Shallow Grave by Karen Harper

Author:Karen Harper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA Books
Published: 2017-12-28T14:59:13+00:00

19

They couldn’t find Jackson anywhere. Claire even waded through the shallow water onto Flamingo Isle, calling his name. The flamingos peered at her and shied away as if she were an alien being. On the edge of the small raised island, she could see where he’d been digging to make an inlet for the nests. But he’d evidently decided to just cover up what he’d done, heaping soil back in. He’d even thrown some palmetto fronds across it. His shovel was nowhere in sight.

Claire hurried toward where Brit had gone to check the trailer and his apartment attached to the supply building, but she came running toward her.

“He’s not back there. No coffee cup out or anything.” They hurried toward Tiberia’s cage. The tiger was restlessly pacing and glared at them, but Jackson was nowhere around, including in the work area behind the cage.

“Tiberia’s upset about something,” Brit said. “Someone’s been on the grounds, besides Jackson or us, that is. God forgive me, but I was scared we’d—we’d find him here. Let’s walk the whole perimeter of the fence before we call the police. After what you said about the crazy Cobham woman and her sons climbing fences—well, maybe she came back and Jackson chased her off and one of her bruiser sons slugged him.”

Claire wanted to defend Gracie, but she knew now was not the time. Yet how would Brit feel if someone took the tiger from her and gave it to someone else? She scolded herself for always getting emotionally involved with people. It was one of the pillars of forensic psychology that you had to learn to stay objective. Not doing so on an earlier case had almost cost her her life, and now she had another life she needed to protect too, she thought as she pressed a hand to her belly.

Claire was soon out of breath at the pace Brit set around the perimeter. But at the back turn toward the ranch, probably near where Gracie had said they’d scaled the fence to see the tiger, they saw Jackson on the ground on this side of the fences, turned away, sprawled in an awkward position.

“Jackson!” Brit screamed, and fell on her knees beside him.

“Don’t turn him over! He may have hurt his head or his neck, even his spine. He’s obviously unconscious.”

“He didn’t fall. There’s no ladder here, and he couldn’t climb that without one!”

Claire noticed a piece of snagged denim high on the fence, then bent over the prone man to feel for his neck pulse.

“He’s alive!” she told Brit. “A pulse and he’s breathing. But there’s blood on the back of his skull, like on your dad, so maybe he wasn’t meant to be. Call 911!”

Brit was already punching it in. She was right that there was no ladder, but imprints of one were on both sides of the fence. And, as far as Claire could tell, no piece of denim was torn or even snagged from Jackson’s jeans.

“I’ll go to the front gate to guide them in,” Brit said once the paramedics were on their way.

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