folded his arms and leaned back against the counter. “About two years.”
“So what’s your connection to Dr. Miller?”
“Joint grant. Collaboration on a big study.”
“Oh.” Anna frowned and walked into the room. “But he sent you here to check on us? Your study, I’m sure, has nothing to do with mine.”
Jack scratched at his stubble, realizing for the first time that he wasn’t looking his best. The disheveled wild man who intended to take her daughter. His daughter. Dr. Miller had warned him not to make waves. How was he supposed to tell her that her research funding was in jeopardy?
“Not directly, maybe. Same department, though, and Miller is concerned about the trust money donated specifically to your elephant research running out.”
“Running out? Why? We’ve always had consistent donors.”
Jack sighed. He couldn’t lie when that was the very thing she’d done to him. Omission was the same as lying.
“Miller’s trying to raise more funds for this new research, and he’s reached out to the same people who’ve donated before. However, many have been splitting their donations between causes.”
“You’re taking my funding.”
Her tone made Jack glance back at the snake in the jar, just to make sure it hadn’t escaped. On purpose.
“It wasn’t a question, Jack.”
“I’m not taking your funds. Miller’s the department head, not me, and we don’t dictate where contributors apply their donations. But it’s the way things are panning out, and he simply wants to make sure all his projects are working efficiently.”
“Spoken like a politically correct administrator. Are you researching, Jack, or getting sucked into admin? You know as well as I do what that means. If the grant’s not enough and Miller wants to put more effort and energy into raising funds for your joint project, he will. He’s been planning this awhile now, hasn’t he? How could a respected mentor shut down his old student’s—and I thought friend’s—research project, especially if it would look bad to animal advocates and behaviorists? But if those funds slowly dwindled, or got redirected, the fault wouldn’t be directly his. Or better yet, he sends you to—what? Report back on money misuse so I can get scapegoated?”
“Anna, no one is trying to make you a scapegoat. Dr. Miller thinks highly of you, and I’ve heard him brag about your findings on pachyderm family structure and the impact natural disasters and poaching have had on interherd breeding. Those findings have been important to our understanding of genetic resistance and mutations. But you’re not just doing research.” Jack waved a hand toward the orphanage area.
Anna’s eyes widened. “You can’t mean putting a stop to raising orphans. Miller approved that and understood. There aren’t that many, and keeping them gives us an opportunity to listen to them up close, get samples and tag, hear them communicating with each other. And when they’re old enough to be moved to one of the transitional reservation areas, we let them go, knowing they’ll eventually find a new herd. But they need us first.”
Like an adoptive family. They were essentially in foster care. Jack wondered if Anna was aware of the analogy, but her attention seemed fully focused on her elephants.
“And how much staff does raising these orphans require?”
“Staff? We’re at a minimum, and the keepers don’t even have private tents. They sleep on cots next to their assigned calf and rotate daily, so that no baby becomes too attached to one human. It prevents separation anxiety when they leave us, or if one of us isn’t around. We’re looking at necessity.”
“He’s looking at numbers, Anna. Expenses are the bottom line, and the number of calves has grown. He just wants to verify the reasons and the cost involved.”
“Verify?”
Bad word choice. Jack kept a straight face.
“Am I being accused of lying?” Anna asked. The corners of her full mouth sank a mere fraction of a second after she asked the question. Jack knew she’d realized the absurdity of her question. After all, she’d been lying to him. Defend that. He didn’t respond.
“Pippa has nothing to do with this. Miller knew I’d have a child with me at camp. And no, he doesn’t know you’re the father. At least, I’ve never told him,” she added before Jack could ask. “I pay all non-research-related expenses out of pocket. Her care, and Niara and Haki’s. Barely, but I do. I can prove it, too. So don’t even try to turn this on me, Jack. You’re here for one reason only. To make your career better, at the expense of mine. To take away everything that matters to me.”
CHAPTER THREE
ANNA MARCHED OUT of the clinic and winced at the stab of bright sunlight. She couldn’t look at him anymore. Couldn’t digest what he’d just revealed. He had the upper hand. If he wanted revenge for her not telling him about Pippa, all he had to do was pass a negative report on to Miller and whoever else was on the board overseeing funds. Jack could end everything she’d worked so hard to protect and preserve. Everything she’d sacrificed for.
“Wait a minute, Anna,” he said, following her out of the clinic tent. She kept walking.
“I’ll be back to show you what you came for. I need to go see the kids first.”
“I’m coming with you,” Jack said. This time Anna did turn around.
“No. You’re not.” She held up a hand to stop him from arguing. “Jack, I’m not as evil as you think I am. You’ll see her. We’ll both talk to her. Later. After she’s had her nap.”
“I think this trumps naptime.”
“Have you ever been around a four-year-old who’s missed naptime?” she asked.
“No, but—”
“Think rabid monkey,” she said, leaving Jack to contemplate how little he knew about parenting, and what he was getting himself into.
* * *
BY THE TIME Anna reached the quarters where she, Niara and the kids stayed, Niara had read the last sentence of their favorite book about a dancing hippo and his friends. Pippa and Haki were sound asleep on their cots. Niara set the book down and Anna helped her draw mosquito netting around them. Given the risk of malaria, everyone at camp took preventative meds and sprayed, but screens and netting helped, too. Especially with the kids. It was nothing more than routine for all of them, but it struck her as something that would stand out to Jack. Anna knew travel protocol and was pretty sure Jack had been given a prescription to take, just in case. But he hadn’t added it to his list of reasons why Pippa shouldn’t be here.
Not yet.
Give him a few hours, and Jack would have a trusty list brimming with more obvious camp dangers. Anna figured she could save some legal agony by making him a counterlist of dangers in the average American suburb, or even in their countryside. Getting kidnapped, bullied, or hit by a car, contracting bird flu, and plenty of others she could throw at him. She wouldn’t mention drugs, though. She wouldn’t stoop that low, but she’d prove how ignorant he was being. Prove Pippa didn’t need saving. Prove they’d only end up disrupting his career path, and he wouldn’t realize it until it was too late.
She bent down, moved the netting aside, kissed Pippa’s marshmallow-soft cheek and put the netting back.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Niara asked, keeping her voice to a whisper.
Anna pulled a wooden stool next to hers. “It’s him.” She sighed.
A moment passed in silence as they watched the children sleep.
“Oh, honey. All these years and you told me Pippa’s father didn’t care. That doesn’t look