Nevermore (5 page)

“Hey, does the Bronx Zoo have penguins? Like in
Madagascar
?”

Without even looking up, Sam said, “That was the Central Park Zoo. I mean, the Bronx Zoo probably has ’em, too . . .”

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“Yeah, but they’re probably not as cool as the ones in
Madagascar
. I mean, I doubt they can take over a freighter or do hand- to-hand combat.”

“Well, Dean, if they
can,
then we’ll have three jobs . . .”

FOUR

The Bronx Zoo

The Bronx, New York

Thursday 16 November 2006

Clare Hemsworth brushed the bits of grass off the Wildlife Conservation Society logo on her blue shirt as she headed out into the pavilion in front of the Wild Asia ride. The crowds were a bit sparse in November, but visitors to the Bronx Zoo still wanted to go on Wild Asia.

Clare remembered her mother talking about how thrilling Wild Asia was back when it first opened in the late seventies. For her part, she couldn’t imagine why anybody would make such a fuss. The monorail was
so
retro, and it wasn’t as if it was
that
big a deal to see animals wandering around free. Of course, back in the stone age when Mom was a kid, Never

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she guessed it was a big deal not to see animals in cages, but there wasn’t any novelty to it now. The monorail was a cheesy piece of plastic that Clare was convinced was gonna fall off the rail any day now.

Then again, she was in a bad mood generally.

Ever since what happened with those two kids, she’d been talking to reporters, to police, and to lawyers representing Fordham University, and she was really, really sick of it. The lawyers were the worst—okay, cops and reporters were doing their jobs, but why should she have to listen to crap from Fordham’s legal eagles just because the two kids who died happened to be their students? They weren’t even killed on campus!

“Excuse me, Ms. Hemsworth?”

Clare closed her eyes and let out a breath. She’d had about fifty conversations that started with those four words this past week, and they were always like having root canal, only without the anes-thetic. If it wasn’t someone from law enforcement or from the WCS, she was going to tell them to screw off
so
fast . . .

She turned, and saw the hottest man she’d ever seen in her life.

There was another guy with him, but Clare didn’t pay much attention to him, she was focused on this one guy. He had such amazing brown eyes, and, if he was the one who’d called her name, the 42 SUPERNATURAL

sexiest voice she’d ever heard. Right there and then, she decided that she would do whatever this guy asked. He was tall, too, but not intimidating the way some tall guys were. His semishaggy dark hair was combed neatly, and he had an adorable small nose. “Uh, yeah, I’m—I’m Ms. Hemsworth. Uh, Clare.”

The other, shorter one, said, “Nice to meet you, Clare. My name’s John Mayall, and my friend here is Bernie Watson—we’re with
National Geographic
.”

Clare blinked, and tore her eyes away from Bernie Watson—what a wonderful name!—to look at the shorter one with the close-cropped hair, blue eyes, and mouth that looked like it was in a permanent smirk.
John, was it?
“Uh, okay.” Then the text message she’d gotten from Frieda, her boss, came back to her. “Right! Frieda said you guys’d be talking to me. What do you need?”

“We’re doing a story on the orangutan that killed those two students, and we were told you were the one who cared for them.” Bernie added, “If it’s too much trouble—”

“Oh no!” she said quickly, not wanting Bernie to go away, but also still not entirely clear as to why
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would be doing this kind of story. Frieda’s text had said that they were cleared by the press office, as long as they stuck with the questions in the memo that had gone around on Monday, but Never

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Clare was confused as to why they’d bothered in the first place. “This isn’t really, I dunno—typical of you guys, is it?”

John grinned. “Hey, we can’t have all our stories be naked pictures of pygmies.”

Rolling her eyes, Clare ignored John, and looked up at Bernie’s tall form and soulful eyes. “So what is it you guys want to know? I mean, I’ve already told this story, like, a
thousand
times. You can probably get whatever you want from the newspapers.”

“They’re being very sensationalistic,” Bernie said. “We’re trying to print the truth, and make it clear that this wasn’t the orangutan’s fault.”

“Oh, it wasn’t Dean’s fault at all!” The short one suddenly developed a coughing fit, and then said, “Dean? That was the orangutan’s name?”

“Well, that’s what I called him. We’ve got two on loan from Philadelphia for a while, and I named them Hank and Dean—y’know, after the Venture Brothers.”

Looking at John, Bernie said, “Actually, I think Dean’s a great name for a big ape, don’t you?”

“Not really,” John said in a low voice, and Clare started wondering what was going on. But then John looked back at her. “So, Clare, can you tell us in your own words what happened?”

“Yeah, okay.” She was feeling a little exposed, so 44 SUPERNATURAL

she led the two reporters to one of the wooden tables near a food stand. Taking a deep breath, and trying not to get lost in Bernie’s eyes, she went through the whole story: how Dean suddenly went crazy and started jumping up and down, before retreating under a rock. “Nobody saw him for a while after that—we don’t really keep an eye on them 24/7, y’know?—and then when I went to feed him and Hank, I couldn’t find him. Now you gotta understand, both these guys never miss a feeding—

like,
ever
.” She found her eyes misting up, and she wiped them with the cuff of the sleeve of her blue shirt.

John said, “You must care about Hank and Dean very much. That’s really admirable—I’ve always been impressed with the work people like you do.”

“Thanks,” she said quickly, then looked at Bernie. “So I knew something was wrong, and we in-stituted a search. Animals wander off sometimes, and Dean had been acting a little weird, but we usually have
really
good security. But we didn’t find anything.” Good security was an understate-ment. Allan and Jimmy had lost their jobs thanks to Dean’s escape.

Bernie leaned forward while John suddenly got up. “The paper said that NYPD Animal Control took Dean in.”

Clare nodded. “They called us first, since we’re Never

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the only people in the city who
have
orangutans.

Our animals have transponders so we can verify who they are, so they sent me to Animal Control.” She shuddered at the memory. “
God,
what an awful place. All these animals stuck in tiny metal cages and treated like crap. I mean, I know, most of ’em are involved in crimes and stuff, but
God
.”

A napkin appeared in front of her face. She looked up to see John, with a look of what she guessed was concern on his face. “Thanks,” she said as she took the napkin and wiped the tears away. She even almost smiled; John was trying
way
too hard.

He sat back down next to Bernie, across from her. “So you checked the transponder.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t really need to, y’know?

I know my Dean.” She wiped new tears with the napkin. “The poor little guy was scared to
death
.

They did blood tests on him, and he was hopped up on amphetamines of some kind, can you
believe
that?”

“Who would do that?” John asked.

“Well,
duh,
somebody who wanted to kill those two kids.” God, what kind of idiot
was
this John guy?

“So it wasn’t Dean’s fault?” Bernie said, sounding relieved.

Clare shook her head. “And we were
so
afraid that we’d lose him. Sometimes the families of victims 46 SUPERNATURAL

insist that the animals be euthanized, and judges usually come down on their side.”

“Really?” Bernie said. “That’s awful.” At this point, she couldn’t work up much outrage. “It’s typical. They’re part of this world, too, but try to get most humans to acknowledge that.

In fact, I’m going to law school part-time so I can make the laws about this kinda thing tougher.”

“Good for you,” Bernie said. “I actually almost went to law school.”

“Really? Why’d you give it up?”

Bernie hesitated. “Weird family stuff,” he said quietly. “Anyhow, I’m real happy with what I’m doing right now, believe me.”

“Well, good for you. Still, you should think about it. So many lawyers these days are just in it to represent corporations and make big money—

we need more people who care about the world, y’know? Where were you gonna go?”

“Stanford—that’s where I did my undergrad work.”

Clare whistled appreciatively. “I’m at NYU. I wish I had more time for class, but it’s expensive, and I work a lot of hours here.” John then said, “I’m sure you’ll get through it fine. You seem determined.”

“I am, yeah,” Clare said quickly to John, then looked back at Bernie.
All that, and brains, too, if
he made it through Stanford.

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But then John said, “You said families of the victims usually ask for the animals to be—to be euthanized.” John pronounced the word as if he’d never used it in conversation before, which struck Clare as odd. “But they didn’t ask for that this time?” She’d been hoping to quiz Bernie more on his law-school aspirations, but John seemed determined to actually do their job, which Clare supposed she could understand. “No, Dean lucked out.” Was it her imagination or did John wince every time she referred to the orangutan by name? “Both the kids were members of WCS, and their families were sympathetic. Once the blood test proved that Dean was drugged, they didn’t insist, and the cops were in a good mood that day, so they let us have him back.” She shook her head. “I remember one time—in

Minnesota, maybe?—a meerkat bit a kid who was too stupid to actually pay attention to the sign that said not to stick your hand over the fence. The family refused to give the kid a rabies test, so the zoo had to euthanize the entire family of meerkats.”

“Sounds to me,” John said, “like the wrong family got put down.”

Clare nodded, conceding the point to John, then turning back to lose herself in Bernie’s eyes. “So Dean’s back with us, but we won’t put him back out in the habitat yet.”

“Why?”

“You kidding? He’s, like,
totally
traumatized.

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I just came back from feeding him, and he wouldn’t eat until I left. He won’t go near Hank, and he won’t let me hold him.”

John’s mouth fell open. “You
hold
him?” Clare couldn’t believe he’d even ask that. “Of
course
. But now when I try, he—he
hisses
.” Bernie bit part of his lower lip for a second, which Clare thought was just
adorable
. “Clare, can I ask a favor?”

“Of course,” she said without hesitation. Then added with what she hoped was a coquettish smile,

“You can
ask
.”

“Can we—can we
see
Dean?” That wasn’t what she’d been hoping for, especially since it meant she would have to disappoint him. “I’m sorry, but I so totally can’t. Right now, they’re just letting me in there.” John leaned forward. “Well, if
you
say it’s okay—”

“It’s not up to me. They only let me in because I’m their handler. We may wind up sending them both back to Philadelphia because of this. I’m sorry, but I’ll get in a
huge
amount of trouble, and—and then they won’t even let me see them anymore.” Bernie was cute, but he wasn’t
that
cute. Hank and Dean were her boys, and she wasn’t letting anything jeopardize her relationship with them.

Not even Bernie.

They asked a few more random questions and then they got up, which surprised and disappointed Never

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her. “Well,” Bernie said, “thanks for your help. If you think of anything else to share with us, give me a call, okay?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ratty piece of paper. “I’m sorry, we’re outta business cards. We ordered them, like, three weeks ago, and still nothing.”

All of a sudden alarm bells were going off in Clare’s head. Why weren’t they asking more questions? And they hadn’t been taking notes or anything.

Still, she took his phone number. She wasn’t a complete fool. Maybe she could talk to him without his partner and his drooling.

John shook her hand for a little
too
long and said, “It was a real pleasure meeting you, Clare. I hope Dean gets better.”

“Thanks.” She broke the handshake before John did, and then watched them both walk toward the staircase that would take them up to other parts of the zoo, or to one of two exits.

And that was it.

Frowning, Clare stared at the number, which had a 650 area code. She was pretty sure that
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