “Good boy, Cody. Good boy.” She threw an entire fish into the cage. She watched as he gobbled up the fish and gave him another one. “Good boy.”

Slowly she made her way back to Decker. “I think I might need help going down.”

“I’ll carry you.” With all the adrenaline pumping into his body, he could probably carry a freight train. His heart was beating a mile a minute.

“No, that’ll agitate him again,” Vignette said. “I can walk. Just give me your arm.”

“Lean against me.”

“I’ll get blood on your shirt.”

Decker looked at his bare chest. Four neat red rakes across his torso. “What shirt?”

She actually laughed. They started down the trails. Halfway to the parking lot, she stumbled. Decker picked her up and said, “Don’t argue.”

When they finally did make it into the trailer, Decker set her into a chair and said, “Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Yes.”

“I want to try to stop some of the bleeding before I take you to the hospital.”

“I’m not going to any hospital.”

“You’re torn up. You need
stitches
.”

“I’ll be . . .” She swallowed hard. “First aid is in the drawer of the filing cabinet.”

She was panting. Decker found the first aid kit and opened it up. It had everything he needed for the short run. He slipped on the latex gloves and immediately staunched the flow of blood. No arteries were spurting, but the gashes were very deep. Holding the wound
with pressure from the fingers of one hand, he stretched out his other hand and managed to secure a water bottle from the top of her desk. “Drink.”

“Thanks.”

Decker pulled away one set of bloody gauze and unfurled the next roll, adding even more pressure with his fingers. He spotted a tube of Neosporin and a bottle of alcohol.

Vignette had drained the water bottle. She noticed him looking at the antiseptics and weighing his options. “Pour it on. I can take it.”

“I’m just wondering if the best thing is to do nothing. I don’t want to pour infection into the wound.”

“I vote alcohol. If you don’t do it, I will.”

“Fine. Hold still. It’s going to kill.” Decker undid the cap and poured it directly on the gashes.

She let out a yell. “Wow that hurts!”

“Vignette, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No!” She was adamant. “If the authorities find out that Cody hurt me, they’ll put him down. We both know it wasn’t his fault.”

“It wasn’t?” Decker did a second dosing of alcohol.

“Yeow!” she screamed. “No, it wasn’t. You scared me, I jumped up, and he was being protective.” Tears were streaming down her face. “If he wanted to kill both of us, he could have done it in a flash. Absolutely no hospital. No, no, no!”

He spoke softly. “Honey, you need
stitches
. You have no option.”

“Yes, I do,” she insisted. “I’ve sewn up animals when the vet can’t make it out. I’m sure I can sew myself up.”

“There is no way in
hell
you can do that.”

“What choice do I have?” She looked at him. “Unless you want to sew me up. You seem okay with blood. You should take care of those scratches by the way. If you don’t, they’ll get infected.”

“Forget about me. I’m fine.” Decker blew out air. “Do you have a suture kit?”

“I have several suture kits. Do you know how to suture?”

“I’ve done it in the past . . . in the way past. But I did it a lot, so I think I’m okay.”

“You were a doctor?”

“A medic in Vietnam.”

“That is ancient history.”

“Thank you very much.” Decker removed the gauze. “Do you have any kind of anesthetic?”

“Mostly when I do animals, they’re knocked out. But I do have some topical.” She got up and swooned.

“I’ll get it.” Decker rewrapped the lacerations. “Don’t move. Just tell me where everything is, all right?”

“In the lower file drawer . . . no, not that one . . . yeah, that one.

“Got it.” He looked at several suture kits until he decided upon the needle and thread size he wanted to use. “I’d like to get the bleeding under control.”

She was quiet. “Is it bad?”

“Yes, it’s very bad.”

“Do the best you can.”

“I’m not happy doing this. You need a doctor.”

“Go for it, Lieutenant.”

After gently dabbing the swollen skin with topical, he opened the front flap of the kit and picked up the semicircular, prethreaded needle with a forceps.

The first stitch was the hardest. But some things were never forgotten. Decker said, “I’m sewing it loose because the wound is going to swell even more than it already is.”

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

“You need to see a doctor.”

“Out of the question.” She was a trouper. Barely moving even though he knew it was excruciatingly painful.

He said, “Thank you for saving my life.”

“It was all just a big misunderstanding on Cody’s part.”

“Thank you, nonetheless,” Decker said again.

“Why’d you come down here? I thought Mr. Penny’s case was solved . . . that the hooker did it.”

“That is the story.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we have some loose ends that we’re trying to tie up.”