Die Again (Rizzoli & Isles, #11)(23)

She stepped inside and saw a congealed pool of red beside a bucket and fallen rake. Blood smeared the concrete pathway in an ominous trail of drag marks, punctuated by paw prints. The trail led toward the artificial boulders at the rear of the cage.

At the base of those boulders, Rhodes and the blond man crouched over the woman’s body, which they’d pulled down from the rock ledge.

“Breathe, Debbie,” the blond man pleaded. “Please, breathe.”

“I’m not getting a pulse,” said Rhodes.

“Where’s the ambulance?” The blond man looked around in panic. “We need an ambulance!”

“It’s coming. But Greg, I don’t think there’s anything …”

The blond man planted both palms on the woman’s chest and began pumping in quick, desperate bursts to restart the heart. “Help me, Alan. Do mouth-to-mouth. We need to do this together!”

“I think we’re too late,” said Rhodes. He placed a hand on the blond man’s shoulder. “Greg.”

“Fuck off, Alan! I’ll do this myself!” He placed his mouth against the woman’s, forced air past pale lips, and began pumping again. Already, the woman’s eyes were clouding over.

Rhodes looked up at Jane and shook his head.





MAURA’S LAST VISIT TO THE SUFFOLK ZOO HAD BEEN ON A WARM summer weekend, when the walkways were crowded with children dripping ice cream and young parents pushing baby strollers. But on this chilly November day, Maura found the zoo eerily deserted. In the flamingo enclosure, the birds preened in peace. Peacocks strutted on the path, unmolested by pursuing cameras and toddlers. How nice it would be to stroll here alone and linger at each exhibit, but Death had called her here today, and she had no time to enjoy the visit. The zoo employee led her at a brisk pace past primate cages and toward the wild dog enclosures. Carnivore territory. Her escort was a young woman named Jen, uniformed in khaki, with a blond ponytail and a healthy tan. She would have looked right at home on a Nat Geo wildlife documentary.

“We shut down the zoo right after the incident,” said Jen. “It took us about an hour to get all the visitors out. I still can’t believe this happened. We’ve never had to deal with anything like it before.”

“How long have you worked here?” asked Maura.

“Almost four years. When I was a kid, I dreamed about working in a zoo. I tried getting into vet school, but I just didn’t have the grades. Still, I get to do what I love. You have to love this job, ’cause you sure don’t do it for the pay.”

“Did you know the victim?”

“Yeah, we’re a pretty tight group.” She shook her head. “I just can’t figure out how Debbie could have made this mistake. Dr. Rhodes always warned us about Rafiki. Never turn your back on him. Never trust a leopard, he told us. And here I thought he was exaggerating.”

“Doesn’t it worry you? Working so closely with large predators?”

“It didn’t worry me before. But this changes everything.” They rounded a curve, and Jen said: “That’s the enclosure where it happened.”

There was no need for her to point it out; the grim faces of those who stood gathered outside the cage told Maura she had arrived at her destination. Among the group was Jane, who broke away to greet Maura.

“This is one case you’re not likely to see again,” said Jane.

“Are you investigating this death?”

“No, I was just about to leave. From what I’ve gathered, it’s an accident.”

“What happened, exactly?”

“It looks like the victim was cleaning the exhibit area when the cat attacked. She must have forgotten to secure the night cage, and the animal got into the main enclosure. By the time I got here, it was long over.” Jane shook her head. “Reminds you exactly where we stand in the food chain.”

“What kind of cat did it?”

“An African leopard. There was one large male in the cage.”

“Has he been secured?”

“He’s dead. Dr. Oberlin—he’s that blond guy standing over there—he tried to hit him with the dart gun, but he missed both times. He had to shoot him.”

“So it’s safe to go in now.”

“Yeah, but it’s a frigging mess. There’s buckets of blood in there.” Jane looked down at her stained footwear and shook her head. “I liked these shoes. Oh well. I’ll call you later.”

“Who’s going to walk me through the scene?”

“Alan Rhodes can do it.”

“Who?”

“He’s their large-cat expert.” Jane called out to the group of men gathered near the exhibit: “Dr. Rhodes? Dr. Isles is here, from the ME’s office. She needs to see the body.”

The dark-haired man who came toward them still looked shell-shocked by the tragedy. The trousers of his zoo uniform were bloodstained, and his attempt at a smile couldn’t disguise the strain in his face. Automatically he reached out to greet her, then realized there was dried blood on his hand, and he dropped his arm back to his side. “I’m sorry you have to see this,” he said. “I know you’ve probably encountered some terrible things, but this is awful.”

“I’ve never dealt with a large-cat attack before,” said Maura.