her way.
She promptly choked on her lemonade.
Mr. I’m-Not-A-Cop? Here? In a Katanga uniform?
He made his way through the drink line, looking every bit as delicious as he had at the airport, and took a seat at the back with a couple other employees. Dismay filled her as she tossed about possible scenarios for his presence. She didn’t like any of them. Nothing about this could be good. The implications were damning, along with the spike of heated anticipation just seeing him had inspired.
Jason waved a hand in front of her face. “Umm…see something you like?”
Miranda scowled and Letta chuckled. “If it’s the handsome one with the sandy-colored hair, he’s new here.”
“What’s his name?” Miranda asked.
“Matthew Bennett,” Letta answered. “He’s a janitor and has Katanga females all aflutter.”
“Aflutter?” Jason snorted. “Know what quickens a man’s heart? Good apple pie, that’s what. Add vanilla ice cream, and we get downright excited.”
Letta laughed at the joke, but Miranda kept staring at Matthew Bennett. Was he here on an investigation? Was Katanga in trouble? The thought inspired a tremor of alarm, both for the animals in residence and for her and Jason’s chances of returning home unscathed.
“Want an introduction?” Letta asked.
Miranda tore her uneasy gaze away and met Letta’s knowing one. She’d meet the man, all right, but on her terms. First she’d lay low and watch, work her own investigation. “Maybe later,” Miranda replied. “Work comes first.”
“And that’s exactly your problem,” Jason declared. “You really should shift focus once in a while.”
Her problem was she needed to get out of there before Bennett spotted her. She gathered up her tray. “Shall we get back at it? I’m anxious to look over microchip records of the cheetah in residence. I noticed inflamed gums when he growled at me earlier.”
Jason groaned. “Man, you never stop. There’s a saying. All work and no play…”
“Puts you at the top of your field.” Miranda finished his sentence, then gave him a sympathetic grin. “Let’s go.”
* * * *
Over the next two days Miranda either followed Matthew Bennett or avoided him. Inside and out, she spied on his every move. And he was good. He had everyone fooled with his cleverly disguised work ethic and friendly attitude. He washed windows, stocked supplies, emptied trash, even tidied up the grounds. No corner of Katanga was left untouched.
Yet his movements were precise, calculated, his eyes far too alert. More than once she’d had to beat a hasty retreat. The man constantly surveyed his surroundings and not because he was looking for a stray piece of trash.
What she didn’t understand was why no one else noticed the sharp watchfulness that belied his tousled devil-may-care appearance. Or the muscles that rippled under the shoulders of his too-tight uniform. Or the tan that clearly spelled time spent outdoors. She wasn’t deceived, but it seemed the whole of Katanga was smitten.
Especially Roz. The chimp trailed his heels like some love-starved waif. And she had far superior radar than Miranda when it came to tracking the bogus janitor. Find Roz and you found Matthew. She’d swear the monkey had a serious crush.
Miranda forced her attention back to the computer keyboard. Again.
Her follow-up exam of Estelle revealed a happier and healthier hippo. The pool had been refilled to a comfortable level, the infected incisor was healing nicely, and the lady suffered no ill effects from anesthesia. In fact, Estelle’s whole disposition had greatly improved.
Miranda noted the success of the procedure into the system. Another growl of her empty stomach had her glancing at her watch, and she sighed. She’d have to hurry. She needed lunch, but Jason and Letta expected her at the animal nutrition center by one o’clock.
She signed off and left the clinic, going instantly on alert. Truth be told, spying was a highly frustrating business. Despite keeping Matthew Bennett under near constant surveillance, she’d failed to discover any clandestine activity. No secret phone calls, no snooping in forbidden zones, no hint of improper behavior.
That maddening lack of evidence didn’t change her opinion of his motives, however. Clearly, he was up to something.
The sound of Roz’s monkey chatter caught her ear. For about a split second she debated against checking it out, but curiosity trumped hunger.
Scurrying forward into the noisy rotunda, she spotted Roz on the heels of the janitor and followed them into the Kalahari wing. A bank of elevators nestled in an alcove and they’d stopped to wait on a lift. Miranda flattened against the wall, then peered around the corner to see Matthew and Roz enter one of the elevators.
As soon as the door dinged shut she rushed over to watch the lighted numbers above the elevator. Two…three…stop. Personnel level.
She hit the stairs and raced up the zigzag staircase before pausing a few seconds at the third floor landing to catch her breath. Her heart pounded as she cracked open the door and peered into an empty hallway.
Silently she slipped out and made her way to the next bend where she spotted her target standing in front of Victor Keyes’s office. Matthew leaned in close to the door, his hands fiddling at the doorknob.
He was picking the lock.
She pulled back and smiled in wicked delight. That was called breaking and entering. Finally, something to nail him on.
A soft click sounded and she peeked again. He disappeared inside, Roz right behind him. She counted to ten, slowly, then headed for the opaque glass door. She leaned near, straining to hear any tell-tale sound.
Nothing stirred. Okay. Now what? Brazenly walk in behind them? Wait out here in the hall and surprise him on exit?
She opted for brazen. Spying was overrated anyhow.
Still reluctant to tip her hand too soon, she gently pushed open the door and tip-toed into an empty chamber, doing her best to make no sound as she closed the door behind her.
She faced the room. A polished mahogany secretary’s desk took up one corner, equally tasteful and elegant furniture filled the rest. Nice, but it was the open door in the back that caught her eye. Presumably Victor Keyes domain, and by the sound of Roz’s quiet snorts of delight, Miranda bet the chimp had her paws on soon-to-be-stolen loot.
A heady sense of anticipation tingled up Miranda’s spine. The novice was about to trump the spy. She could hardly wait to take Mr. I’m-Not-A-Cop by surprise.
Crossing the carpeted floor, she paused outside Keyes door, just long enough to take a deep breath of brazen. Satisfied, she shoved open the door and waltzed inside.
And two blinks later frowned in confusion. Where’d they go?
She stepped over to peer behind an executive desk big enough to classify as a dance floor. Nothing. She eliminated an entire wall of bookshelves, then settled her gaze on a set of closet-style doors.
Until a creak sounded behind her and she whirled around, coming face to face with her quarry. From behind the office door, two pair of eyes stared at her, one with suspicion and one with pure animal delight.
“My, my,” Matthew said. “We meet again.”
Trapped in a net of her own making, Miranda swallowed against rising nerves.
“Now that the riddle of my shadow is solved,” he continued, “mind telling me your name and exactly why you’re here?”
Chapter 7
Matt didn’t believe in coincidence. Life could throw you surprises, however, and the woman in front of him was definitely that. Her lethal camera