Karen Harper - Shallow Grave

But it was Lane who spoke while playing. His moving chin bounced the violin a bit, but he didn’t miss a note. “Again, greatly appreciated. Brittany’s with the tiger—which, I hope, will be leaving here soon one way or the other.”

“We can take these things over to her.”

“Oh, let me take them into the administration trailer,” Ann put in. “This is all so kind of you. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll go with you,” Claire said. “The basket’s heavy.”

She took it from Nick and went toward the trailer with Ann. Though she seemed calm and was on her feet, she was a bit out of it and slow-spoken, so maybe she was on tranquilizers.

As they went up the steps into the trailer, Ann said, “I’m sure it was a shock to you—seeing it too.”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. I was worried for Brittany.”

“She loves big cats. Wants to work with them forever.” She cleared her throat and put the vase of flowers on a cluttered table, then began to empty things that needed to be kept cool from the basket into the small refrigerator in the corner.

“It’s a huge mystery, of course,” Ann said, bent over, not looking at Claire who found herself studying Ann’s body language since she couldn’t see her face. “He left a legacy. He had his problems, but don’t we all?” she asked, almost defiantly, as she stood and faced Claire. “As you can well observe, the fact we were all at odds with Lane—well, that was something that haunted Ben. At least Lane’s here today, playing happy music, wouldn’t you know.”

Before Claire could delve into that mixed message, Ann abruptly rushed past her and headed back outside, so Claire followed.

* * *

Pulling a broken strand off his bow, Lane said to Nick, “I understand my sister or my mother might have mentioned something to you about needing representation and you sat in with them for the police interview.”

“In case state or national agencies levy a fee or some charges, they may need counsel. I expect their rulings will blame your father and not the BAA.”

“We all appreciate your advice, but surely an inquiry or possible charges will come to nothing. As far as I’m concerned, if the state wants to take that tiger, the sooner the better. Brittany loves the damn thing, but it’s pretty obvious they were all in over their heads keeping it here after it had been abused by some old woman. That made it more likely to strike out, I’d say.”

“You do realize this might reach beyond the State of Florida. The ultimate authorities are not only the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission, which will no doubt investigate, but it could go to the US Department of Agriculture. A bizarre death like this is national news.”

“Been looking into it already? I would like to get my father’s cell phone back, though. The cleanup crew found it wedged way back on the floor of the cage when he must have dropped it or maybe thrown it, and the police have it.”

Nick saw him shudder. As cold as Lane Hoffman seemed to him, maybe the man did have feelings for his father. But, damn, his attorney antenna said this man was covering up something.

“I can look into that,” Nick said. “As a favor for Brittany.”

The two of them stared at each other. A lamb baaed, and the ostrich Ann had been petting strutted off. Nick was amazed to see a flamingo sprint by with Jackson chasing it. Despite the tragedy here, this place had a certain strange charm, something Lane obviously didn’t get despite his The Carnival of the Animals music.

As Claire and Ann came back, Nick said, “If you two don’t mind, we’ll just go see Brittany before we leave. She has my number in case you need any advice. I’d be happy to help with anything, minus which music to pick to calm the savage beasts around here.”

“You know a lot of people misquote that,” Lane called after them. “It’s correctly said, music to soothe a savage breast—of people, that is. And some of us need that. Evidently my father did, and—as usual in his life—went about it entirely too gung ho.”

7

As they walked over the moat bridge, Claire observed to Nick, “No wonder Jace said Brit doesn’t get along with her brother. I’ll cut him some slack since he’s no doubt shocked and grieving.”

“Maybe in the orbit he travels, he was ashamed of them and this little place and feels guilty now.”

“I read anger in him covered by flippancy. And I read avoidance in Ann.”

“Lane may not want me on the case, but I see you’re working it already.”

“Not really. It’s just me, curious but cautious. Look, Nick,” she said, pointing, “both of them are pacing.”

They stopped when they turned the corner by the otter and beaver display. The tiger was stalking back and forth again as it had before, and Brittany was pacing with it, though she could hardly keep up, on the outside of the bars, but as fiercely and seemingly just as caged.

Claire had to call Brittany’s name to break the spell. She jerked her head around and frowned.

“Oh, glad you’re here. I’m just trying to calm him down. And myself too, of course. I think Darcy said you’re a shrink,” she told Claire as she left the edge of the cage, climbed the restraining fence and came closer. “I could use that as well as a lawyer, I think.”

“Actually,” Claire told her, putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder—she was shaking—“I’m a forensic psychologist, someone who works in the area where the law meets forensics. I observe and analyze people, advise lawyers, sometimes testify in court.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said, leading them to the same bench where they had sat a long time yesterday. At least the police tape had been taken down. Brittany ran her hands along her scalp as if she could squeeze her brain, raking her hair upward until some stood on end.

“Frankly,” Nick said, “we just spoke to your brother, and he doesn’t think anyone needs legal advice.”

Brittany gave a little snort. “He’s not the one in charge of—and in love with—that poor tiger. Tiberia’s been abused, lonely... Well, that’s no excuse for what happened, but it was carnivore nature. Human nature maybe some can control, but not that. I hate to say this, but I hope the investigators’ ruling will censure my father, not the BAA.”

“From my checking it out, I think you’re probably right,” Nick said. “I found a similar ruling that ‘the zookeeper did not follow established safety procedures.’”

Brittany heaved a sigh. “Or common sense, and that scares me. He did have common sense.”

“You said something yesterday I didn’t understand,” Claire told her, leaning closer. “You asked either Tiberia or your unconscious father, ‘Why did you do it this way?’”

“Did I? I must have meant that he went in the cage at feeding time when he knew better,” she said with a quick shrug. “But listen, I do have notes from the ME about the autopsy, if that helps, Nick—if you end up defending me or this place we had such hopes for. Here. It was so long and formal I scribbled notes from it. We’ll have the official death certificate in a few days. I know you could get all this anyway, and the police evidently have Dad’s cell phone. The newspaper’s trying to make the autopsy public. Well, how do they think a wild beast is going to attack someone, with a knife or gun? I could have written this about his wounds.”

But another paper fell out too, no, an envelope with bold handwriting on it. “Oh,” she said. “A condolence card with a note. For once this guy’s in our corner, at least, after he’s been wanting to buy this land.” She picked up the envelope but didn’t take the card out, just kind of waved and pointed with it.