The Beast (7 page)

The road climbed upward until the elevations were measured in thousands instead of hundreds. In the late fall, the dogwoods, maples, and oaks had lost their leaves, standing dormant and skeletal. But there was still plenty of green provided by the plethora of pines and cedars. The air was cold and crisp, the sky was overcast, and as the car scaled the heights, the road twisted and curled. A sprinkling of snow attempted to cover brown detritus of rotting leaves, pine needles, and animal scat.

It was slow going. Then the road forked into two unpaved lanes. The navigation system became unglued and Decker had to rely on directions and a two-year-old hiking map. The car bumped along a rutted strip at about ten per hour. After twenty minutes, he saw the weathered post topped by a makeshift sign:
GLOBAL EARTH SANCTUARY 3MI
. An arrow pointed the way.

The temperature had dipped to the low forties, and Decker cranked up the heat. Assuming they’d be outside most of time, he had packed scarves and gloves and had given Gabe one of his bomber jackets. The length was okay, but being that he outweighed the kid by eighty pounds, the girth was way off.

Gabe had been listening to his iPhone most of the way. As they passed the sign to the sanctuary, he took out the earbuds and stared outside, rubbing his arms. “This is Southern California?”

“It’s a big state. You can get just about any climate you want except glaciers.”

“Sometimes . . . when I see unspoiled terrain like this . . . I just want to jump out and lose myself in nature. The problem is with my body weight and mountain man skills, I’d probably last about a day.”

“Did you ever go camping with your family?”

Gabe laughed. “Are you kidding me? Chris Donatti camping?”

“The man knows how to shoot.”

“Only two-legged prey. No, I grew up suburban, urban. How far is this place?”

“According to the directions, it’s three miles from the sign.”

“Thanks for taking me. Sorry if I’ve been bad company.”

Decker smiled. “You’re exactly the type of company I like. The quiet helps me think.”

“Yeah, you don’t even turn on the radio or anything. I couldn’t last more than ten minutes without something filling up my ears.”

“When it’s silent, your brain fills in the music,” Decker told him. “After all these years, I think I’ve finally learned how to listen.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

The lane finally dead-ended in a dirt lot that had been cleared for parking. There were several vehicles—a white van, a four-wheel drive, a Honda, and a golf cart that sat underneath a naked sycamore. The property held three trailers along with miles of chain-link fencing crisscrossing the trails. He and Gabe got out, the boy sticking his hands in his pockets. Decker adjusted his scarf. A bald,
stoop-shouldered man came out of one of the trailers and walked over to a white chest refrigerator. He opened the lid and began to stuff plastic bags of meat in a leather pouch.

“Excuse me,” Decker said in a loud voice.

The man looked up. “Can I help you?”

Decker walked toward him so he wouldn’t have to shout. “I’m looking for Vignette Garrison.”

The man pointed at the trailer in the middle. “Her office is there, but I think she’s out with the animals.”

“Okay if we wait inside her office? Little chilly out here.”

“Fine with me, but you won’t find it too much warmer inside. All we have are floor heaters.” Despite the slumped posture, the man was tall with cornflower blue eyes and white stubble.

Decker said, “Do you work here full-time?”

“Volunteer. I make my money as an accountant. Used to be at this time of the year, I’d never see daylight. A heart attack later, I found myself thinking about things other than quarterly estimates. Too bad shoveling shit doesn’t pay as much as manipulating numbers.” He closed the flap on the pouch. “Mealtime for the kitty cats. Wanna come see what we have here?”

At that moment, Decker saw a woman with long hair in the distance walking toward them. She wore a knitted cap, a thick jacket, tight jeans, and hiking boots. “Is that Vignette Garrison?”

“Yep.”

“We have an appointment. Thanks for the invitation though.” The accountant gave Decker a wave. “I’m off.”

Gabe said, “I’ll come with you. I’ve never seen lions and tigers up close.”

“Well, come along and enjoy the experience.” The man stuck out his hand. “Everett James.”

“Gabe Whitman.” He took hold of the man’s right wrist with both hands and gave him the musician’s handshake. “Thanks a lot, Mr. James.”

“You can call me Everett.” The man took out a set of keys. “This way.”

James opened the gate to go in just as Vignette was about to go out. They spoke for a few seconds, and when it was over, Vignette came jogging over.

Up close, she looked younger—late twenties or early thirties. Her hair was light brown streaked with blond and hung past her shoulders. Her complexion, even in the winter, was bronze in tone. Vignette’s eyes were round and dark, her nose was thin, and her lips were full and chapped. She rubbed her gloved hands.

She stuck out a hand. “Vignette Garrison.”

“How are you?” Decker took her hand. “Lieutenant Decker.”

“Golly, it’s cold. I’m wearing thermal socks and my feet still feel like two chunks of ice.”

“If you want to go inside, I won’t object,” Decker said.

“Not that it’s all that warm inside. But at least my feet can thaw out.”

He followed her up the three steps that led into the middle trailer. Inside, Decker saw a bank of metal file cabinets, four desks, and about a half dozen chairs. There was also a small kitchen with a refrigerator, a microwave, several hot plates, three space heaters, and a standing fan.

“Have a seat.” She pulled out a chair. Then she bent down and turned a knob on the space heater, then rolled it toward Decker. “This will help a little.”

“Is this battery operated?”

“Kerosene. We do have a generator out back. It runs the fridge.” She took off her gloves and hat. “Most of the animals are cold tolerant, but we always have backup heating just in case we have prolonged cold snaps. We also have our hot days. For the animals, we can control the heat by dumping ice in the water pools. We have a variety of animals that live in a variety of climates. What’s comfortable for savannah lions isn’t necessarily good for jungle tigers.”

“I’m sure it takes a lot of work to get it right.”

“You can say that again. People don’t realize that you just
can’t dump animals in a single environment and expect them to get along let alone survive.” She sat down. “I’m glad you came to visit in the cold rather than the heat. You’ll see the cats at their best. The fur is magnificent. Is that your son who went off with Everett?”

“My foster son.”

She wrinkled her nose. “He looks a little old to be in foster care.”

“He’s been with us for a while. By now, we consider him a member of the family.”

“We’re not so different, then.”

“How’s that?”

“I adopt strays, you adopt strays. It shows a giving spirit . . . to take in something and nurture it back to health. I often think of Global Earth as one big foster home.”

“Well, I hope it runs more efficiently than county care.”

“Oh it does.” The joke was lost on her. She pulled off her boots and then placed her sock-covered feet atop the space heater. “Did you find out anything about the will?”

“I found out there is a will.”

“Great. Do you know when it’s going to be read?”

“Uh, I don’t know if it’s like the movies where everyone sits in a lawyer’s office and hears all the allocations read aloud.”

“So how does it work?”

“I’m not positive, but if I were to guess, I’d say his lawyers along with the executor go over the provisions one by one. Then they are supposed to carry out the wishes of the deceased.”

“What happens if they don’t carry out the wishes?”

“If you think that someone deliberately took assets that were allocated to you, you can sue, I suppose.”

“Sounds very messy.”

“It probably is.”

She took out a tube of ChapStick and coated her lips. “So how will I know if I get any money?”

“Are you expecting money from Penny’s will?”

“No, not me personally. Mr. Penny did say he intended to support Global Earth after he died.”

Decker took out a notebook. “He said those specific words to you?” She was staring at the notebook. “Do you mind? Memory isn’t what it used to be.”

“No, sure, go ahead.”

“Did he say how he intended to support the sanctuary?”

She shook her head no. “I didn’t ask him. I thought it was greedy and ghoulish to get into specifics. It’s not about me, Lieutenant. I live in a one-bedroom apartment that’s as spare as the trailer. But I do care about the animals. Ever since Fern died, I’ve been trying single-handedly to carry on the legacy.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I miss Fern. She was an incredible woman. No one could possibly do what she did.”

“She died a while back, didn’t she?”

She swiped her cheek with her sleeve. “Three years ago. She was the backbone of this place. If Mr. Penny hadn’t come along, we might have folded.”

“How’d you meet Mr. Penny?”

“He found us.” She rubbed her toes. “Now that you’re here in person, I’ll tell you what I knew about Mr. Penny and the tiger. He had inherited the cub from an exotic animal importer who wound up in jail. I never got the whole story. What I do know is that he was going to donate the cub to us. That didn’t happen right away, and I guess after a while, he grew attached to her. I kept telling him that a tiger wasn’t always going to be a cub. I tried to let him know that she was going to grow up to be a very large and dangerous animal. And he kept on saying that he knew that and he’d eventually give her up. One day, he called up and asked me to come to his apartment. I thought that this meant he was ready to let her go.”

She shrugged.

“Instead we talked for a long time with the tiger in the room. At the conclusion of our conversation, he whipped out his checkbook and gave us fifty thousand dollars. I should have reported him, but
I was stunned by his generosity. And . . . we really needed the money.”

“I see.”

“I’m sure you’re making assumptions, but it wasn’t just about money. Tiki is an unusually calm cat. She’s gentle once you gain her trust. And she really did seem bonded to the old guy.”

“I’m sure she was.”

Vignette swallowed hard. “Did she hurt him in any way after he died?”

“Actually, no she didn’t.”

The woman was visibly relieved. “See? That’s Tiki. The two of them were exceptionally close. I know it was stupid to let it slide. But it came from a deep love between Hobart and Tiki and a firm commitment to this place.”

“What would happen to the animals if the place closed down?”

“I don’t want to think about that.” She set her boots atop the heater. “Are you warm enough? Would you like some coffee? It’s only instant, but it might warm you up.”

“Sure, I’ll take a cup.”

Padding around in her socks, she took down two mugs and filled them with hot water. Then she added a heaping tablespoon of instant coffee and doused it with milk before Decker could tell her that he drank his java black. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She sat down. “So you don’t know anything about the will?”

“No, I really don’t.” The woman looked dispirited. Decker pressed on. “I’d like to know what would happen to the animals if the place closed down.”

She shook her head. “I’d like to think that a zoo or a circus would pick them up. But the truth is that some of these animals are so inbred that zoos wouldn’t have any use for them. Zoos need wild stock to prevent inherited diseases. Lots of these animals were bred by for-profit dealers. The majority of the animals are too unpredictable for circuses and zoos, but they’ve lost their instincts to exist in the wilds.”

Decker nodded, and she continued.

“If we couldn’t find another sanctuary, the majority of the animals here would have to be put down.”

“Sad.”

“That’s why Mr. Penny was so important to us. When he saw what we were doing, he became a major supporter.”

“He visited here?”

“Yes, he did.”

“He was very reclusive. How’d you manage to get him out here?”

“It took a lot of cajoling, but I got him here several years ago. I wanted him to know what his fifty thousand dollars was doing. He seemed pleased. Then, a month later, I got a check for six figures. I nearly fell off my chair. We have other supporters, but he was the biggest contributor. His money gave us slack so we didn’t have to constantly fund-raise.”

“Do you have a professional fund-raiser?”

“Good God, no. Most of our help are volunteers. Like Everett James, the gentleman that you met. On top of helping with the animals, he helps us with our accounting. We can’t afford a big staff like a zoo or anything.”

“How many paid employees does Global Earth actually have?”

“Full-time, it’s only me. The costs come from feeding and maintaining the animals, state licenses, vet services, all that kind of stuff. I started off volunteering. Then, after Fern died and they offered me a junior position, I jumped at it. Allan was made president. Then after he left for Alaska, they were going to close the place down. I couldn’t let that happen without a fight. So I took over with a salary of twenty thousand a year—barely enough to pay for my car, food, and rent. A short time later, I got the call from Mr. Penny. It was like manna from heaven.”

The walkie-talkie on her belt suddenly belched out static. “Excuse me.” She took out the squawk box. “Hi, Vern, what’s up?” Static over the line. Vignette said, “I’ll be right there.” She signed off, slipped on her hiking boots, and began lacing them up.
“One of our grizzlies isn’t eating. Want to come with me and see what we do?”

“That would be . . . interesting.”

Vignette slipped some supplies into the pockets of her jacket. “Never met a grizzly before?”

“Nope.” Decker managed a weak smile. “An encounter with a grizzly never made it to my bucket list.”