Pepe raised his head. He seemed a tad dubious about that treadmill.
“Yeah, I know. I could stand to lose a couple of pounds myself. You should have seen me holding my breath to zip up this bridesmaid’s monstrosity that Mama’s making me wear on Saturday. Believe me, Pepe, that dress is awful enough without a big rip down the back to show off my lily-white butt.”
Pepe returned to his bowl as a low chuckle came from the entryway. I whirled, and felt my face catch fire.
“Tony! I didn’t hear you come in.”
He flashed a bright smile in the dim light of the enclosure. “I didn’t want to interrupt your Dr. Doolittle moment.”
“Yeah, Maddie gets after me for talking to the animals, too. It’s not like I think they’re going to open their mouths and talk back.”
“Of course not.”
His tone was amused. I couldn’t tell if he believed me. Better to change the subject. “What brings you to Himmarshee Park?”
“I saw a little blurb in today’s newspaper about the nature program. I thought I might be late. I stopped on the way to rescue a turtle trying to make it across the highway.”
Coming a bit closer, he peered into the snake’s section. He pulled back with a grimace, side-stepping away. So Tony was okay with turtles; snakes, not so much.
“The paper said this is the last walk until the fall brings cooler weather. I hoped you’d be leading it.”
I sensed another blush coming on. I was acting as silly as Maddie’s squealing schoolgirls. I had serious business to discuss. I couldn’t afford to be distracted by Tony’s charm, or those mesmerizing white teeth.
“Listen,” I said, draining all the levity from my voice, “I need to ask you some questions.”
“Should I have a lawyer present?” He smiled again, but a chill edged his voice. “Maybe your cousin Henry would agree to take me on as a client.”
“You don’t need a lawyer, Tony. And I apologize ahead of time if I’m out of line.”
I took a deep breath. “I was curious about you, so I went on the Internet and searched with your name.”
“And?” The cool edge had hardened to ice.
“And I found a lot of stuff about the Ciancio family being involved in restaurant-related crimes.”
He advanced a couple of steps toward me, then crossed his arms over his chest. His green eyes, smiley and warm before, were Arctic pools now.
“And?” he said, with a hint of menace.
I stepped to my right, positioning the snake’s pen between us. Tony moved no closer. I took the plunge.
“And I just wondered if any of the bad things that happened to your family’s restaurant rivals in New Jersey had anything to do with what happened to Ronnie Hodges down here.”
My question hung in the air. Tony lowered his chin and stared at the ground for the longest moment.
I could hear Pepe’s nose hitting the rim of his bowl. The raccoon splashed water as he washed his food. An ibis’ throaty call reverberated from deep in the swamp.
I was beginning to consider the sanity of raising this topic with a bunch of animals as my only witnesses when I heard a door slam in the distant parking lot. Faraway voices sounded. Human voices. Potential witnesses’ voices.
Tony’s face came up, his head tilted toward the lot. His gaze returned to meet mine.
“I wondered how long it would take for my family history to follow me here.” He seemed more resigned than angry. “It sounds like the other nature walkers are on their way. I don’t want to get into this now, Mace. I will tell you I had nothing to do with what you read about. My whole life, I’ve been trying to live down who my father is. What my family is.”
A flicker of pain lit in his eyes. I felt bad about putting it there. I resisted the urge to smooth out the wrinkle now marring his model-worthy brow.
The clamor of voices grew as my visitors made their way along the path. I also heard the rumble of a powerful motorcycle traversing the wooden bridge at the park’s entrance. The sound seemed out of place, since the bikers I’ve met generally prefer chicks and bars to birds and trees.
“I’d better get back to the office to meet them.” I nodded to the door. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to come along.”
His smile had been stripped of several thousand watts. But he managed a weak grin. “No, I really do want to see the park. And it’s not like you’re the first person who ever asked about my family. I’d like to talk later, though. Explain where I’m coming from.”
“Sure,” I said.
Collecting the food tray, I started for the exit. Before I could juggle the unwieldy tray to reach for the door handle, Tony jumped to open it for me. Apparently having a Mafia don for a daddy doesn’t rule out having nice manners.
As he stepped aside to let me pass, Tony bumped against the snake’s pen. A low hiss sounded as warning.
As Tony and I approached the wooden walkway outside the park’s office, I could barely believe who was among the nature walkers milling about.
The usual retirees were there, sporting bright clothes and sunburns. There was a serious-looking, thirtyish couple; binoculars around his neck, Birds of Florida in her hand. And there was the mystery woman from the bar at the Speckled Perch, outfitted again in dark glasses and black leather.
I greeted everyone, exchanged introductions, and outlined where the wooden boardwalk would take us. Then I addressed Ms. Sunglasses.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Jane Smith.”
Yeah, right, I thought. “Would you like to leave that in the office?” I gestured to the motorcycle helmet she carried.
Clasping it tightly to her side, she shook her head. “S’fine.”
“Everybody ready to spot some wildlife then?”
My answer was a chorus of yeses and smiles from the seniors and Tony, and nods from the birdwatchers. The sunglasses seemed to aim past me into the distance. No acknowledgment, not even a head nod. Not exactly Ms. Congeniality. She’d certainly seemed friendly enough last night, chatting up Carlos in the bar.
Maybe she was hung over because they’d stayed up all night, drinking and yakking. My stomach clenched like a fist. It surprised me how much it hurt to think that maybe talking wasn’t all the two of them had done.
We started out on the walk. It had to be one of the strangest I’d ever given. I always tried to draw out the visitors, asking folks where they came from originally. Few locals from this part of Florida would voluntarily walk through the woods in June at sunset unless there was the promise of shooting something, too.
On this walk, I got back a Pennsylvania, a few Ohios, and a Michigan. Tony piped up with New Jersey from the back.
We all turned to Ms. Sunglasses, waiting for her answer. Her lips opened just wide enough to mutter two words, “All over,” before she pressed them shut again.
She made Darryl from the fish camp look like a motor mouth.
Stone-faced and silent, she hung back from the rest of the group. Which would have been fine, if she’d shown the slightest interest in taking in the view from the boardwalk. But she seemed more intent on watching us than observing nature. I couldn’t say for sure, though. Despite the darkening sky, she never removed the sunglasses. And she didn’t participate, not even when I called the walkers to a railing to see a huge gator lolling in the swamp below the boardwalk.
“How big is he?” one of the Ohioans asked. Flashes went off on digital cameras.