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“Maybe you can put on a couple of pounds. I’ve heard that Manhattan has one or two good restaurants. Take my daughter out and the check is on me. When are you going back?”
“Tuesday.”
Decker was taken aback. “You’re staying through the weekend?”
“Yeah, like I explained to Rina, I just want to unwind a little bit.”
Decker threw him a look, and Gabe blushed. “So when are you meeting her?”
“What?”
“Don’t snow me, kid. You’re a terrible liar.” Gabe was silent. Decker said, “Don’t do it, Gabriel. It’ll set you back. Just as important, it’ll set her back. And from a selfish point of view, I don’t want to have to deal with her parents again.”
“They won’t find out.”
“That’s what you said the last time. And stop clenching your teeth.”
Gabe tried to relax. “Are you going to rat me out?”
“I should, but I won’t.” The boy had curled into in a ball. “Gabe, you need to think of her welfare.”
“Peter, I swear we’re not gonna do anything.” A lie: Decker wasn’t buying it. “I barely had contact with her the past couple of years.” Another lie that didn’t wash. Finally Gabe threw up his hands. “What’s the big deal?”
“Gabriel, if her parents find out, she’s got a lot more to lose than you do.”
He ran his hand over his head. “For the record, she called me.”
“That’s irrelevant. You’re the one who has to say no.”
“I don’t want to say no. Why should I?”
“Because she’s smitten with you and can’t think straight.”
“I’m smitten with her.”
“I don’t doubt that, but guys function differently. You’re both way too young for commitment. Surely there are girls in New York that come with a lot less baggage.”
“Surely there are, but I’m not interested, okay?”
Decker smiled. “Must be true love.”
“Can we change the subject? How’s the tiger doing?”
“Funny you should ask. I’m going to visit her tomorrow at a wild animal sanctuary.”
“Cool. Can I come with you?”
Decker looked at him. “You want to come with me?”
“Sure. It sounds interesting. I love what I do, but occasionally it might be fun to venture outside.”
“Uh, it’s official business.”
“Okay. I understand.”
Decker shrugged. “I suppose you can tour around while I conduct my interviews.”
“That would be great! Who are you interviewing?”
“Can’t say. It’s part of an ongoing murder investigation.”
“Can I help?”
Decker held back a smile. “Uh, I think I’ve got it covered.”
“I’m sure you do.” Gabe laughed. “Thanks for letting me come. I promise I won’t get mauled by a lion.”
“Maybe you’d rather face a lion than face Yasmine’s father?”
“We’re back there again?”
“All I’m saying is we both could use a good steak dinner and everyone’s entitled to a last meal.”
“Nothing is going to happen!” Gabe said.
“Yeah, yeah, famous last words.” Decker parked the car in front of a kosher steak house. “Let’s go, Romeo.”
The two of them got out of the car. Gabe said, “Thanks for taking me out to dinner.”
“My pleasure.”
“And thanks also for being a cool guy.”
“I’m a cool guy?”
“Peter, you are the essence of coolness. If everyone was as cool as you are, we’d never have to worry about global warming.”
Sliding up the on-ramp of the 210, Decker followed the Foothill freeway for forty-plus miles until it hit Highway 15, a dividing line between Angeles Crest and the San Bernardino Mountains. The range, going north and south, cleaved Southern California into Pacific Ocean to the west and the Mojave Desert on the east, the lowest place in the United States at 282 feet below sea level.
The road climbed upward until the elevations were measured in thousands instead of hundreds. In the late fall, the dogwoods, maples, and oaks had lost their leaves, standing dormant and skeletal. But there was still plenty of green provided by the plethora of pines and cedars. The air was cold and crisp, the sky was overcast, and as the car scaled the heights, the road twisted and curled. A sprinkling of snow attempted to cover brown detritus of rotting leaves, pine needles, and animal scat.
It was slow going. Then the road forked into two unpaved lanes. The navigation system became unglued and Decker had to rely on directions and a two-year-old hiking map. The car bumped along a rutted strip at about ten per hour. After twenty minutes, he saw the weathered post topped by a makeshift sign: global earth sanctuary 3mi. An arrow pointed the way.
The temperature had dipped to the low forties, and Decker cranked up the heat. Assuming they’d be outside most of time, he had packed scarves and gloves and had given Gabe one of his bomber jackets. The length was okay, but being that he outweighed the kid by eighty pounds, the girth was way off.
Gabe had been listening to his iPhone most of the way. As they passed the sign to the sanctuary, he took out the earbuds and stared outside, rubbing his arms. “This is Southern California?”
“It’s a big state. You can get just about any climate you want except glaciers.”
“Sometimes … when I see unspoiled terrain like this … I just want to jump out and lose myself in nature. The problem is with my body weight and mountain man skills, I’d probably last about a day.”
“Did you ever go camping with your family?”
Gabe laughed. “Are you kidding me? Chris Donatti camping?”
“The man knows how to shoot.”
“Only two-legged prey. No, I grew up suburban, urban. How far is this place?”
“According to the directions, it’s three miles from the sign.”
“Thanks for taking me. Sorry if I’ve been bad company.”
Decker smiled. “You’re exactly the type of company I like. The quiet helps me think.”
“Yeah, you don’t even turn on the radio or anything. I couldn’t last more than ten minutes without something filling up my ears.”
“When it’s silent, your brain fills in the music,” Decker told him. “After all these years, I think I’ve finally learned how to listen.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence.
The lane finally dead-ended in a dirt lot that had been cleared for parking. There were several vehicles—a white van, a four-wheel drive, a Honda, and a golf cart that sat underneath a naked sycamore. The property held three trailers along with miles of chain-link fencing crisscrossing the trails. He and Gabe got out, the boy sticking his hands in his pockets. Decker adjusted his scarf. A bald, stoop-shouldered man came out of one of the trailers and walked over to a white chest refrigerator. He opened the lid and began to stuff plastic bags of meat in a leather pouch.
“Excuse me,” Decker said in a loud voice.
The man looked up. “Can I help you?”
Decker walked toward him so he wouldn’t have to shout. “I’m looking for Vignette Garrison.”
The man pointed at the trailer in the middle. “Her office is there, but I think she’s out with the animals.”
“Okay if we wait inside her office? Little chilly out here.”
“Fine with me, but you won’t find it too much warmer inside. All we have are floor heaters.” Despite the slumped posture, the man was tall with cornflower blue eyes and white stubble.
Decker said, “Do you work here full-time?”
“Volunteer. I make my money as an accountant. Used to be at this time of the year, I’d never see daylight. A heart attack later, I found myself thinking about things other than quarterly estimates. Too bad shoveling shit doesn’t pay as much as manipulating numbers.” He closed the flap on the pouch. “Mealtime for the kitty cats. Wanna come see what we have here?”
At that moment, Decker saw a woman with long hair in the distance walking toward them. She wore a knitted cap, a thick jacket, tight jeans, and hiking boots. “Is that Vignette Garrison?”
“Yep.”
“We have an appointment. Thanks for the invitation though.”
The accountant gave Decker a wave. “I’m off.”
Gabe said, “I’ll come with you. I’ve never seen lions and tigers up close.”
“Well, come along and enjoy the experience.” The man stuck out his hand. “Everett James.”
“Gabe Whitman.” He took hold of the man’s right wrist with both hands and gave him the musician’s handshake. “Thanks a lot, Mr. James.”
“You can call me Everett.” The man took out a set of keys. “This way.”
James opened the gate to go in just as Vignette was about to go out. They spoke for a few seconds, and when it was over, Vignette came jogging over.
Up close, she looked younger—late twenties or early thirties. Her hair was light brown streaked with blond and hung past her shoulders. Her complexion, even in the winter, was bronze in tone. Vignette’s eyes were round and dark, her nose was thin, and her lips were full and chapped. She rubbed her gloved hands.
She stuck out a hand. “Vignette Garrison.”
“How are you?” Decker took her hand. “Lieutenant Decker.”
“Golly, it’s cold. I’m wearing thermal socks and my feet still feel like two chunks of ice.”
“If you want to go inside, I won’t object,” Decker said.
“Not that it’s all that warm inside. But at least my feet can thaw out.”
He followed her up the three steps that led into the middle trailer. Inside, Decker saw a bank of metal file cabinets, four desks, and about a half dozen chairs. There was also a small kitchen with a refrigerator, a microwave, several hot plates, three space heaters, and a standing fan.
“Have a seat.” She pulled out a chair. Then she bent down and turned a knob on the space heater, then rolled it toward Decker. “This will help a little.”
“Is this battery operated?”
“Kerosene. We do have a generator out back. It runs the fridge.” She took off her gloves and hat. “Most of the animals are cold tolerant, but we always have backup heating just in case we have prolonged cold snaps. We also have our hot days. For the animals, we can control the heat by dumping ice in the water pools. We have a variety of animals that live in a variety of climates. What’s comfortable for savannah lions isn’t necessarily good for jungle tigers.”
“I’m sure it takes a lot of work to get it right.”
“You can say that again. People don’t realize that you just can’t dump animals in a single environment and expect them to get along let alone survive.” She sat down. “I’m glad you came to visit in the cold rather than the heat. You’ll see the cats at their best. The fur is magnificent. Is that your son who went off with Everett?”
“My foster son.”
She wrinkled her nose. “He looks a little old to be in foster care.”
“He’s been with us for a while. By now, we consider him a member of the family.”
“We’re not so different, then.”
“How’s that?”
“I adopt strays, you adopt strays. It shows a giving spirit … to take in something and nurture it back to health. I often think of Global Earth as one big foster home.”
“Well, I hope it runs more efficiently than county care.”
“Oh it does.” The joke was lost on her. She pulled off her boots and then placed her sock-covered feet atop the space heater. “Did you find out anything about the will?”
“I found out there is a will.”
