The maid left, and a moment later, Thor reappeared: a staff that ran like a well-oiled machine. “How can I help you?”
“Thor, could you take them to the storage wing for me? They want to see if I have anything left from my ex-husband.”
“They can stay here, Ms. Talbot. I can look around to see if you’ve retained anything from Mr. Penny.”
She looked at Oliver, who said, “We always find it helpful to hunt around ourselves.”
Marge said, “We understand if you don’t want two strangers looking around your belongings. He can come with us if that would make you feel better.”
“Yes, that would be a grand idea. I suppose it would be rather reckless of me to have you snoop around without supervision. Thor, go with the detectives. If they have any questions, feel free to answer them. But don’t get in their way.”
“Certainly, Ms. Talbot.”
“Take care.” She waved. “And don’t forget the cookies, Detective Oliver.”
“Thank you.”
“You can always come back for more.” She smiled. “Bye.”
When she left, Thor said, “This way.”
“Thank you,” Marge told him.
Thor walked six paces ahead down the marble hallway. Oliver whispered to Marge, “Was it my self-deluded ego or was she actually flirting with me?”
Marge shrugged. “The proper word is toying.”
“Sure wouldn’t mind being her plaything.” A big grin.
“Don’t be fooled by the charm. She could eat you for a prelude to a midnight snack.”
“Yum, yum.”
Marge laughed. “You know, Oliver, you’re lucky that I’ve got your back.” A beat. “I not only have your back, I’ve got it protected by a loaded gun. And let me tell you, brother, there’s nothing sexier in this world than a woman with a dead aim.”
The Global Earth Sanctuary sat on acreage that was dissected by multiple sinuous trails hugging numerous enclosures of chain-link and barbed wire fencing. The air was filled with animal sounds: roars, growls, grunts, hoots, hollers, huffs, yips and yaps, and other things that go bump in the night. It smelled ripe, and the odor would have been stronger had it been warmer. Vignette was walking at a good clip, so Decker didn’t have a lot of time to look around. But on the occasions when he did turn his head, his eyes took in blurry and shadowed shapes walking on all fours. His own feet were feeling the chill even through his socks as he hiked up the narrow pathways of mud and pebbles. Eventually a man of about sixty years came into view. He was dressed in a work shirt, vest, jeans, and boots. He gave them a wave.
“Hi there, Vern. I’m going to check out Cody now.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Might be a good idea.” The three of them kept walking until they neared a cage containing an upright mass of fur that was limping and pacing at the same time. The animal wasn’t just roaring. It was an ear-shattering bellow. It was only machismo that prevented Decker from covering his ears.
Vignette looked around the cage and shook her head. “He didn’t touch his lunch.” She pointed to a pile of fruit, leaves, and other undecipherable blobs. “Cody’s normally a good eater. He’s agitated about something.”
Y’think? Decker said, “How strong are those pens?”
“Cody’s not going anywhere.” She turned to Vern. “Well, I suppose I’d better have a look. Do you have the rifle?”
“It’s down at the trailer.”
“S’right. It’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure about that, Vignette?” Vern was concerned.
“I’ll be fine.” Without hesitation, she approached the beast, stopping at the wire fencing. She held a bag of raw fish and a spear. To the grizzly, she said, “What’s going on, Cody?”
At the sound of her voice, the animal lumbered over to the fence, dropped to all fours, and groaned. She said, “Grizzlies don’t see well, but their smell and hearing are excellent.”
Decker just kept staring, his heart beating faster than usual. He hoped he wasn’t about to witness something gruesome. Penny’s crime scene was still fresh in his brain.
She said, “What’s the matter, little guy?”
Little guy?
She took a whistle from her pocket and blew it once. Cody’s verbal protests had reduced to whimpering. The animal stood upright and pressed his right paw against the fence. The claws were thick and long and very sharp. She examined the paw carefully, and then fed him a hunk of raw fish impaled on the tip of the spear. “He’ll do anything for salmon.”
She blew the whistle again. This time the left paw was offered for examination. Afterward, he was rewarded with more salmon. “No problem so far.” A third blow of the whistle.
The bear sat on his rump and showed Vignette his right foot. “Oh my. That looks nasty, Cody. I’d be pissed, too, if I were you.”
Decker was five feet behind her. “What’s wrong?”
Vignette gave the bear a chunk of pink flesh on the spear. “He cut his foot pad on something sharp. I’m going to have to treat it before it gets infected.” She took out a small chub of salmon and put a capsule in the dead fish’s mouth. “Okay, guy, let’s see what I can do for you.” She fed Cody the laced flesh—using the spear as his eating implement—and then looked at her watch. Five minutes later, the bear rolled over and started to snore. She threw Vern the keys. “You know the rules. Lock me in. Keep an eye on him. And if I get caught, do NOT open the door under any circumstance.”
“You’re going in there?” Decker was aghast.
“I got about fifteen minutes to work.” Vignette winked at him. “Wish me luck.”
Decker was speechless. Vern unlocked the cage door, and Vignette went inside. She worked swiftly and professionally. First she disinfected the cut, washing it out with a squeeze bottle of salt water. Then she followed with a medicinal salve or ointment. Lastly, she sealed the wound as best she could with liquid bandage material.
Decker was constantly checking his watch. With each passing minute, he became more nervous. Vern said, “He’s startin’ to move, Vignette.”
“I’m almost done. I just want to make sure …” Her words trailed off.
It was Decker who now began to pace. “Please get out of there.”
Vingette got up. “I’m fine. Main thing is he’s fine.”
“No, the main thing is that you get out of there alive and whole.”
She smiled and dusted her pants off. Vern opened the gate and closed it quickly, rapping the solid chain around the gate and securing it with a padlock. As soon as the bear was upright, he teetered over to Vignette and moaned. She offered him more fish, and even though the animal was woozy, he took the bait.
“That’s a good boy,” she cooed. “You feel better?”
The bear grumbled then walked away, limping of course, but it was less marked.
The three of them watched in silence as the bear tried to restore his balance. Every few minutes, he hobbled over to Vignette, who fed him salmon in progressively tinier pieces until she told him, no more. Fifteen minutes later, his nose twitched and he trudged