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A Zoo of a Homicide: A Cozy Mystery Tribe Anthology, #10
A Zoo of a Homicide: A Cozy Mystery Tribe Anthology, #10
A Zoo of a Homicide: A Cozy Mystery Tribe Anthology, #10
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A Zoo of a Homicide: A Cozy Mystery Tribe Anthology, #10

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Snakes, Birds and Lions, oh my! Someone is attempting to get away with a crime.

From poison to thieves our sleuths aren't going to be relaxing with the fishes, or will they?
Slither into a zoo of a mystery with these 10 must read cozy mystery stories!

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAconite Cafe
Release dateDec 10, 2023
ISBN9798223663058
A Zoo of a Homicide: A Cozy Mystery Tribe Anthology, #10

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    A Zoo of a Homicide - Aconite Cafe

    COPYRIGHT

    A Zoo of a Homicide

    Published by Aconite Cafe

    P.O. Box 845

    Hamilton, TX 76531

    www.AconiteCafe.com

    © 2023 Aconite Cafe

    All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact: Staff@aconitecafe.com

    Cover by Aconite Cafe

    A Warden on the Wild Side © 2023 Elle Hartford

    Aviary Bad Ending © 2023 Kathryn Mykel

    Cattywampus of a Crime © 2023 Patty Joy

    Snake in the Glass © 2023 Casey Jones

    Have Hue Seen Tie-Dye? © 2023 Dani Simms

    Monkeys and Mayhem © 2023 Rune Stroud

    DandyLion © 2023 Naomi Muse

    An Environment for Murder © 2023 Hillari DeSchane

    Death at the Dog Show © 2023 Carmen Radtke

    ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

    This book was made possible because of our dedicated Patrons. Thank you for your support!

    Don Berryhill

    Nathan Hunter

    Frankie Autry

    Crys

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    A WARDEN ON THE WILD SIDE

    By Elle Hartford

    (Paranormal)

    1

    Seriously, Luca said, stretching his hands over his head. I’d kill for a job in a cute, tiny town like this, right near the beach. Wouldn’t you?

    I swatted my boyfriend playfully. Luca, we already have jobs in a cute little town. It just happens to be in the mountains instead of on the beach.

    Just think of it, he went on dreamily, green eyes shining against his dark skin as he stared out the window, oblivious to the rattling of our caravan. The sunsets, the beach days, no more freezing winters . . .

    I sighed. That last part did sound nice.

    Doesn’t matter where you are. A fuzzy black snout inserted itself between our seats: William, my magical canine companion. Neither one of you is ever going to get a job driving me around again. Are either of you even watching the road?

    Yes! I snapped dutifully back to the wheel of the rented magitech caravan. The dirt road stretching before us was empty, disappearing into forests and hills; we’d just passed the outskirts of a village literally named Last Stop. The bustle and energy of summertime at the beach was behind us. Although I don’t think I need to be hyper vigilant, I added rebelliously under my breath.

    Give Red a break, Luca said affably. We just had a whirlwind vacation, after all. Taiwo sure kept us busy with things to see in Seaside—

    There, William interrupted, leaning forward until he was practically on top of us. That’s what I really wanted to see.

    Not our dear friends on the one year anniversary of their wedding? I joked. Peering around his fluffy shoulders, I caught sight of the sign William had been waiting for. Rising above the trees, the words Seaside Sanctuary Zoo and Campground twinkled in the afternoon sun.

    Luca, a scholar by trade and ever one for details, hmmmed. But we left Seaside behind hours ago.

    So now it’s time for our first stop. William spoke as if he was explaining the basics of road-tripping to children. And I want to see the zoo. Are you just going to sit in the caravan, or what?

    * * *

    Seaside Sanctuary, it turned out, was quite the production. As someone who spent years as a traveling alchemist, I’ve seen my share of magical sights: merfolk weddings, for example, and pixie festivals, and mythical forests. But as far as zoos went, this one took the cake.

    It was set back from the road, down a driveway lined with fairy lights and tree boughs so thick they created a tunnel. When we emerged, we might as well have been in a new world. There were no fences; instead, a dozen quirky, colorful buildings rose up, like a village of giant bungalows. A sky-blue tower with skylights and eaves carved like feathers was labeled Aviary; a shimmering, low-slung teal building painted with sea stars and corals housed the aquarium; a miniature castle in varying shades of black had to be the nocturnal house. Between all the exhibits, dozens of food carts vyed for visitors’ attention with sugary sweet smells, displays of swirling lemonades, or magical sparklers and bubbles. The cobblestone pathways were full of people of all kinds and ages, and everyone seemed to be having a lovely time.

    William had already raced ahead of Luca and me. He waited expectantly beside the ticket stand. Though there weren’t any obvious gates or magical wards protecting the zoo itself, I had a feeling that nobody managed to get past that ticket stand without paying their entry fee. A fleeting glimpse of a police officer in uniform disappearing behind a nearby building designed like a tree fort seemed to confirm this. But I shook the pessimistic thought from my head; it wasn’t like I’d been hoping to sneak in, anyway. From the looks of this zoo, they absolutely deserved the ticket money.

    Welcome, and perfect timing! one of two ticket sellers called as we walked up. She looked to be about two feet tall—a gnome—standing on a little platform behind her desk, wearing a pink jumpsuit decorated with leaping giraffes. The outfit was topped off with a bright blond updo, a terrific smile, and a gold name tag reading Jenny. We’re staying open late today for a fireworks show this evening!

    That sounds great, Luca told her as I rummaged in my coin purse. Does the zoo often do things like that?

    All the time! ‘Wild animals, wild delights,’ that’s our slogan, Jenny answered. She seemed honestly enthusiastic as she added, Every day here is new! You never know what will happen next.

    I paid for our tickets—since visiting the zoo was William’s whim, I’d insisted I foot the bill—and collected a magical moving map before joining the others and murmuring quietly, Is it just me, or are the words ‘you never know what will happen next’ never a good thing? Are we at the point where I’ve helped Officer Thorn solve a few too many crimes?

    No, you’re just a stick in the mud, William informed me, before dashing off to the nearest exhibit—a palace of jungle vines and mosquito nets.

    Luca slung a comforting arm around my shoulder. Probably, it’s a little of both.

    Oh, geez, thanks, I laughed.

    I’m just saying, we are still on vacation. You can leave the crime-solving brain at—

    Ahead of us, William woofed in surprise. Though he looks like a shaggy black dog, William almost never makes such uncivilized noises. Instantly alarmed, Luca and I sprang forward and found—

    Well, as we turned the corner into an alcove of the jungle palace, we found what appeared to be a large and very angry orange cat.

    Spot? said William.

    William, said the cat, in a voice more forceful than welcoming. Good. Since you’re here, you can investigate. Purrfect timing.

    * * *

    Spot the angry orange cat led us through a forest of bamboo, up a rope ladder, and onto a boardwalk suspended in the trees lining the zoo walkways. In any normal circumstance, I would have found this behind-the-scenes tour pretty exciting. But in this case, my hackles were up.

    Investigate what? I hissed, nearly stepping on William’s back feet as we crossed a tiny suspension bridge over a churro stand.

    If I knew that, I wouldn’t have to follow a cat around, now, would I? he hissed back.

    I tripped over an uneven plank and caught myself at the last minute. But how do you know the cat in the first place?

    No talking! Spot called from the front.

    I opened my mouth to argue, but Luca poked me. Though he was bringing up the rear and couldn’t see my expression, he knew me well enough to see that the suspense was getting to me.

    At last, our boardwalk connected us to the tree-fort building I’d seen near the entrance. As we came to an unceremonious halt on the building’s second-story porch, Spot finally began explaining.

    William and I go way back, he said, fixing me with a yellow glare. We’re old buddies. Isn’t that right?

    The question was directed at William, but even I could see where this was going. I put one hand on my hip. What exactly do you want us to investigate at a zoo, of all places?

    What else? asked Spot. A murder.

    The cat twitched his tail and dove through a nearby open door, into the building. I hesitated just long enough to shot Luca a guess I don’t seem so off-base now, do I?? look before following suit.

    Whoa. Just inside the door, William backed up, sitting down heavily against my leg. I was glad he did; as my eyes adjusted to the dim interior, there was a lot to make sense of. The room was about as large as our caravan, spanning the length of the building, with an open staircase at the back. It was ringed by narrow windows that faced out onto the wraparound porch we’d just left. Those windows let in just enough dappled sunlight to see that this was someone’s office—or, it had been an office. Filing cabinets had been dumped on their sides. Papers and receipts littered the floor. A lamp from the one heavy desk was on the floor, and the smell of lamp oil lingered in the air. But in the center of it all was the worst part: a human-size body lying facedown on the wood floor, with a grim police officer kneeling beside it.

    What’s this? The officer looked up as we huddled by the door.

    Help, said Spot, rather unhelpfully.

    I cleared my throat. Hello, Officer. My name is Red, and this is my familiar, William, and my partner, Luca. We’re visiting from Belville. This cat—Spot—noticed us outside the jungle house, recognized William, and wanted us to help investigate . . .

    They’re perfect, Spot said, though he still sounded so grouchy that it was hardly a compliment. They don’t know anything about the zoo, so they’re unbiased.

    Is he—um—the zoo director? Luca asked, still looking at the body on the floor.

    He isn’t. Or rather, he wasn’t, the officer said, standing. As I got a better look at her, I understood why she hadn’t needed any extra light to investigate the room. Her pointed ears and pale, almost lichen-colored skin gave her away as an elf, the kind known to have very good vision in the dark. She tied and re-tied her blue-black hair into a tight bun as she added, But I don’t need help investigating. All that’s left now is to catch the culprit.

    You can’t know who it is already, burst Spot.

    The officer fixed him with a no-nonsense look. We have a witness saying Mr. Varsity here was coming up to this very office for a meeting with Mr. Taru just before four p.m. Now it’s quarter after, and where is Mr. Taru?

    Spot’s eyes burned in the dark. You still can’t say—

    Furthermore, said the officer, crossing her arms, the murder weapon appears to have been a heavy baton, the kind a zoo warden might carry in case of emergencies. Also missing from the scene. Just like Mr. Taru. Missing from his own office. He certainly has a lot to answer for."

    My mind raced as I watched this interaction, putting the pieces together. So Mr. Taru is the warden, or director, here, and Mr. Varsity was supposed to be meeting with him right now.

    Add to that the fact that a family of witnesses heard a strange scuffle at 4:05, but the doors downstairs were locked from the inside and I had to force my way in from the porch, and the case is basically closed, the officer concluded. Unless Mr. Taru has an airtight alibi.

    I glanced at the door we’d come through. Splintered wood confirmed the officer’s story. No wonder I saw her going around the back of the building earlier. Maybe she was looking for stairs?

    William looked over at his friend Spot. Doesn’t look good for your director.

    This refocused the police officer’s attention, and she looked us over once more. Red, William, and Luca, was it? Officer Nawhemme. You can call me Emme. I appreciate that you’re willing to help, but it isn’t necessary. As far as I’m concerned, this case is open and shut, and the further I can get back to Last Stop and away from these crowds, the better.

    Ah. While I could sympathize with Emme’s disinterest in crowds, I did wonder if she was being a little hasty. Pardon me for saying it, Officer Emme, but if you’re from Last Stop, how did you get here so fast?

    Just happened to be out on my rounds, on the road nearby, she said, already looking past me to the door. Good timing, I guess.

    With that, she turned to Spot. When did you last see Mr. Taru?

    For the first time, Spot struck me as sounding evasive rather than confident. I—that is—this morning. Of course. At lunch, over by the prairie house.

    In the morning, or at lunch? Officer Emme pressed. What time exactly?

    At—around one thirty, Spot said finally. Every time is morning to a cat. Don’t you know that?

    Emme gave Spot an inscrutable look before commanding us all to touch nothing and then disappearing out the door.

    As we shuffled back into place after letting her through, I, too, gave Spot a look. Mr. Taru?

    Our zoo warden, Spot sighed. He’s a very busy man. He’s almost never in his office, because he’s always out in the zoo checking on things. I’m positive he wasn’t even here when Mr. Varsity showed up.

    But who else would have the office keys? asked William.

    And who is Mr. Varsity? asked Luca.

    No one, and the Varsity family owns the land we used to build the polar bear exhibit, Spot said. His feline voice tightened. They’ve been trying to raise the rent on us and chase us out for years.

    So what you’re saying is, there’s a motive there, I said carefully. And you, Spot? Are you Mr. Taru’s . . . assistant?

    You could say that, the cat said smugly. But it doesn’t matter right now. I need you to be my assistants. Officer Emme has got it wrong. There’s no way Mr. Taru did this. You have to clear his name.

    I glanced down at William, and Spot did the same, focusing on him with laser vision. We are old friends . . .

    Fine, William said at last. We’ll help you poke around. But I’m not making any promises.

    A little help is all I ask, purred the cat.

    * * *

    Okay, then, I said, as the three of us reconvened on the path a short distance away from the unfortunate office. Spot had stayed behind to guard the scene of the crime. So. Want to split up and search for clues?

    I’d expected William to be the most enthusiastic about this, since it was his old pal we were helping. But William shook his head, making his floppy ears wave like twin kites in a hurricane. Nope. I’m sticking with you, Red.

    Luca tilted his head to one side. Are you expecting trouble?

    Knowing Spot? William huffed. Yes.

    Just exactly how do you know Spot? I asked. And how well?

    Let’s not get into it now. Suffice it to say, he was a familiar once like me. But things didn’t go as well for him, William said, this time with a full body shake.

    Aww. That implied that William was happy we’d found each other, and while deep down I knew that to be true, it was unlike him to come so close to saying it aloud. I was touched—until I remembered the murder. So, we’re sticking together?

    I glanced at Luca, who nodded. If the zoo assistant is that much trouble, and the zoo warden is under suspicion, I think I’d rather be with you two than out on my own.

    You never know what’ll happen, I agreed, half joking, half grim. Since no one else was in the office building, why don’t we start by visiting each of the exhibit halls? Maybe one of the keepers can give us some insight.

    Luca and William agreed, and we set off with a purpose. Not even the churro stand or a nearby nacho vendor could distract us.

    Our first stop was the aviary. We went through a sort of air lock to get in, a series of double doors that kept the birds inside. Once we were in the building, I could see why: we stood at the foot of what seemed to be a large wind tunnel—a bird’s paradise. Rocky outcrops lined the wall in one spot; in another, leafy trees reached up toward the skylights. Birds of all types soared, and hovered, and sang from the brush.

    A crowd of children ran out around us, and in their wake, I saw a likely suspect: someone with the beleaguered look of a docent, wearing a Seaside Sanctuary sash. The fact that the docent wasn’t a person and instead seemed to be a griffin—that is, four-footed and winged, half lion and half eagle—didn’t give me pause at all, after how authoritative Spot had been.

    Hello, I called, approaching the griffin. I came up close and added more quietly, My friends and I are helping the police with an investigation, and we’d like to ask some questions, if you don’t mind?

    To say we were helping the police was a bit of a stretch, admittedly. But I was used to saying such things, having often worked with Officer Thorn in Belville. And given the griffin’s warm reaction, it had been the right choice.

    Of course, only too glad, he said, his voice guttural, even in hushed tones. You came at just the right moment. I only just finished a tour. Call me Geoff.

    Geoff the Griffin, I thought with a smile as my friends and I introduced ourselves. With the niceties over, I asked cautiously, You’ve heard about it, I suppose?

    Word travels on the air, especially around here, Geoff said, gesturing one strong, talon-tipped paw at the aviary around us. This struck me as a quaint way to refer to the exhibit keepers; maybe it was a joke, along the lines of ‘dogs and their owners end up looking alike’? But I set aside the question, focusing on the crime. Geoff was still talking. I’m afraid I can’t say anyone here will miss Mr. Varsity. There’s a saying amongst us, you know, that he’s made himself the very worst part of working here.

    Not the screaming kids? William asked, panting.

    Oh, you get used to those—just like putting on a mask. No, it’s actually fun, doing the tours, Geoff said. If tiring. Exhausting, actually. And very hard on the throat.

    In any case. I cleared my throat. Can you tell us what exactly the rumors are?

    Oh, that Mr. Taru killed him in a fit of rage during a meeting about the rent going up, of course, Geoff said easily. But it’s all hogwash. I saw Mr. Taru myself, just now.

    Just now? Luca repeated, interested.

    Well—recently. It couldn’t have been earlier than three thirty, the griffin said. He came by to check on the wind spell, you know. It’s been on the fritz lately.

    And does Mr. Taru do the magical maintenance around here? I asked. If so, I could see why Spot had insisted he was so busy. And I had to wonder why someone with magical ability would kill an enemy with a baton.

    Some, here and there, Geoff said. "We all pitch in as we can, you know. We don’t

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