Zoe Donovan Mystery: Haunted Hamlet Part 10

I looked at Zak with pity. "Not even when you were little?"

"My parents didn't really go in for the whole play thing. Our family outings tended to be educational in nature. We'd go to museums or lectures at the university."

I scrunched my face in disgust. "You never even went to the carnivals they held when you were in elementary school?"

"Nope. I went to a private school until Mom and I moved here when I was in the seventh grade, and by that time I was really too old for kiddie carnivals."

"Come on." I grabbed Zak's hand and led him toward the dart toss. "You have to play at least one game. It's not natural to go your whole life without ever throwing a dart at a balloon."

I thought Zak might argue that he was too old for the kiddie games, but he just smiled as I led him across the room. Of course, he was way overqualified, so he won one of the big stuffed animals in no time, but Zak being Zak, he handed Willa a couple of large bills as a donation to the cause and then gave the stuffed giraffe to a little girl who had been trying to win her own toy the entire time we'd been there. Based on the adoration in her eyes when Zak handed her the giraffe, I was pretty sure the six-year-old had a new love in her life.

"That was fun," Zak announced as we walked toward the park where the pumpkin-carving compet.i.tion was taking place. "When we have kids we'll be sure to take them to every carnival within a fifty-mile radius."

"It looks like a good turnout for the big event." I decided to ignore Zak's comment about our kids as we made our way through the crowd. Not that I didn't want kids someday, but to be honest, thinking about them made my hands sweat.

"How many entrants do we have this year?" Zak asked.

"I'm not sure. Let's head over to find out."

In Ashton Falls, we take our pumpkin carving seriously. Not only is each creation judged on its merit within the category in which it's entered, but overall size and presentation are taken into consideration as well. The self-t.i.tled "king" of pumpkin carving in town is Gunnar Rivers, one of the twin brothers who work for me at the Zoo covering the night shift. Gunnar has won Best Pumpkin Overall the last three years in a row, and six of the past ten.

Gunnar's brother, Tank, is a close contender. I believe it's the rivalry between the two that fuels the long hours they put into choosing the perfect design and carving every detail until it's just right. I'm fond of both brothers and have shown my support for both of their efforts, but secretly, I hope Tank wins this year because I understand the pain of coming in second year after year, no matter how hard you try.

Long tables had been set up around the gazebo in the park. Each contestant was a.s.signed a table where he or she was allowed a half hour before the compet.i.tion to set up. The actual carving of the entry was timed, but I knew after watching both Gunnar and Tank prepare that they'd carved many practice pumpkins with the design they'd selected in advance.

The entries were usually intricate carvings that in no way resembled the jack-o'-lanterns with three triangles and a crooked mouth that are my specialty. After the contest, the artful gourds are displayed on tables that had been set up inside the gazebo. In addition to the official ranking set by the judges, spectators were given the opportunity to vote for their favorite, and a people's choice ribbon was presented at the end of the day. In my experience, the winning of this particular ribbon tended to be more of a popularity contest than a contest of skill.

"It looks like there are twelve people entered," I commented as I counted the number of pumpkins that were set out, waiting to be carved.

"Looks like a compet.i.tive pool."

"Gunnar is pretty certain he'll win, but I wouldn't mind seeing someone else. I know he's been practicing; he'll be hard to beat."

"How come you don't do a pumpkin?" Zak asked.

I shrugged. "Too busy. Maybe you should enter next year."

"Maybe I will."

I looked around the crowd to see if I could catch a glimpse of Ellie or Levi, both of whom should have been in the area. I didn't see either of my friends, but I did spot someone else.

"There's the man I saw talking to Paul this morning. I'm going to go over and start up a conversation with him."

"Remind me why you want to talk to him?" Zak asked.

"I'm not sure; I just know that my Zodar went off this morning when I saw him. I really don't know why, but I figure it can't hurt to head over and say hi."

"Okay, let's go." Zak took my hand and led me across the park.

I tried to figure out whether I knew the man from somewhere. He seemed familiar, and yet he didn't. He could just be a visitor I'd come across in pa.s.sing, but somehow I didn't think so. There was this nagging memory in the back of my mind that couldn't quite make its way to the surface.

"I'm sorry; do I know you?" I began after approaching the man.

Zak looked at me and rolled his eyes. Okay, so I'm not really all that proficient at starting conversations.

"My girlfriend, Zoe, saw you at the zombie run this morning and thought she recognized you from somewhere," Zak added.

"I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you." The man smiled. "My name is Drake Bollington."

Drake Bollington was the name of one of the counselors who had been at the Henderson house party.

"Actually, when I saw you this morning, I thought you seemed familiar, but now I realize I must have just recognized you from your photo."

"Photo?" the man asked.

"I have a friend who has a photo of the counselors who were employed at the summer camp he worked at one year. When you mentioned your name, I put two and two together. You worked at that camp the year all those people died," I continued. "I guess you heard that Adam Davenport was also back in town. Or at least he was."

Drake's face became guarded. "I heard Adam was in the area. I guess he had an accident."

"He was murdered."

I watched the man's face. He didn't get defensive at my bold statement, but he didn't seem surprised either.

"I know we just met, but I was wondering if you would mind filling me in on some of the details of the night in question."

The man glared at me. He appeared to check me out before answering. Not that I blamed him; my delivery was just a tad awkward.

"Why are you interested in finding out about that night?" he asked. "You a cop?"

I shook my head. "No, just an interested party. I've been doing some research into the events of that evening. Talking to people; that sort of thing. I guess uncovering mysteries is sort of a hobby of mine."

"I don't know you, so to be honest, I'm not all that comfortable having this conversation. I'm sorry, but I really have to go."

"My name is Zoe Donovan," I added as the man turned to leave. "Ask Paul about me, if that would make you feel more comfortable. I work at the Zoo, an animal rehabilitation shelter in town. Call me there anytime. If I'm not on the premises, one of my employees will be able to tell you how to get hold of me. And I'm really not a cop. Like I said, I'm just an interested party."

The man frowned and walked away.

"I think you might need to work on your interrogation skills," Zak commented.

I shrugged. "I accomplished what I intended. I found out who he is, gave him something to think about, and told him how to get hold of me. He'll call."

"You seem certain about that."

"I am. He's as curious about what I know as I am about what he knows. If he's involved in what happened at the Henderson house, he'll want to know what I know. He just needs some time to think it through. He'll call when he's ready."

Chapter 10.

Monday, October 27

I decided to head to the Zoo early on Monday morning. Between the Haunted Hamlet the previous weekend and the murder investigation, I was behind on my paperwork. I knew that Jeremy would take up the slack if I asked him, but I really love my job and have missed spending time with the animals I've vowed to serve.

Of the eight kittens we'd acquired the previous week, six had been adopted. I decided to let the two that were still with us have some extra people time, so I took them out of their cage to play on the floor of my office while I sorted through the pile of mail I'd acquired over the past few days. I hoped the kittens would find homes sooner rather than later. They were fuzzy and pure black, with huge blue eyes and the sweetest personalities, and they were working their way into my heart. If too much more time went by, I'd probably end up bringing them home, and even I knew that the last thing I needed were more pets.

I tossed a fuzzy toy mouse onto the floor and watched as the boys bravely attacked it. They really were adorable. Returning my attention to the pile of mail in front of me, I noticed that I had a pink slip from Mr. Hanover, letting me know that he had stopped in the previous Friday with a certified letter he needed me to sign for. It was most likely the operating contract the county had insisted on modifying, in spite of the fact that the old contract was perfectly fine. The slip said he'd attempt to deliver the envelope again today, and if I was still unavailable, I'd need to pick up the letter from the post office.

Mr. Hanover usually came by first thing in the morning, so it was likely I'd be on site when he arrived.

"You're here early," Tiffany greeted me as she walked into my office from the front of the building.

I motioned to the mess on my desk. "I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so I decided to get an early start."

"Did Tank leave already?" Tiffany asked.

"Yeah. I told him he could go ahead and take off since I was here. He was pretty excited about winning the pumpkin-carving compet.i.tion yesterday. Talk about a good mood. He was still walking on air."

Tiffany laughed. "Yeah, well, just wait until Gunnar shows up tonight. I have a feeling we'll be exposed to a different mood entirely."

"It's too bad for our sake they both couldn't win." I smiled.

"It would make life easier. I see you've freed Trick and Treat from their cages."

"Trick and Treat?" I asked as I looked toward the kittens who were both sitting on the windowsill, looking out.

"It seemed appropriate. It is Halloween, and they are black cats."

"Yeah, I guess Trick and Treat are appropriate names. Which is which?"

Tiffany shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I figure whoever adopts them will give them new names anyway. Although I do hope the little guys get adopted together. They're from the same litter and really seem to have bonded."

"Let me think about it. Maybe I can come up with someone to take them both."

"I can't have animals in my apartment or I'd take them myself. As soon as I can afford to, I'm going to move to a building that allows pets."

"Be careful or you'll end up with a house full like me."

Tiffany laughed. "You're probably right. I guess I'll head back and start exercising the dogs."

I returned to my paperwork as Trick and Treat continued to romp around the room. If I was going to find someone to take the brothers, I was going to need to find someone who enjoyed the high energy two kittens created when allowed to play together. One kitten would more often than not spend a good part of the day sleeping, but two . . . two could be a fun and delightful handful.

Zak had taken both dogs for a run that morning but planned to bring Charlie and Bella with him when he came by later in the day to work on the new pens we were building. It seemed as if new pen construction was an ongoing event; our facility was becoming well known as the place to take wildlife in need of rehabilitation or temporary housing. The bear cubs we had been nurturing for almost a year were ready to be released into the dens we'd picked out for them. Hopefully they'd settle in and hibernate before the heavy snow arrived in a month or so.

"Mr. Hanover is here to see you." Jeremy poked his head in the doorway shortly after Tiffany had left.

"I'll be right out."

I set the stack of mail I was holding down on my desk and stood up. I made sure the kittens were content and safely napping before I snuck out of the room, closing the door behind me. I would only be a few minutes, but I certainly didn't want them to escape. The last thing we needed was Halloween kittens terrorizing the building.

"Mr. Hanover," I greeted as I walked into the reception area. "It's so nice to see you. You have a letter for me?"

"I do, but you'll need ID and a signature to get it."

"You've known me since I was a kid," I pointed out.

"Rules are rules, and the rules say that I need to see some ID."

"My purse is in my office. If you can wait just a minute, I'll get it."

"I can come back to your office. I wouldn't mind sittin' for a spell while we complete our business. My old legs don't get around as well as they used to."

"I'd be happy to have you take your break in my office, but I have to warn you that I have kittens in there. Two of them. Lively little guys who might see fit to attack your feet while you walk or pounce on your head while you sit."

Mr. Hanover smiled. "I love kittens. My Genevieve pa.s.sed a while back, and I've missed having a cat to come home to."

"Okay, great. Come on back. Can I get you some coffee?"

"That would be nice."

I escorted Mr. Hanover into my office before heading back to the lounge to pour him some coffee. I'd been hesitant to introduce him to the boys, who could be rather rambunctious when they weren't peacefully sleeping, but by the time I returned, he had both kittens sitting on his lap, purring away like the little angels I knew they weren't.

"I sure do miss having a cat on my lap," Mr. Hanover said again. "I don't suppose the boys are still available?"

I hesitated. "They are, but we wanted to try to adopt them together, if possible."

"I'd be willing to take them both," Mr. Hanover offered.

"Really? I know they seem all sweet and angelic at the moment, but they can be a handful. Once they get to chasing each other around the room, it's a total free-for-all."

Mr. Hanover picked up one of the kittens and looked him in the eye. "You gonna give me any trouble?"

The kitten batted at Mr. Hanover's long nose with his paw.

"I think the boys and I will be fine. If they're available, that is. I'm being forced to retire, even though I have a good ten years left in me. I could use the company."

"Okay, then," I said. "We'll arrange for a trial adoption. If you find they're too much for you, we'll happily take them back. If they work out okay, we can complete the paperwork in a week or two. You'll want to have them neutered. I'll make the arrangements when you're ready."

Mr. Hanover smiled. "That's wonderful. I guess I was able to pull a little magic out of my last day on the job."