Читать книгу Diamond Legacy - Monica McCabe - Страница 13

“I watched you with the hippo yesterday,” Letta Mombasa said. “You’ve a strong sense of the animal kingdom.”

Pleased by the comment, Miranda smiled at the clinician serving her residency at Katanga. Assigned the task of orienting her and Jason for their short stay, Letta had greeted them with warmth and friendliness the moment they’d arrived.

“Estelle proved a worthy challenge.” Miranda swung her medical bag off her shoulder and dropped it on a spotless counter. “I almost came out on the losing end.”

Letta shook her head. “You had fierce concentration,” she said with equally fierce scrubbing of an exam table. “You did not falter.”

Compliments aside, Miranda genuinely liked the young woman. She had a beautiful smile and smooth chocolate skin that glowed with healthy radiance. She was also helpful and unafraid of hard work—two qualities Miranda admired.

“My father is a big game veterinarian.” Miranda dug her stethoscope out of her pack and slung it around her neck. “He taught me early on to respect an animal’s primal instincts.”

“That explains some,” Letta replied. “Yet talent such as yours cannot be taught. One is surely born with it.”

Miranda smiled. “It takes talent to recognize talent.”

The compliment seemed to embarrass Letta, and she dropped her eyes, turning away. As she did, her elbow knocked over a bottle of disinfectant. “Oh, dear.” She snatched the bottle upright and sighed at the pooling liquid.

Warren Graham rounded a corner just then, grabbed a handful of paper towels, and tossed them onto the table as he walked by. “At it again, Letta?”

Miranda frowned at his retreating back. “What’s that about?”

“Nothing,” Letta mumbled as she wiped up the mess. “I’m a bit clumsy is all, and Mr. Graham is always gruff.”

That she could believe. They’d met Warren Graham shortly after arriving, and for a man heading up personnel, he seemed to lack basic people skills.

Jason poked his head into the clinic just then, flashing a sloppy grin and announcing, “I’ve found me a new love!” He pushed the door open wide and in walked a chimpanzee dressed in dark shorts and dragging a white towel behind her. She waddled straight for Letta and politely handed over the towel.

“Thank you, Roz.” Letta tossed it in a hamper.

Her morning chore complete, the monkey went to Miranda and gazed up in avid curiosity.

“Meet our reigning Queen of Katanga,” Letta said as she lifted Roz to the recently cleaned exam table. “She’s a permanent resident and convinced this place revolves around her.”

The monkey rolled her lips back in a charming grin. Miranda smiled back and extended her hand palm up in a gesture of friendship. Roz patted her hand in acceptance, then brought her hand to her forehead and down in a way of greeting.

Miranda blinked in surprise. “She knows sign language?”

“We taught her limited ASL,” Letta replied. “With the free reign she enjoys, we needed a way to communicate.”

Miranda returned Roz’s gesture, the sign for hello.

“You’ve kept journals of the process and her interactions?” Jason asked.

“Of course,” Letta replied. “You may read them if you like.”

“Absolutely.”

Roz grabbed Miranda’s wrist, her large watchband a subject of intent monkey fascination. When she began tugging on the clasp, Miranda wiggled her arm loose.

“Keep an eye on that one,” Letta warned. “Anything catching her fancy ends up missing. No one can find her hiding spot either. Somewhere on the grounds there’s a sizable cache of stolen loot.”

“Amazing,” Jason exclaimed. “Cute, full of personality, and an eye for wealth.” He chucked Roz under the chin. “Easily Gaborone’s most eligible bachelorette.”

They shared a round of laughter and Roz preened at the attention, gracing them with another big-lipped smile.

Signing the word “doctor,” three fingers on an upturned wrist, Miranda gave Roz a questioning look, and the chimp snuffled in good-natured agreement.

“Good girl,” Miranda cooed. “Let’s have a peek at those pearlies, shall we?”

With a little encouragement, Roz opened her mouth, and Miranda did a quick inspection. “Healthy gums, no indication of periodontal disease.” She rubbed Roz under her chin in reward, then donned her stethoscope and tried to listen to her heartbeat. The chimp seized the scope instead. After a minor game of tug-o-war, Miranda managed to listen to a strong heartbeat and clear healthy lungs.

“Fit as a fiddle!” she declared. “And strong as an ox.”

“A perk of living at the clinic.” Letta pulled a banana chip from her pocket and handed it to the monkey. “She’s friends with the entire staff, knows more about the workings of Katanga than most people here.”

Roz swung down off the table and, for the remainder of the morning, Miranda and Jason became acquainted with a host of animals, either permanent resident, or like Estelle, destined for zoo life. Some were rescues, too wounded or domesticated to release back to the wild, others were part of a herd-thinning or relocation program. As morning pushed toward noon, Miranda grew more impressed with Katanga’s progressive stance on protection and care of African wildlife.

And not just in Botswana. She learned their extensive network reached as far north as Kenya and as far south as Cape Town. The potential, the overwhelming necessity of the work they did, filled her with awe. Dad had often spoke of the continent’s need for animal and environmental conservation. She’d studied and read about the challenges, but until she’d finally seen Africa with her own eyes, she’d never really understood. Katanga was a shining example of success and possibility. How she envied those who were a fixed part of such vital efforts.

A low growl from a cheetah distracted her, and she slowly approached a pen. A resentful cat in its prime glared at her. She lifted the chart hanging on the cage just as Jason walked over and interrupted.

“Letta offered lunch and I’m hungry,” he stated.

“You’re always hungry,” she replied.

“And you’re so obsessed you’d forget to eat if I weren’t here to remind you.” Jason grabbed the chart from her hands and hung it back in place.

“Hey! I want to look—”

“At a menu somewhere,” Jason finished for her. “Let’s go.”

He steered them toward the door, and she would’ve argued, but lunch did sound nice. So did a chance to explore further. They hadn’t seen much more than the Oasis Pool and clinic since they’d arrived.

Quickly leaving behind the quiet sanctuary of the veterinary wing, they headed straight toward the Grand Rotunda, where an unholy racket grew in decibels the closer they got. Laughter and shrieks of school-aged children greeted them, cleverly disguised surround-sound speakers pumped out wilderness sounds and animal calls, and frazzled employees struggled to maintain control of the chaos.

“There are three main wings,” Letta shouted over the din. “The Okavango holds the clinics.” She pointed as they zigzagged across the Rotunda. “The Kalahari has administrative offices, and Chobe has all the classrooms and learning centers.”

“And wait until you see the stables,” she declared as they followed a group of school kids toward a busy cafeteria. “We’ve a special one just for giraffes. Twelve-foot doors.”

She stopped in front of a café and pointed up at a bright green neon sign that read Atjar. “It’s a South African mango relish. Ready to eat?”

“I’m always ready, sweetheart,” Jason replied with a wink. “Just say the word.”

Letta’s mouth opened in a little O of surprise, and she glanced inquiringly at Miranda.

“Ignore him,” Miranda replied. “He’s a natural born flirt.”

“Says the woman whose love life is nonexistent,” he shot back in defense.

Miranda glared at her assistant, but he shrugged and turned back to their guide. “Life is short, Letta. You gotta enjoy the ride.”

“How about we just enjoy lunch?” Miranda opened the door and waved them inside.

They followed stenciled paw prints on the floor to a chalk menu board hanging above a cashier station, and stared up at the day’s offerings. Letta helped them decide, suggesting Frikkadels for Jason, little hamburgers lightly seasoned with nutmeg, and for Miranda the Bobotie, a hot beef pie similar to English shepherd’s pie. Then they moved over to the drink line, filled up, and landed at a corner table near the exit.

“There’s another, smaller, cafeteria toward the back of the building,” Letta explained, “and an employee lounge upstairs in the administrative offices. But this one is my favorite.”

It was easy to see why. Native drums softly entertained diners while jungle scenes decorated the walls. It was spacious, colorful, and best of all, had fast service. They’d barely settled in when their food arrived. Enticing aromas wafted up and they dug in.

“Heaven,” Jason declared after his first mouthful. He reached across the table and forked up a helping of Miranda’s steaming pie. “Oh, Lord,” he mumbled around the bite. “They know how to cook in these parts.”

When he eyed the fresh baked soetkoekies, a spice and wine cookie, Miranda slid them out of his reach. “USA or Africa, it’s all the same. Dessert is after lunch.”

He laughed and accepted a roasted potato wedge from Letta. “So tell us,” he asked her, “are you from Gaborone?”

She shook her head. “I grew up in Karatu, a Maasai village near Lake Manyara in Tanzania.”

“How’d you end up here?” Miranda asked.

Letta absently stirred her soup. “Cattle are wealth to the Maasai and my father has many. He also has many daughters and no son to care of the herd. So he sent me to the university. They hope I will bring veterinary skill home to the village.”

“Is that what you want?” Jason asked with his usual blunt curiosity.

“I am honor bound. This year is all I need to complete my studies before returning home. I just need to get through Katanga’s program.”

“You will,” Jason stated confidently. “You’re a natural.”

“Not everyone thinks so.”

“I don’t understand why,” Miranda said. “It’s easy to see you love what you’re doing. It shows in everything you do.”

Letta’s gaze slid away. “Perhaps, but this is my third residency location. I’ve been shuffled from one clinic to another.”

Jason’s fork froze mid-air. “Whatever for?”

“I’m a jinx.” Letta lowered her soup spoon and sat back in her chair. “Catastrophe follows me.”

“Total nonsense,” Miranda scoffed. “No one is jinxed.” Except maybe herself. That could explain the perpetual disaster that was her love life. It wasn’t a dedication to her job, bad decisions, or lack of emotional commitment. There was a curse.

“I am unlucky,” Letta argued. “At my first clinic, a Jeep lost its brakes and I demolished a building. Three months later, I burnt a storage shed to a crisp with a faulty lantern and a bale of hay.”

“You can’t be blamed for equipment failure,” Miranda reasoned.

“At the second clinic,” Letta continued, “an aviary collapsed as I tried to herd a flock of flamingoes inside. The birds panicked, escaped the cage, and terrorized visiting school children on a field trip.”

Jason burst out laughing, and Miranda glanced at him like he’d lost his mind.

He only laughed harder. “I’m sorry. It’s just… Remind me sometime to tell you about the year I changed my college major from criminal justice to veterinary medicine. The comedy of errors that followed had me doubting my sanity.”

“Well, that proves it.” Miranda smiled wide. “Jason is the best intern at our zoo. And the same will happen for you. Quit worrying about jinxes. You’re good. That’s all you need to focus on.”

“Even if you are right,” Letta said with despair, “I’m afraid Katanga may be on the verge of sending me off after an incident two weeks ago. It’s why I’m assigned to look after the visiting zoo dentists.” She smiled sheepishly. “Keeps me out of the way.”

Miranda exchanged a determined glance with Jason. “How long before your residency is completed?”

“Four weeks.”

“Perfect,” Miranda said. “Jason and I will return the favor and mentor you through. Stick with us. We’ll tame that jinx long enough for you to gain certification.”

Jason lifted his glass. “A toast then…to a secret alliance.”

With a clink of glass and laughter, they drank.

Miranda’s eyes strayed, and her glance caught on a man in the order line. She frowned as something nagged at her. Sipping her drink, she watched him pay the cashier, then lift his tray, turning her way.

She promptly choked on her lemonade.

Mr. I’m-Not-A-Cop? Here? In a Katanga uniform?

He made his way through the drink line, looking every bit as delicious as he had at the airport, and took a seat at the back with a couple other employees. Dismay filled her as she tossed about possible scenarios for his presence. She didn’t like any of them. Nothing about this could be good. The implications were damning, along with the spike of heated anticipation just seeing him had inspired.

Jason waved a hand in front of her face. “Umm…see something you like?”

Miranda scowled and Letta chuckled. “If it’s the handsome one with the sandy-colored hair, he’s new here.”

“What’s his name?” Miranda asked.

“Matthew Bennett,” Letta answered. “He’s a janitor and has Katanga females all aflutter.”

“Aflutter?” Jason snorted. “Know what quickens a man’s heart? Good apple pie, that’s what. Add vanilla ice cream, and we get downright excited.”

Letta laughed at the joke, but Miranda kept staring at Matthew Bennett. Was he here on an investigation? Was Katanga in trouble? The thought inspired a tremor of alarm, both for the animals in residence and for her and Jason’s chances of returning home unscathed.

“Want an introduction?” Letta asked.

Miranda tore her uneasy gaze away and met Letta’s knowing one. She’d meet the man, all right, but on her terms. First she’d lay low and watch, work her own investigation. “Maybe later,” Miranda replied. “Work comes first.”

“And that’s exactly your problem,” Jason declared. “You really should shift focus once in a while.”

Her problem was she needed to get out of there before Bennett spotted her. She gathered up her tray. “Shall we get back at it? I’m anxious to look over microchip records of the cheetah in residence. I noticed inflamed gums when he growled at me earlier.”

Jason groaned. “Man, you never stop. There’s a saying. All work and no play…”

“Puts you at the top of your field.” Miranda finished his sentence, then gave him a sympathetic grin. “Let’s go.”

* * * *

Over the next two days Miranda either followed Matthew Bennett or avoided him. Inside and out, she spied on his every move. And he was good. He had everyone fooled with his cleverly disguised work ethic and friendly attitude. He washed windows, stocked supplies, emptied trash, even tidied up the grounds. No corner of Katanga was left untouched.

Yet his movements were precise, calculated, his eyes far too alert. More than once she’d had to beat a hasty retreat. The man constantly surveyed his surroundings and not because he was looking for a stray piece of trash.

What she didn’t understand was why no one else noticed the sharp watchfulness that belied his tousled devil-may-care appearance. Or the muscles that rippled under the shoulders of his too-tight uniform. Or the tan that clearly spelled time spent outdoors. She wasn’t deceived, but it seemed the whole of Katanga was smitten.

Especially Roz. The chimp trailed his heels like some love-starved waif. And she had far superior radar than Miranda when it came to tracking the bogus janitor. Find Roz and you found Matthew. She’d swear the monkey had a serious crush.

Miranda forced her attention back to the computer keyboard. Again.

Her follow-up exam of Estelle revealed a happier and healthier hippo. The pool had been refilled to a comfortable level, the infected incisor was healing nicely, and the lady suffered no ill effects from anesthesia. In fact, Estelle’s whole disposition had greatly improved.

Miranda noted the success of the procedure into the system. Another growl of her empty stomach had her glancing at her watch, and she sighed. She’d have to hurry. She needed lunch, but Jason and Letta expected her at the animal nutrition center by one o’clock.

She signed off and left the clinic, going instantly on alert. Truth be told, spying was a highly frustrating business. Despite keeping Matthew Bennett under near constant surveillance, she’d failed to discover any clandestine activity. No secret phone calls, no snooping in forbidden zones, no hint of improper behavior.

That maddening lack of evidence didn’t change her opinion of his motives, however. Clearly, he was up to something.

The sound of Roz’s monkey chatter caught her ear. For about a split second she debated against checking it out, but curiosity trumped hunger.

Scurrying forward into the noisy rotunda, she spotted Roz on the heels of the janitor and followed them into the Kalahari wing. A bank of elevators nestled in an alcove and they’d stopped to wait on a lift. Miranda flattened against the wall, then peered around the corner to see Matthew and Roz enter one of the elevators.

As soon as the door dinged shut she rushed over to watch the lighted numbers above the elevator. Two…three…stop. Personnel level.

She hit the stairs and raced up the zigzag staircase before pausing a few seconds at the third floor landing to catch her breath. Her heart pounded as she cracked open the door and peered into an empty hallway.

Silently she slipped out and made her way to the next bend where she spotted her target standing in front of Victor Keyes’s office. Matthew leaned in close to the door, his hands fiddling at the doorknob.

He was picking the lock.

She pulled back and smiled in wicked delight. That was called breaking and entering. Finally, something to nail him on.

A soft click sounded and she peeked again. He disappeared inside, Roz right behind him. She counted to ten, slowly, then headed for the opaque glass door. She leaned near, straining to hear any tell-tale sound.

Nothing stirred. Okay. Now what? Brazenly walk in behind them? Wait out here in the hall and surprise him on exit?

She opted for brazen. Spying was overrated anyhow.

Still reluctant to tip her hand too soon, she gently pushed open the door and tip-toed into an empty chamber, doing her best to make no sound as she closed the door behind her.

She faced the room. A polished mahogany secretary’s desk took up one corner, equally tasteful and elegant furniture filled the rest. Nice, but it was the open door in the back that caught her eye. Presumably Victor Keyes domain, and by the sound of Roz’s quiet snorts of delight, Miranda bet the chimp had her paws on soon-to-be-stolen loot.

A heady sense of anticipation tingled up Miranda’s spine. The novice was about to trump the spy. She could hardly wait to take Mr. I’m-Not-A-Cop by surprise.

Crossing the carpeted floor, she paused outside Keyes door, just long enough to take a deep breath of brazen. Satisfied, she shoved open the door and waltzed inside.

And two blinks later frowned in confusion. Where’d they go?

She stepped over to peer behind an executive desk big enough to classify as a dance floor. Nothing. She eliminated an entire wall of bookshelves, then settled her gaze on a set of closet-style doors.

Until a creak sounded behind her and she whirled around, coming face to face with her quarry. From behind the office door, two pair of eyes stared at her, one with suspicion and one with pure animal delight.

“My, my,” Matthew said. “We meet again.”

Trapped in a net of her own making, Miranda swallowed against rising nerves.

“Now that the riddle of my shadow is solved,” he continued, “mind telling me your name and exactly why you’re here?”