Friday, August 7, 2009

Koala Killer Eighth Installment

She met Jorge coming out of the building.
He said, "Mari, here you are. I was just coming to find you. What's the matter dear, you look a little startled?"
"I don't know, Jorge. I'm jumpy, I guess. What's happening with the investigation? Is that Lt. Wilson around?"
"He was back just a little while ago. He had an order to go over the personnel files. But he's left again. Do you need to talk to him?"
"I don't think so, not right now, anyway. What have you found out about the koala?"
"That's the strangest thing. There's no evidence that there ever was a koala in the infirmary, or anywhere here, Mari. No one else has seen it."
Mari frowned at that, but said nothing.
"You know, of course, that even if we could afford one, we can't keep koalas in Pueblo Valley because of Valley Fever that we get here. Koalas are as susceptible to it as gorillas and chimpanzees are."
"I didn't know that."
And she didn't know what to think either. She might be imagining someone watching her, but she knew she saw a koala the night she found Stan.
"Could you have been mistaken, Mari? You were excited, upset."
"Absolutely not, Jorge, the koala was there as surely as Stan or the gibbon was."

Chapter 3
"Well, it's all bound to come out in the investigation, I suppose." Jorge said lamely.
She didn't get the strong impression that he believed her. And why should he? She told him she'd finished feeding the birds and would be in the giraffe area if he needed her.
It was almost sunset, the visitors had gone home, as well as the personnel that catered to them: gift shop, ticket booth, snack bar, and office staff. The animals and their evening keepers had the park to themselves. The mood relaxed. Most of the birds were singing their last songs of the day, settling in to rest. And some were coming alive, time for the nocturnal to take their turn.
She saw and felt the advancing storm, as rain-scented winds drove falling eucalyptus leaves against the pink horizon. Time for a little monsoon weather. If it rained it would help the fires in the dry canyons, but if the storm was electrical, the lightning could start more fires. Clouds were piling up over the Rimrock Mountains on the northeast horizon.
She was within sight of the giraffe enclosure when she decided to go back to her birds and do a little flood prevention around their enclosures. There was an established routine for it, which she had read but never done. It would be good practice. She had been with the zoo since last autumn, after monsoon season, and winter had been exceptionally dry.
As she was hurrying down the path she heard a park vehicle coming up behind her. It sounded like it was coming awfully fast. She turned quickly and realized she was about to be run over. She shifted her weight while still turning and fell backward, but it was too late. Her right leg caught in the vehicle somehow and the world went black.