“You can get a good massage right here in town, if you’re interested.”

She glanced back at Coop, and for the first time a little light gleamed in her eyes. “Really?”

“I can book you one, if you’re interested. Maybe for five o’clock?”

“You can do that?”

“Happy to.”

“Five o’clock massage. I don’t suppose I could get a hot stone?”

“Sure. Fifty or eighty minutes?”

“Eighty. My day just got a lot better. Thank you, Mr. Sullivan.”

“My pleasure, ma’am. You have a nice ride.”

He went in, booked the massage, wrote up the particulars. The business would get a referral fee, which didn’t hurt. Then he shifted gears and went back to Lil’s file.

He started a new run on the women. He leaned toward a man in this case, but he knew better than to discount the female. He hadn’t gotten a good enough look that early morning to be absolutely certain. In any case, a woman might be the connection.

He worked his way through the ginger ale and half the ham sandwich his grandmother had packed him. He couldn’t stop her from packing his lunch, and had to admit he didn’t try very hard.

It was nice to have someone who’d take the time, take the trouble.

Marriages, divorces, kids, degrees. One of the earlier interns in the program now lived in Nairobi, another was a vet specializing in exotic animals in L.A.

And another, he noted as his instincts hummed, had vanished.

Carolyn Lee Roderick, age twenty-three, missing for eight months and a handful of days. Last seen in Denali National Park, where she’d been doing fieldwork.

He followed the hum and dug out what he could on Carolyn Roderick.

***

AT THE REFUGE, Lil shook hands with Brad Dromburg, the owner of Safe and Secure. He was a beanpole of a man, obviously comfortable in his Levi’s and Rockports, with a close-cropped head of dark blond hair and green eyes. He had an easy smile, a firm hand, and a voice with just a hint of Brooklyn.

“I appreciate you coming all this way, and so quickly.”

“Coop tugged the line. Is he around?”

“No. I-”

“He said he’d try to make it by. Some place you’ve got here, Ms. Chance.” He stood, hands on his hips, studying the habitats, the compound. “Some place. How long have you been in operation?”

“Six years this May.”

He gestured over where some of her interns had set the poles for the new habitat. “Expanding?”

“We’re acquiring a melanistic jaguar.”

“Is that so? Coop said you’ve had a little trouble. Someone compromised one of the cages?”

“The tiger enclosure, yes.”

“That would be a little trouble, all right. Maybe you could walk me around, give me a feel for the place. And what you have in mind.”

He asked questions, made notes on a PDA, and showed no particular nerves when he walked up to the enclosures to study the doors, the locks.

“That’s a big boy there,” he said when Boris rolled over to stretch in front of his den.

“Yes. All four hundred and eighty-six pounds of him.”

“It took a lot of balls or stupidity to open that cage, middle of the night, gamble that big boy’s going to go after the bait and not the live meal.”

“It would, but the fresh kill would be more appealing. Boris was trapped, illegally from what I can dig up, when he was around a year old. He’s been in captivity ever since, and he’s used to the scent of human. He’s fed in the evening, to continue to stimulate the hunt by night instincts, but he’s used to being fed.”

“And he didn’t go far.”

“No, fortunately. He followed the blood trail to the bait and settled in for his unexpected predawn snack.”

“Takes some balls to come out here and shoot a mickey into him.”

“Necessity is often the mother of balls, so to speak.”

He smiled, stepped back. “I don’t mind saying I’m glad he’s in there and I’m out here. So that’s four gates, including the one for public access during operating hours. And a lot of open land.”

“I can’t fence off the entire property. Even if I could, it would be a logistical nightmare. There are trails running through the hills that cross this land, my father’s, others’. We’re posted private around the perimeter, and the gates tend to stop people. My priority is securing the compound, the habitats. I need to keep my animals safe, Mr. Dromburg, and keep everyone safe from my animals.”

“That’s Brad. I’ve got some ideas on that, and I’m going to work something up. One of the things I’m going to recommend are motion sensors set outside the enclosures. Far enough that the animals won’t set them off, but anyone approaching the enclosure would.”

She felt her budget wince in pain. “How many would I need?”

“I’ll figure that for you. You want more lights. Sensor goes off, alarm kicks on, lights flood this place. An intruder’s going to think twice about trying for a cage at that point. Then there’s the locks themselves, and that goes for your gates as well as your cages. Interesting situation,” he added. “Challenging.”

“And-sorry I have to be crass here-expensive.”

“I’m going to work out two or three systems I think would work for you, and I’ll give you an estimate on each. It’ll be a chunk of change, I won’t lie to you, but getting it at cost’s going to save you some serious moolah.”

“At cost? I’m confused.”

“It’s for Coop.”

“No, it’s for me.”

“Coop made the call. He wants this place wired up, we wire it up. At cost.”

“Brad, this place runs on donations, funding, charity, generosity. I’m not going to turn yours down, but why would you do all this and not make a profit?”

“I wouldn’t have a business if it wasn’t for Coop. He calls, it’s cost. And speak of the devil.” Brad’s face lit up as Coop started down the path toward them.

They didn’t shake hands. Instead they greeted each other with the one-armed, backslapping hug men favored. “I wanted to be here sooner, but I got hung up. How was the flight?”

“It’s a long one. Jesus, Coop, it’s good to see you.”