Die Again (Rizzoli & Isles, #11)(66)

“I find big cats fascinating, but I’m actually here because of a case we’re working on.”

“So it’s about work.”

Was that disappointment she heard in his voice? She couldn’t read his face, because he’d turned toward the enclosure, his elbows propped on the guardrail, his gaze back on the cougar. She considered what it might be like to have lunch with Alan Rhodes. Interesting conversation with a man who was clearly passionate about his work. She saw intelligence in his eyes, and although he wasn’t particularly tall, his work outdoors kept him tanned and fit. This was the solid, reliable sort of man she should have fallen in love with, but the spark wasn’t there. Chasing that damn spark had brought her nothing but sorrow; why did it never ignite with a man who could make her happy?

“How does cougar behavior relate to an ME’s case?” he asked.

“I want to know more about their hunting patterns. How they kill.”

He frowned at her. “Has there been a cougar attack in the state? That would certainly support the rumors I’ve been hearing.”

“What rumors?”

“About cougars in Massachusetts. There are reported sightings throughout New England, but right now they’re the equivalent of ghosts, sighted but never confirmed. Except for the one killed in Connecticut a few years ago.”

“Connecticut? Was he an escaped pet?”

“No, that animal was definitely wild. It was hit by an SUV on a highway in Milford. According to DNA analysis, he migrated here from a wild cougar group in South Dakota. So these cats have definitely made it to the East Coast. They’re probably right here, in Massachusetts.”

“I find that scary. But you sound almost thrilled by the prospect.”

He gave a sheepish laugh. “Shark experts love sharks. Dinosaur guys are nuts about tyrannosaurs. It doesn’t mean they want to run into one, but we all share that sense of wonder about big predators. You know, cougars used to own this continent, coast to coast, before we chased them out. I think it’s pretty exciting that they’re coming back.”

The family with the child had left the exhibit and moved on down the zoo path. Once again the cougar’s gaze turned to Maura. “If they’re here in the state,” she said, “there goes any thought of a peaceful walk in the woods.”

“I wouldn’t get freaked out about it. Look how many cougars there are in California. Night-motion cameras have caught them wandering around in LA’s Griffith Park. It’s rare that you hear about an incident, although they have attacked joggers and bicyclists. They’re primed to chase fleeing prey, so movement catches their eye.”

“Then we should stand and face them? Fight back?”

“To be honest, you’d never see one coming. By the time you’re aware he’s there, he’s already sinking his jaws in your neck.”

“Like Debbie Lopez.”

Rhodes paused. Said quietly: “Yes. Like poor Debbie.” He looked at her. “So has there been a cougar attack here?”

“It’s a case from Nevada. The Sierras.”

“These cats are definitely there. What were the circumstances?”

“The victim was a female backpacker. Her body had been scavenged by birdlife by the time she was found, but several details made the ME consider cougar attack. First, the victim was disemboweled.”

“A not-infrequent finding in a large-cat kill.”

“The other thing that puzzled the ME was where the body was found. It was up in a tree.”

He stared at her. “A tree?”

“She was draped over a branch about ten feet above the ground. The question is, how did she get up there? Could a cougar have dragged her?”

He thought about this for a moment. “It’s not classic cougar behavior.”

“After the leopard killed Debbie Lopez, he dragged her up onto the ledge. You said he did it out of instinct, to protect his kill.”

“Yes, that behavior’s typical of an African leopard. In the bush, they face competition from other large carnivores—lions, hyenas, crocodiles. Hauling a large kill up a tree is how they keep it away from scavengers. Once the kill is safely cached in the branches, the leopard can feed at its leisure. In Africa, when you see a dead impala up in a tree, there’s only one animal who could have put it there.”

“What about cougars? Do they use trees?”

“The North American cougar doesn’t face the same scavenger competition that carnivores do in Africa. A cougar might haul prey into heavy brush or into a cave before feeding. But drag it up a tree?” He shook his head. “It would be unusual. That’s more like African leopard behavior.”

She turned toward the enclosure again. The cat’s eyes were still riveted on her, as if only she could satisfy his hunger. “Tell me more about leopards,” she said softly.

“I highly doubt there’s a leopard running around in Nevada, unless it escaped from some zoo.”

“Still, I’d like to know more about them. Their habits. Their hunting patterns.”

“Well, I’m most familiar with Panthera pardus, the African leopard. There are also a number of subspecies—Panthera orientalis, Panthera fusca, Panthera pardus japonensis—but they’re not so well studied. Before we hunted them nearly to extinction, you could find leopards across Asia, Africa, even as far west as England. It’s sad to see how few of them are left in the world. Especially since we owe them a debt for boosting us up the evolutionary ladder.”