Part Three: The Spill of Sangria Blood
(Torely Stone continues to investigate the death of Tom Dantry by interviewing suspects Jenna Shaw and Rachel Holt. He also comes face-to-face with the killer and pays the price as he dances with the devil in the third part of the novella The Spill of Sangria Blood.)
The Kokosia Zoo was a sensory overload on this balmy Saturday afternoon. A discord of shrieks—both human and animal—assaulted my ears as I shuffled away from Spinnakers in the middle of the zoo. My nostrils were assaulted by the pungent cocktail of sunscreen, cotton candy, and eau de elephant dung.
Everywhere I looked a veritable menagerie of humanity that rivaled the actual zoo inhabitants. Frazzled moms pushed strollers like battering rams, their exhausted expressions a stark contrast to their spawn’s sugar-fueled mania. I narrowly dodged a sticky-fingered toddler on a rampage, his harried mother in hot pursuit.
“Trevor, no! We do not lick the penguin enclosure!”
I snorted, earning a dirty look from Trevor’s mom. Sorry, lady. Your kid’s probably building immunity or something.
As I meandered past the flamingo pond, I saw a gaggle of single men prowling the pathways. They strutted about like peacocks, eyes darting from animal exhibits to any female that looked vaguely unattached. One bold specimen sidled up to a young woman peering at the warthogs.
“Hey there. You really like those little guys. Wanna grab a coffee and talk about… warthogs?”
I cringed at the awkward pickup attempt. The woman’s polite but firm rejection was almost drowned out by a nearby lion’s well-timed roar.
Oh to be young and stupid again, I thought to myself. After all my experiences, I still was trying to prove something. I emphasized with the guy and thought about my own bad timings. A lot of failures, with the end of my sheriff career at the top of them. Why is it that no matter all the good you do, you’re only remembered for the failures?
Dantry’s death had me back in the thick of things. Maybe solving this would land me into real police work? So far, I had no clue about the killer, but “Project Atlas” was pointing me to a motive. What was Dantry hiding and who was involved?
Jenna was a possibility and so was Rachel Holt. But just because they were women, didn’t mean they weren’t involved. I needed to go over that list in the “Project Atlas” folder. As soon as Winters’ searched Dantry’s office and put it into evidence.
The lush vegetation lining the walkways provided a brief respite from the my thoughts about the case. I paused beneath a towering eucalyptus, its distinctive aroma mingling with the salty tang of the nearby Pacific. A gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming jasmine, a stark contrast to the earthy musk emanating from the primate enclosures.
As I continued my walk through the zoo, with its mix of humanity and nature, I couldn’t help thinking that the peacefulness was a far cry from the events of last night. And I wondered if things had settled down or if more monkey business was on the way.
Winters and crime scene techs were going through Dantry’s office when I showed up to make sure he’d secured the “Project Atlas” folder. He waived for me to join him. Jenna Shaw also was in the room rocking in place and holding a brown day planner.
“Jenna has something that ties you to Dantry,” Winters reached for the planner. He pointed to an entry. “Looks like you and Dantry were going to meet regarding Project Atlas.”
I read the entry for myself: “Meet Stone. Discuss Atlas termination.”
“I have no idea,” I handed back the planner to Winters. “Maybe he planned to bring me into the loop.”
“Jenna thinks you met with Dantry and didn’t like what he told you. Gives you a motive,” Winters intimated and Jenna agreed by nodding.
“First off, me and Dantry would have to meet, which didn’t happen. And secondly, I was drinking mojitos when he was killed.”
After being shot at and chasing the killer, I was in no mood for Winters’ acting like a jackass. “Let’s go down this safari trail; a better question to ask is where were you Ms. Shaw?”
Jenna Shaw turned white. “I was home… I went to bed… I had nothing to do with the murder!”
“You told me Dantry and you were in a relationship.” I threw that little tidbit out to turn the table. Shaw turned fuming mad and beet red.
“I told you that in confidence,” she shrieked. “You had no right!”
“I suppose you can provide an alibi for the time of Dantry’s death?” Winters scrutinized Jenna’s face waiting for an answer.
“Just what I told you: I was home.”
“My assistant Carrie can back me up on my schedule and whether I met with Dantry or not.” I offered. ”Which sounds a whole lot more than what you’ve got Ms. Shaw.”
“Dantry came over… and we had a fight. But I didn’t kill him!” Shaw insisted.
“Sounds like you had motive Ms Shaw.” I caught Winters’ eye and he nodded.
Jenna Shaw glared at me with the penetrating eyes of a cobra. Winters handcuffed her arms behind her back and led her out of the office. At last we had someone who might have the means for Dantry’s death. If we had motive, was another story. We had to find out the answers when Winters questioned Ms. Shaw.
After I left Dantry’s office, I wandered down to see Rachel Holt. The head veterinarian was readying to leave her office.
“Mind if we talk?”
Dr. Holt’s fingers were fidgeting with the stethoscope around her neck, her eyes darting around the room like a caged animal looking for escape.
“Dr. Holt,” I said, my voice cutting through the tension. “You and Dantry had some disagreements recently, didn’t you?”
Rachel’s head snapped up, her eyes meeting mine. “I… we had professional differences, yes.”
“Professional differences?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Would these ‘differences’ have anything to do with an expansion of the zoo?”
The color drained from Rachel’s face faster than water from a leaky bucket. “How did you-“
“I’m head of security, doc. It’s my job to know things.” I leaned in, lowering my voice. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”
Rachel’s shoulders slumped. “Dantry… his expansion plan focused on breeding endangered species without regard for genetic diversity. It was all about profit, not conservation. I couldn’t stand for it.”
“Project Atlas was just a plan, right?” I offered to Dr. Holt. She was puzzled.
“Is that what he was calling it? I never heard the name. He only told me about his plan a few weeks ago.”
Either she knew more than she was saying about “Project Atlas” or she was clueless. I nodded, filing away the information. Dr. Holt might be hiding something, but her passion was genuine.
Dr. Holt’s assistant rushed into the office. “We need you. A giraffe is hurt.” Without saying goodbye, Dr. Holt left faster than a gazelle.
No matter. Winters returned and I caught up on the attack at the Chimpanzee House. Three people stood out; Eli, Miguel, and the fast fellow who led me on a chase all over the zoo before vanishing.
“Miguel’s going to live and Eli needed some stitches,” Winters said.
“Why were they hanging out with the chimps?”
“Turns out they were doing some sleuthing on their own,” Winters explained. “They recognized arguing and thought it might be the murderer.”
“And the dart guns?”
“Eli says he grabbed one in the veterinary office behind the chimps for protection,” Winters stated. “Sounds like they needed it.”
I pondered what Winters told me.
“We aren’t any closer to solving this.”
“Well, maybe Ms. Shaw can fill in some cracks.”
Jenna Shaw sat alone in the interrogation room as Winters wandered in with the “Project Atlas” folder and a cup of coffee. He offered the cup to her as I watched them through the observation window.
“Do you want an attorney?” he asked.
“No. Nothing I say will connect me to Dantry’s murder.”
Winters started with some basic questions that led to Shaw’s fight with Dantry.
“What was the fight about?” Winters quizzed Shaw who tapped her fingers on the metal table. She offered nothing.
“Let’s talk about Project Atlas, shall we?”
A sharp intake of breath.
“I don’t recognize what you’re talking about,” she replied, her voice wavering.
Winters chuckled darkly. “Cut the crap, sweetheart. You and Dantry were more than just colleagues, weren’t you? What got you so mad you killed him for it?”
“I didn’t kill him. Although I wanted to.” Shaw shouted. “He was never going to leave his wife… so I ended it.”
That didn’t make sense. Dantry was a bachelor. I was sure of it.
“You sound like a woman scorned,” Winters scoffed. “I suppose you’re going to tell me now you just amicably ended it?”
“Yes. And then he left.” Shaw replied. “We were supposed to go to the ballet. I still had the tickets, so I went alone.”
This was new information and took the wind out of my sails.
“You can prove you went to the ballet?” demanded Winters.
“I met up with Dr. Finkle and his wife Mary. We stayed for the performance and then had drinks. I didn’t get home until after 1.”
Winters left the interrogation room and I met him in the hallway.
“If the Finkle’s confirm she was with them, she has an alibi.” Winters declared. “With an alibi we’re back to square one.”
“Listen, Dantry was a bachelor,” I pressed. “So, I can’t figure out this mysterious wife.”
Winters shrugged and went into the interrogation room to release her.
As I stood alone in the hallway, all I could think about was we were at the beginning. All we had was a folder covered in lipstick and perfume, and two female suspects who looked like they didn’t do it.
Shaw had said she and Dantry were having an affair and he wasn’t going to leave his wife. My friend Dantry was a bachelor, so Shaw related another thing that didn’t make any sense. The only thing that did make sense was Dantry was dead and we were no closer to pinning the killer.
The sheriff’s office was nothing like I remembered; it was cleaner and modern. The waiting area resembled a hotel lobby. The walls, once adorned with the weathered faces of sheriffs past, now gleamed with sterile white paint. A single photo hung in solitary splendor – an official-looking photo of Sheriff Shelton. All the deputies behind the counter were new and no one recognized me. So much for legacy; no one would pat me on the back if they wanted to.
I absently pushed through the glass doors into the bright afternoon sun. The courthouse square spread out before me, a patchwork of old and new. The sandwich shop where I’d spent countless lunch breaks still stood, but now it was flanked by a trendy coffee bar and a vegan bakery. Next to them was the park where I often ate my sandwich.
Uneven brick paver stones made up the streets around the courthouse square and they were just as worn. I took it all in; lawyers, defendants, and family walked around me conducting business with the county. I couldn’t help but think; they all were animals out on furlough waiting to be put back in their cages.
“Speaking of cages,” I laughed to myself. “I’d better get back to mine.” I stepped off the curb and reached for my fob to enter the car.
That’s when I sensed it – a faint whistle cutting through the air. Before I could react, something pinged off the car roof. A dart clattered to the sidewalk, its needle glinting in the sunlight. Stunned pedestrians quickly moved away. I turned in the direction of the shooter. I didn’t see anyone except a line of people in front of the sandwich shop.
I dropped to the ground, my aging knees protesting. Another dart whizzed past, lodging itself between the car’s window and door frame.
“What the hell?” I growled, scanning the rooftops for the unseen assailant.
My heart pounded in my chest as I army-crawled to a nearby planter. The paver bricks bit into my palms, a grim reminder that I was too old for this crap.
I ducked close to the paver bricks. They were warm. That’s my last full memory as a sharp sting bloomed between my shoulder blades. The warmth spread out across my body as the sedative dribbled from the tip of the dart. Heat waves billowed up around me.
“Ah, shi-” I managed to slur before darkness claimed me, leaving me sprawled ungracefully in front of the courthouse like a discarded mannequin.
I groaned and pried my eyelids open, faced with sterile beige walls closing in around me. My head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton and then run over by a steamroller. My tongue was fuzzy and swollen as if I had swallowed a kiwi. Blinking away the fog, I made out three figures hovering over me: Winters’ craggy face, Carrie’s concerned frown, and… wait, was that Mary?
“What the hell?” I croaked, my voice raspy. “Sis, what are you doing here?”
Mary leaned in, her familiar scent of lavender and worry washing over me. “Oh, Torely. Thank God you’re awake. I came as soon as Carrie called me.”
I tried to sit up, but my limbs fell like lead weights. “Heard what? Last thing I remember, I was…” The memory slipped away like sand through my fingers.
Carrie placed a gentle hand on my arm. “You were hit with a tranquilizer dart. You’ve been out cold for hours.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. “Someone’s taking this game of darts way too seriously.”
Winters stepped forward, his face grim. “This is no game, Stone. The killer is closing in, and they want you six feet under.”
I attempted a sardonic laugh, but it came out more like a wheeze. “Well, aren’t I the popular one? And here I thought my charm was wearing off.”
Mary’s eyes welled up with tears. “Torely, please. This isn’t funny. You need to let the police handle this investigation before it’s too late.”
I took a deep breath, wincing at the dull ache in my back where the tranquilizer dart had struck. “Look, the fact that someone’s trying to take me out means I must be close to cracking this case. They want me dead because I’m a threat.”
Carrie’s eyebrows knitted together, her usual cool demeanor cracking. “That’s not exactly comforting, boss. You’re not invincible.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware,” I muttered, gesturing to my current state. “But think about it. Why go to all this trouble if I wasn’t onto something?”
Winters crossed his arms, his weathered face a mask of concern. “It’s a hell of a risk you’re taking, Stone. We can’t even tell who we’re up against.”
I managed a wry smile. “That’s the thing about mysteries, detective. You don’t know until you do.”
Mary grabbed my hand, her grip tight. “Torely, please. Find another way.”
I squeezed her hand back, my throat tightening. “I wish I could, sis. But sometimes, you’ve got to dance with the devil to catch him.”
The room fell silent again, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I could feel their worry, their fear. Part of me wanted to give in, to walk away and leave this godforsaken case behind. But I knew I couldn’t. Not when I was this close to unmasking a killer.
“So,” I said, mustering as much bravado as I could, “who’s up for a little game of cat and mouse?” Though I was not entirely sure which one I was at this point.
(Part 4 Coming November 7, 2024)
