I was sure it took a ton of magic to keep these force fields running day and night. They probably only had enough power to enchant the animals to stay in. With guided tours, people would be supervised. Plus, nobody would be dumb enough to try and get to the animals. I grinned as I dipped under a low branch. Nobody except this girl. Wait….
I closed my eyes and stretched my arms out as I approached the slightly shimmering magical force field. I was about to get quite a jolt if I was wrong. I winced and stepped forward.
Cool, tingly magic brushed my fingers, but they passed through. I peeled my eyes open, grinning, and stepped through with the rest of my body. I followed the sound of the voices, climbing over twisted roots and pushing aside leaves the size of my torso.
I silently whispered a prayer that I wouldn’t inadvertently cross over into the spider monster’s enclosure—whatever that was. I froze as Mark and Quincy came into view, then ducked quickly behind a thick tree with smooth bark before they could see me. I crouched down and eased back out, peeking through the feathery stalks of a fern.
Quincy’s chest heaved, and a deep red flush covered his face and neck. His voice shook as he scowled at Mark. “I’ve been going through the records.” He raised his thin brows. “Malorie always took care of everything, but now that I’m looking into it, I see she let you have too much freedom.”
Mark stood in front of Quincy but didn’t face him. He held one arm across his chest, the other at shoulder height, a smoking cigarette between his fingers. “What are you talking about?” He took a puff of the cigarette, his glasses slightly fogged from the humidity.
Quincy bristled and pointed a trembling finger at him. “Now—now I know you’ve been stealing potions. The numbers aren’t adding up.”
I raised my brows. Come again now? The veterinarian was stealing from the sanctuary? I remembered how surprised Quincy had been when we opened the chilled cupboard in the sanctuary’s office the other night and found so many potions missing. He must’ve looked into it and thought Mark was behind it.
I glanced back, suddenly wishing I hadn’t been so eager and gone to get Peter and Daisy. Was I about to witness another murder… and was I next?
Mark scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Quincy.” He looked him dead in the eye and spoke in a tone that said he clearly did know. “I believe you’re mistaken.”
Quincy stomped a loafer-clad foot. “I’m not mistaken!” He huffed. “I’m tired of everyone around here treating me like a simpleton and keeping secrets.”
Mark snorted. “Are you? You want to stop keeping secrets?” He tapped his cigarette. “Trust me, I know more than you have any idea of. You want me to keep my mouth shut about your little collections of ‘animals’ here, then you’ll just overlook those discrepancies, got it?”
I shifted in my crouch. What did he mean, keep his mouth shut about the animals?
Quincy’s face grew redder and splotchy. “What the shell’s that supposed to mean? Huh?” He shook his head, jowls bouncing. “I—I could have your license revoked.”
Mark barked out a laugh and sneered at him. “Oh, Quincy, it already was. Why do you think I’m working in this eel hole? I lost my license for being addicted to potions, and I’ve been doing my job just fine on them around here, so you keep looking the other way, and I will too.”
Quincy spluttered as Mark dropped his cigarette and ground it out with his toe. He patted Quincy on the shoulder as he walked off into the trees. “There is no one else you could get to do this job without asking a lot of questions.”
He disappeared into the jungle, and after a few moments, Quincy stalked after him.
I slowly rose to my feet and bit the inside of my cheek. What the shell? What could Mark mean? Were the animals being illegally trafficked? Was that what Malorie was hiding from Quincy?
I was lost in my thoughts when a hand closed around my shoulder from behind.
22
SLOTH
I let out a strangled cry and spun around, my hands raised like I was ready to karate chop my attacker.
Instead of a cold-blooded murderer, I found a tiny face with a smile and a little wet nose inches from my own. Two round black eyes lazily blinked at me.
I lurched back, my heart pounding in my throat, and attempted to suck in a breath as I took in the sloth, hanging upside down by both legs and one arm from a branch. It slowly retracted its shaggy arm and wrapped the fingers that had just been on my shoulder around the branch as well.
I glanced back over my shoulder—had Quincy or Mark heard me when I cried out? Those two were definitely up to something, and I didn’t fancy confronting them in the thick of the jungle, all alone. I curled my lip, wishing again that I’d gone and grabbed Peter and Daisy before exploring the enclosure. I sighed—then again, I might have missed that fishy conversation I’d overheard.
One hand pressed to my tight chest, I blew out a heavy breath and slowly approached the frankly pretty adorable animal. I crossed my arms as it rotated its head and looked at me upside down.
I let out a couple of squeaks. Hey, little fella. You scared me.
It squeaked. You.
I nodded, encouragingly.
It squeaked again. Speak.
I licked my lips.
Sloth.
Oh, boy. So it didn’t just move slowly, apparently.
I nodded and let out a couple of quiet “meeps.” I do indeed. I had a sudden thought. Hey—did you see two women come through here last night?
