Shallow Grave

“As I told the media mavens, I’m sure there will be an investigation. I may help out right now, but after all we’ve been through, we’re not getting involved in this. Listen,” he said, reaching over the console to put a hand on her knee, “let’s sit here for a few minutes to see if Jace drives in so we can brief him before he goes inside.”

“Okay, fine. But Brittany was in charge of that tiger. Could the State of Florida at the very least accuse the BAA of inadequate safety procedures or something like that?”

“Her father’s the one who went in the cage. Thank God it wasn’t that the beast got out. She’s still adamant that the tiger was only doing what came naturally. She told the police that the cat should not be punished, not be put down, and she wanted to be there to watch when it regains consciousness. But about your question—yes. The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission and even the US Department of Agriculture might get involved, but for a private, small zoo—not sure. There’s Jace’s car. I’ll go snag him.”

Nick got out and hurried over to where Jace parked. Claire had to admit, despite trying to keep it together in front of Nick and the police, that she felt emotionally drained and exhausted. Feeling revved up could actually slow her responses, and her narcolepsy was kicking in to make her want to sleep on her feet. In the chaos, she hadn’t taken her herbal stimulant, Country Mallow, on time either. It was at home with her other herbals, which is where they should have been by now. Timing was the problem with herbs, at least hers, so maybe she needed to start carrying a thermos of two kinds of herbal tea around with her.

At least talking on her cell earlier to Lexi and Darcy had calmed her some. Her sister still had Duncan because his mother had not yet been back from her job. Darcy said they had decided not to tell the children what had happened, only that there had been an accident, but Claire figured Darcy was waiting for big sis psych major to explain. And in case they heard about it elsewhere, it was going to be best to tell them the truth.

Claire watched Nick flag down Jace as he parked. She got out and walked over one lane and several spaces toward them as the men walked toward the gate. They evidently didn’t see her.

The only two men she had ever loved seemed so different from each other. Nick was dark-haired with silvering at his temples and gray eyes—her brilliant silver fox. He was several inches taller than Jace, who was more muscular. At age forty, Nick had a sexy, deep voice and tightly coiled but smoothly controlled body and demeanor. He was a deep thinker, with deeper emotions, who had helped many people—mostly without fanfare. Jace was thirty-four, blond with a broad face and blue eyes, still navy-short hair, sharp movements, a modern day Viking with a swashbuckling aura. His feelings were usually all on the surface and sometimes likely to explode.

“What’s with the crowd?” Claire heard Jace ask Nick. “Can’t they leave a tragedy alone? It’s worse than rubbernecking at a car wreck. I—I really liked Ben. Hell of a thing.”

Claire could tell even from this distance that Jace’s face looked ravaged, as if he’d been crying or trying not to. His body language showed he was not only tense but angry.

As she joined the men, she saw Jace study her also, narrow-eyed as he always did, a quick check of her belly. Awkwardly, at first, instead of looking at each other, the three of them turned to look at the people milling around by that entry gate. Their chants swelled, and some held signs picturing lions, tigers and the Florida panther. The original ragtag bunch must be getting more organized.

“Save big cats! Don’t be rats!” they recited over and over. And, once in a while from another group, “Keep the wild in wildlife!” Claire wondered if those people could be from the Save Our Wildlife group Darcy had recently joined, but no time to think about that now.

“Lexi’s all right?” Jace asked her, raising his voice over the noise.

“The kids are all safe,” she told him.

“Thank God. Gotta get to Brit. But why would her dad go into a tiger cage?”

“Good question,” Nick said. “I hope she or the BAA won’t need representation, but she’s asked for it, just in case. I didn’t want to get involved but I told her sure. If it gets sticky or drawn out, I can always assign a partner.”

“Good. I told her you could help.”

Jace extended his hand, and the two men shook. Despite some rough spots in the past, they’d worked together to live through worse than this. They had been on edge with each other at first, but they had saved each other’s lives since. What was that Chinese proverb, Claire thought, that if you saved someone’s life, you were somehow responsible for them?

“Be safe,” Jace said with a lift of a hand as if he were blessing them. But he turned back. “Does Lexi—the other kids—know what really happened?”

Claire shook her head. “I asked Darcy and Bronco to tell them there was an accident, but they don’t know details—not that anyone really does. I’m going to explain as best I can.”

“Tell Lexi that I—we—love her. Gotta help Brit,” he threw over his shoulder and jogged toward the crowd at the gate.

Nick took Claire’s arm, and they were starting toward their car when a sleek, black pickup truck pulled up to them. The door was emblazoned in gold with the words TROPHY RANCH, NAPLES, FLORIDA, HUNTER’S HEAVEN. A rugged-looking, handsome man with a mustache, wearing a Western hat, leaned out and called to them, “I’m the neighbor. Just heard what happened. Hope I can help. You’re Nick Markwood, right? We’ve met before.”

“Right. I recognize you, Stan Helter,” Nick said and reached toward the driver’s window to shake hands. “Nothing to do now, I think, unless you can get rid of this crowd—or want to be interviewed by the media.”

“Even for free publicity, hell no. Don’t need our future guests getting gun-shy over an animal killing a man. Big ex-marine shoulda had a gun on him. As for the crowd, coupla blasts with a hunting rifle in the air might clear them out.”

Claire figured that was his idea of humor, but she wasn’t so sure when she saw he had a gun rack mounted in the back cab window, one obviously not for show since it bristled with rifles, some with big scopes attached.

“They gonna keep the killer cat alive?” Helter asked Nick.

“It wasn’t really theirs. A refugee, kind of a ward of the state they took from some old woman who couldn’t keep it and shouldn’t have had it. Its BAA keeper insists the killing was instinct, not intent.”

“Brittany Hoffman, you mean, the beast-loving blonde. But they’re sly and crafty—big cats. Hope I can help the Hoffmans later somehow. Listen, Markwood, come visit us someday, almost always something doing. Bring our mutual friend Manfort with you. See you, Counselor. Ma’am,” he said, giving Claire a good once-over before he drove off.

“Someone who works at the Trophy Ranch?” Claire asked as they headed toward their car again.

“Its mastermind and owner. That place is big business. I met him once at a Save the Glades charity event. A friend of mine from way back, Grant Manfort, introduced us. I think Grant’s a shareholder in the Trophy Ranch.”

“But they shoot big game there, don’t they? Those ‘save big cats’ protestors should go picket his spread. And he asked what they were going to do with the tiger as if he’d like to get his hands on it.”

“I think they hunt everything there from gators and wild boars to who knows what else.”

“I noticed—maybe he did too—that you didn’t introduce me.”

“Not the type of guy you’d like to know. Grant says he’s savvy, but a rough character and a real womanizer.” He opened the car door for her, and she got in. “Sweetheart, let’s just go get Lexi before either of us starts cooking up suspicions or strategies about Ben’s death. Besides, you look like you need your meds before a bad dream hits.”

“This is already a bad dream. Yes, let’s go try to tell the kids a version of what happened before we go home.”

* * *

Inside the tight quarters of the BAA administration trailer, Jace held Brit close. He’d had to talk his way in through the cop at the gate. Brit had said her mother was heavily sedated and lying down in the back room, just staring at the ceiling. Brit hugged him back hard, but he was amazed she didn’t cry. Tough cookie. Or else she was in shock, like her mother. He knew damn well from combat experiences that horror sometimes took a while to be real, let alone to heal.

“The tiger had already mauled him and bitten through his carotid artery,” she said against his shoulder. “There was blood, blood, blood all over. Jace, just when the tiger was bringing more people in, and our family was getting on better. Wait until Lane hears. He’ll go ballistic. He hated the idea of the BAA.”

“Yeah, you got a brother who’s a far cry from the rest of you. But back to what happened here,” he said with a sniff as he pictured an apparently healthy, happy Ben having a beer with him just last week. Had he known the guy at all? Had he liked him too much too fast? Damn, but he regretted their recent argument. Trying to keep his voice steady, he asked, “Did Ben go in to feed Tiberia?”

“He was going to feed him since I was with the kids, including Lexi, but he knew better than to go into the cage for that—for anything, especially at feeding time. He knew just to shove the food through the hatch and then push it in closer only with the long gaff pole. The food box was not in the cage—but he was.” Her voice broke again.

“Maybe he just stepped inside because he thought the animal was secure in that holding area—what you called the bedroom, separate behind the cage. Maybe Tiberia was hiding in that little cave you made so he could get out of the sun, and then—”

“Jace, I’ve been over it all with an officer, then a detective with Nick Markwood there!”

“Sure. Sure,” he said, kissing the top of her head through her wild hair, then pressed his lips there. “Just a mystery, then, one we may never have the answer to.”

“He hadn’t been himself lately. Kind of depressed and inwardly angry—more than usual, that is. That scares me.”

“You mean that he might have been secretly sui—”

“I don’t know. I don’t know! Now I have to decide whether to admit Mother to the hospital where they can keep an eye on her or whether I can take her home.”

She suddenly exploded in sobs. He held her as tightly as he could, sat down in the swivel desk chair and pulled her onto his lap. If only Claire had been like this when they were married, telling him everything, trusting him, clinging even.

* * *

Claire, Nick and Darcy sat the four children down in Darcy’s living room. Lexi perched on a leather hassock between Nick’s legs. Duncan was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Darcy’s son, Drew, and Jilly leaned against her mother’s shoulder on the couch. Still fighting exhaustion, Claire sat in a chair, facing everyone.

In her steadiest voice, feeling a bit better since Darcy had brewed tea for her, even if it didn’t have her herbals, she began, “I know you are all wondering about the accident at the BAA today.”

“It was a loud scream and scary,” Jilly said.

“It was real bad,” Duncan added. “Like someone getting beat up and real hurt.”

“Okay, that’s all true,” Claire put in, feeling it wouldn’t take much for this to “go over Niagara” as her father used to say. “Remember that Brittany, the tiger talker, told us that tigers are wild animals. When they live in the wild, they have to kill to get meat to eat.”

Nick nodded in encouragement, and Darcy bit her lower lip. Claire still didn’t know how she would have survived her own childhood without her younger sister, when their father took off for parts unknown and their mother became such a recluse, escaping reality through books. Sad that the two men Claire had cared for had father issues too. And what was the truth about Ben Hoffman’s relationship to his daughter and son—even to Jace?

“Well, Mr. Hoffman, Brittany’s father,” Claire went on, struggling for words, “the man we met in the parking lot, made a mistake when he went to feed the tiger its meat. Somehow he didn’t know Tiberia was in its cage and he walked inside, and the animal thought it was still in the wild, and he hurt Mr. Hoffman. Sadly, he died.”

Drew asked, “You mean the tiger or Mr. Hoffman?”

“It was a terrible accident, but Mr. Hoffman died.”

Lexi said, “Then isn’t the tiger a murderer, not just a hungry big cat?”

Claire tried to keep her voice steady. “But you know that’s how animals are. They aren’t like people, who decide whether they will hurt or kill someone. Animals don’t know right from wrong like people do.”

“Bronco sometimes kills gators and those big snakes that are out in the Glades,” Lexi said. “Is he a murderer? And do you mean that Tiberia ate Mr. Hoffman—like—like—for dinner?”

“My dad hurt and killed someone,” Duncan said, “and that’s why he ran away, but the tiger’s in a cage and can’t go anywhere.”

Questions, protests followed, some rational, some off the wall. Lexi and Jilly cried. Claire and Nick, Darcy too, tried to calmly, carefully explain animal instinct and carnivorous vs. herbivorous to the children. Though she’d thought she could handle this, Claire scolded herself. She could have done better actually testifying before a hostile lawyer in court right now.

Besides, in the middle of this terrible day, Claire remembered that last week she and Nick had invited their friends and South Shore team members Heck and Gina, Bronco and Nita for dinner in—she glanced at her watch—three hours. At least the women were bringing dishes to go with salmon steaks on the grill. She bet, with all this going on, Nick had forgotten too.

But despite it all, she refused to cancel the dinner because it was going to be a big night for Bronco, and he had wanted those closest to him there. He was planning to announce his engagement to Nita after he proposed to her out by their pool, under the gazebo he had built for them. No going back to reschedule, since Bronco had picked this date because it was also Nita’s birthday and, he’d said, there would be a full moon tonight.

Full moon. Perfect! Wasn’t that when people supposedly went crazy?

5

“Welcome,” Claire told Bronco and Nita as they came in the front door. “So glad to see you under much better circumstances.”

Bronco nodded. Nita carried a basket with a salad. Little did she know that she’d be going home this evening with a diamond ring. Surely she’d accept Bronco’s proposal. All they needed was more upheaval of any kind today.

Bronco and Nita had fallen in love when they’d first worked for Claire and Nick. They had known Bronco longer, ever since the first South Shores “murdercide” case they had worked together. They had hired Nita as Lexi’s nanny when their family was endangered, so they had been blessed to have both Bronco and Nita as aides and friends.

Bronco was a big, burly guy with the proverbial heart of gold, one who used to make his living hunting gators and the huge constrictor snakes that bred in the depths of the Everglades and, like other animals, were encroaching on civilization. Nita was a young widow, a pretty Hispanic woman who was cousin to another of Nick’s employees, his tech guru Hector Munoz, called Heck, who was just getting out of his car in the driveway with his girlfriend, Gina.

Bronco was telling them, “Nita said we should cancel since we all been through too much today—’course, next to the Hoffman family, it’s nothing. But it’s her birthday, and we can be happy as well as sad.”

Nick took Nita’s basket while Claire and Nita hugged. “I agree,” Claire told them. “I think friends need each other at times like these.”

Bronco looked so nervous. She hoped that was from planning to propose, not from the terror earlier today. Much too up close and personal, she’d seen Bronco snap under pressure once, and she didn’t wish that on Nita or herself again.

Nick took their guests to the great room, where Claire had laid out appetizers and wine on the big glass coffee table surrounded by the grouping of leather sofas. Lexi was still up, but she’d agreed Nita could put her to bed tonight, “just like the old days,” as if the almost-five-year-old were ancient.

Claire held the door open as Gina and Heck came in, Gina with the coconut cake she’d made for Nita’s birthday. More greetings and hugs all around. Both Heck and Gina were of Cuban heritage and looked great together, though Heck had been in the States much longer. Sadly, he was more in love with Gina than she was with him, but Claire prayed things would work out for them.

They didn’t know about Bronco’s surprise for Nita tonight, so maybe that would spur on Heck and Gina, Claire thought, though Gina was starting med school in Miami in January. Both Nick and Heck were helping to finance that. Gina was living with a friend of theirs who had recently moved to South Florida from Michigan, Liz Collister, and Liz’s elderly father who had Alzheimer’s. Gina helped to tend him in exchange for living there until she left for med school.

Claire kept an eye on her baking scalloped potatoes, which Lexi had helped her fix after they both took a nap earlier. It hadn’t really refreshed Claire because she kept seeing the cage, the tiger—all that blood. So how must it be for poor Brittany? At least, like she had Darcy, Brittany would have her brother’s support soon.

Claire steadied herself with her hands on the granite counter of the kitchen island before joining the others just in time to kiss Lexi good-night as she disappeared with Nita down the hall to get tucked in—after being promised that they’d save a big piece of birthday cake for her.

Claire sat on the sofa next to Nick and picked up a glass of sparkling water, forgoing the wine.

“Bad day to have someone lose his life when I’m just starting a new one,” Bronco said, digging into the taco chips and spinach dip. Although Nita had left the room, he kept his voice low.

Gina, bright as ever, tossing her long, black hair, picked up on that. “Are you two going to make a big announcement?” she asked, lifting her wineglass as if in a toast.

“Hope so, but don’t you let on,” Bronco warned. “Got the ring here,” he said, patting his jacket pocket. “After dinner. In the gazebo.”

“She’ll say yes,” Gina said. “You’re her perfect catch.”

Heck said, “Like a fish or one of those denizens of the Glades he catches?”

Before Heck could make things more tense as he always seemed to lately, Claire put in, “Like a good man is hard to find, and Bronco’s a good find.”

“Sure. That’s what I meant, right, boss?” Heck asked Nick. “So you gonna end up taking this BAA case, if it comes to charges?”

“I don’t think it will, not serious ones anyway. I was just on scene—sadly—so I wanted to help out if I could. I can’t imagine a case against the family. I think Ben Hoffman must have somehow been distracted and made a big mistake—a fatal one.”

“Or,” Gina added, “it might have been an intentional one, suicide, but I can sure think of better ways to die.”

“Don’t say that,” Heck said, reaching out to take her wrist. “I’m just glad things are improving for us, after we’ve all been through hell and back. I’m sure Nita and Bronco’s future plans will only make things happier.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Nick said, leaning forward and lifting his glass.

Nita came back to join them and sat on the end of the sofa next to Claire near Bronco’s chair. “I can’t wait until your baby comes and I am back to help you with both Lexi and baby too. So hard to wait for good things you want. And yet I’m so very sad for the Hoffmans, as they are in mourning. I—I understand that.”

Nick said, “You’re right, Nita. It’s a shock when the world shifts so suddenly, terrific or terrible, but tonight, we’ll focus on the terrific. Agreed? Here’s to your birthday, the future Markwood baby and whatever else great comes along.”

The clink of glassware was the only sound for a moment, as the six of them toasted quietly, each, Claire assumed, with his or her own thoughts of love and loss. She sent up a silent prayer that Ann, Brittany and her brother, Lane, would get through their family tragedy together, as well as the setback for the animal sanctuary.

You never quite knew what was coming next in life, she admitted to herself, even if you thought you had things all planned out. Nita, whose first husband had died young in a fall from a roof, had no idea she would have the opportunity to start a new phase of her life tonight. Claire had never fathomed she’d marry Nick when she’d testified as an expert witness against one of his clients. Meanwhile, the little things in life went on as well as the big ones.

A strange, yet shared, moment of silence followed before real life set in again. Claire got up to be sure the salmon steaks were marinated enough, with Nita and Gina coming into the kitchen behind her while the men went out onto the patio to tend to the burning coals in the barbecue pit.

* * *

Exhausted, Brit had fallen asleep on Jace’s lap. His arms ached from holding her, but he sat still in the desk chair, listening to muted animal sounds outside. Brit had said the detective had questioned Jackson, who was like an overseer around here, then let him go back to tending the BAA denizens, so at least someone else was on the property besides the one keeper from the Naples Zoo who had stayed behind to keep an eye on Tiberia. The tiger was still lethargic from being drugged.

To Jace, this kind of felt like being in the jungle, not that he’d ever been. He longed to get up and turn on more lights, to get Brit and her mother out of here, take them home. But they were waiting for Brit’s brother to arrive after being told of the tragedy. Brit had talked to Lane’s wife who said he’d be here soon.

And Jace was aching with an almost physical pain over his friend’s tragic and weird death. He felt a sudden kinship to Jackson, the ubiquitous guy who oversaw the place, since he’d known Ben much longer. Jace wanted to sit and commiserate with him sometime. Misery in losing a good friend could love company.

Ben’s death just didn’t fit with the man he knew, the man who had befriended him and thought enough of him that he’d introduced him to his daughter and encouraged their romance. Ben was long retired from what he’d done in the marine corps, but he was mentally sharp and physically well trained and basically still in shape.

Jace admired that Ben had been in an elite section of the service, spent time on the Fleet Anti-terrorism Security Team, known as FAST. He’d been part of a fast-deployment team, armed and combat trained, ready to be sent around the world if there were threats. Ben had served in Panama in 1989 and in Desert Storm before he retired. And the guy had been so proud of his banner in the den at their house that read MARINE GRUNT: NO BETTER FRIEND, NO WORSE ENEMY. For sure, in the few months he’d known Ben Hoffman, despite one big upheaval, the man had been no better friend. And a guy who was fit and had served in a FAST unit—why in hell hadn’t he gotten fast out of that cage and why had he gone in there in the first place?

Jace, still holding Brit, blinked back tears, then wiped them away with one hand when he finally heard fast footsteps, then feet on the metal treads to the trailer. The door burst open, and Brit’s older brother Lane stood there, in shirt and tuxedo slacks but no jacket. It was a shock to see someone so dressed up here—a loosened bow tie and long-sleeved white shirt with cufflinks, no less. It was strange that Lane didn’t resemble his parents or his sister. He was blond but long-faced with a thin nose, but that all kind of went with his artistic look.

Brit came instantly awake and got groggily to her feet. Jace stood too, steadying her as he leaned against the desk and she went around it. He expected the two of them to hug, but they stopped ten feet apart.

Brit said, “I can’t believe it took you so long to get here.”