Ann Littlewood - Iris Oakley 02 - Did Not Survive by Ann Littlewood

Author:Ann Littlewood [Littlewood, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery: Thriller - Zookeeper - Washington
ISBN: 1590587456
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
Published: 2010-05-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

My father sat in the Honda’s passenger seat, unclear about what I was up to, but willing to cover my back. I told him, “She’s Calvin’s daughter, and I need to talk to her about zoo business. She’s likely to get mad.”

“What are you up to?”

“I can’t say without causing trouble. I should keep it confidential.” The last thing I needed was my parents panicking again about Wallace’s death. He started in with the silence and the look that compels the whole truth. I scrambled out of the car.

The house was a shabby white bungalow in Lents, not the most prosperous neighborhood in Portland. I walked up an uneven path through an unkempt yard and studied the front door. An all but illegible note on a white card instructed me to knock, which I did. The doorbell had apparently perished long ago. That happened at my house and I fixed it with a twelve-dollar, no-wire, battery-operated doorbell in about ten minutes. Janet hadn’t bothered.

Finding the address of A Team Mom had turned out to be simple. I sent an email saying I had information about Kevin Wallace that I needed to discuss. Period. She had taken the bait. A short phone call led to this meeting.

The surprise came when I put her first name and connection with Wallace together. She was Calvin’s daughter and had worked at the zoo administration office before my time. Jackie told me all about her. Janet and Wallace dated until one day the gate receipts were found in her purse, and she was fired for theft. Several months ago I accidentally discovered that she was set up in an act of malice by another zoo employee, one who hated Wallace and wanted to ruin his romance. I’d told Wallace and Calvin, expecting that one or both would tell Janet that her name was cleared.

It was Thursday, my day off, and the first opportunity for this visit. While the dogs romped in the park, I’d thought about my appointment with a possible murderer. At the last minute, I’d abandoned the logic that Janet had to be smaller than my current size and therefore was no threat. I called my dad for backup.

The door opened and a woman said, “Yes?” The hair was still blond, with assistance, but the cute figure in Calvin’s photos of the young Janet had become a series of overlapping spheres—breasts, belly, hips all rounded and flowing into one another. She was still short, but the confident grin was long gone. She wore a loose chartreuse blouse over stretchy black pants, black flats, a little makeup. Her hair was curly and neatly brushed.

I waved toward my car as I said, “I’m Iris Oakley. My dad wants to wait in the car.” She glanced at the Honda, not interested, and let me in.

She sent me to a sofa covered in gray vinyl. It skidded a little on the worn oak floor when I sat down. No rugs anywhere. A teenage boy sat at the dining room table hunched over a drawing with a pencil clenched in his fist.

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