“I do have to admit that this is somewhat exciting,” Alicia whispers as she walks arm in arm with her husband. They move to the side to let a group of kids run by, all of the children exciting to be at the Bronx Zoo. “Dawn was very nice about the change of plans too. I hope she isn’t forced to close Heaven’s Nest because of this. Did you know she is turning one of the lesser used floors into an on-site hospital?”

“If you ask me, the woman is overambitious on that regard,” Demarcus replies while watching the bears. Two of the large beasts stare at him, their heads cocking to the side in unison. “Guess I’m not one to talk, but at least I’m staying in the food industry. Maybe she’s simply a different breed of entrepreneur than me. Not that I’m jealous, but I’ve never met anyone like her.”

“Should I be getting jealous, dear?” his wife teases with a playful smirk. She yelps when a peacock jumps out from behind some bushes, the bird spreading its wings to block their way. “It doesn’t look friendly, so let’s go around. Perhaps it’s mating season and we came too close to a nest.”

Moving around the bushes, they find that more peacocks are strutting around the wider path and screech at people trying to get through. The birds refuse to move even when the workers try to get through in a cart. Forced to get out and push the vehicle, the two women are mercilessly pecked around their calves and ankles. With an echoing call, one of the peacocks jumps onto a young girl’s head and bends down to eat her ice cream. Amused at first, the child begins crying when the animal refuses to leave and sends her snack to the ground. Having already taken a picture, the parents attempt to shoo the bird away without hurting it. Fed up with the stubborn peacock, the father punches it in the head and immediately finds himself swarmed by the entire flock. It takes a minute for the workers and several helpful visitors to get the man out of the aggressive mob, his head covered in bleeding cuts.

Unnerved by the scene, the Langs take the only open path and stay far away from any peacocks that they see. Wanting to get somewhere safe, they duck into the Reptile House and take immediate comfort from the silence. Voices can be heard from the far side of the exhibit, but the first hallway is empty of visitors. The couple takes their time to see the babies and move on to a display of tortoises. Once their hearts stop pounding to the point of aching, they relax and take more enjoyment from their outing.

“I never knew peacocks could be so aggressive,” Alicia says, moving on to a tank with a large turtle inside. She runs a finger along the glass and is surprised by how her hand comes away with a thin layer of frost. “They should do something about those birds. If you ask me, it isn’t safe having them wander around unsupervised. You wouldn’t do that with a polar bear or a tiger.”

“To be fair, peacocks don’t eat people,” Demarcus replies, moving ahead to look at the various snakes. A lump grows in his throat when he glances ahead to see the crocodiles are more active than he has ever seen them. “Besides, how would you keep them in one place? Seems a shame to put them inside since they need a lot of space. Cutting their flight feathers would be cruel too. I’m sure the people in charge will figure something out.”

“True. It is so cold in here.”

“Strange considering this for the reptiles.”

“They seem comfortable though.”

“Maybe it’s only something on this side of the glass.”

“Such a strange day.”

Coming to a large reticulated python, Alicia leans forward to get a closer look at the sleeping animal. It takes her a second to realize that her head is actually inside the tank, the glass that was there a moment ago having disappeared. Moving back, she turns toward her husband to find that he is nowhere to be seen. A loud crunch draws her toward the main area, her attention locked on the grunting crocodiles in their enclosure. Tails can be seen thrashing and one of the animals occasionally jumps out of the water to slam into the glass. A chorus of frogs joins in the symphony while a distant hissing sends a chill up the woman’s spine.

Hoping to find Demarcus and leave, Alicia is passing a bench when the sound repeats itself to her right. She screams when she spots a gigantic crocodile sitting next to an educational display. The creature has golden eyes and its scales are white, the ones around its mouth covered in blood. With a quick lift of its head, the predator swallows the last part of Demarcus and licks its lips in an oddly human display. Taking a step towards Alicia, the animal opens its mouth to show her husband’s head is stuck in its throat. Hacking and coughing, the crocodile stops its advance to swallow the last of its meal. The animal makes a quick charge at the woman and snaps at her legs, but she moves away at the last moment.

With another scream, Alicia smacks the crocodile in the head with her purse and drives it back. Green blood is ebbing from its punctured eye and it becomes more cautious since it cannot catch its next meal by surprise. The terrified woman slips out of her heels and turns to run back to the entrance, but stops at the sight of the pythons slithering toward her. As the reptiles approach, the biggest one begins swallowing the others until it is the only one alive to devour Alicia. She is surprised to see the serpent rear up, its head touching the ceiling. Checking the crocodile, the cornered woman sees that it is inching closer while deciding if she or the python is the better meal.

Retreating against the wall, Alicia feels a damp mist and wet plants against her neck. She reaches back to find that there is no glass for the tank she is touching. Looking down, she frowns at how the information display is blank, except for the picture of a frog. One of the colorful animals hops onto her shoulder, its golden color beautiful and slick. The amphibian stares at the nervous woman, its eyes tiny pools of black curiosity. When the crocodile grunts only a few feet away, Alicia screams and the poison dart frog leaps into her open mouth. As the paralyzed woman collapses against the wall, the python returns to its cage and regurgitates the other snakes along the way. Turning to the crocodile, she sees no sign of the animal or her husband, except for Demarcus’s blood-covered watch.

The late hour and lack of proof gives Gemma pause when she gets to the suite’s door, her hand repeatedly rising in vain to knock. She wishes she had her badge or some way to identify herself as a police officer. The temptation to steal an employee uniform and try to trick the couple into leaving is strong enough to make her go back to the elevator. Gemma returns to the door when she considers that a staff member could catch her and let Dawn know about her solving the riddle. Believing that time is short, she knocks and takes a step back to give whoever looks through the peephole a clear view. She keeps her hands in the open to prove she is not armed and turns until she hears a chain being undone.

A bald man in a monogramed robe stands in the doorway, his moustache bristling in a way that the detective thought was only possible in cartoons. The faint aroma of pizza drifts off Demarcus even though he shows signs of having recently been in the shower. He has a small gun in his hand, but keeps the weapon aimed at his unexpected guest’s knee instead of a more vital area. In contrast to her portly husband, Alicia Lang is elegant and slender with braided hair down to her waist. With only a few wrinkles on her face and no gray in her tresses, she looks much younger than Demarcus. Gemma notices that the businessman keeps himself between herself and his wife.

“I have reason to believe someone is trying to kill you,” the detective says, which causes the gun to aim for her head. Carefully holding up her hands, she nervously licks her lips and prays there are no sudden noises to startle the man. “My name is Gemma Cook and I’m a New York City detective. I don’t have my badge with me because I’m undercover. We believe a serial killer is operating out of Heaven’s Nest and you are the next target. The person told us that they are going after someone who made a kingdom out of circles, squares, and triangles. That would be pizza, which is your business. Feel free to let me inside since it’s awkward standing out here and rambling.”

“I think we’re fine like this,” Demarcus replies, flicking the safety off his gun. The man stops when his wife lowers his arm and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t tell me you believe this woman. She has no badge and I smell alcohol on her breath. I bet she’s going to ask for money to protect us.”

“Actually, I was going to politely suggest that you leave in the morning and stay at another hotel,” the anxious officer interjects. She closes her eyes when the gun is back in her face, the opening for a strike still visible in her mind. “Please believe what I’m saying. You’re in danger and I’m risking my cover by warning you.”

“She does seem determined,” Alicia whispers, sliding between her husband and the door frame. She reaches out to touch the other woman’s face, her manicured nails grazing a sweaty cheek. “I wonder if she rushed up here. Still, I do agree with Demarcus that we need more than your word. Are we being targeted for money?”

Gemma takes some comfort in the questioning because it means they are giving her a chance to save their lives. “From what we can tell, the murderer simply enjoys killing. He or she has begun playing a game with the police by leaving hints. Yes, I know it sounds like something out of a movie. This person has gotten away with a lot and is getting bolder. That means the targets are becoming more high profile.”

“We were lead to believe that a cook was responsible for the latest incident,” Demarcus interrupts while putting his weapon away. Adjusting his robe, the businessman gently guides his wife back into the room. “That massacre is all over the news. According to the police, the killer was already confirmed and apprehended.”

“Yes and no. He drugged the bridesmaid, but was killed by someone else.”

“You’re right. This does sound like a ridiculous movie plot.”

“Not too surprising if you consider that we’re dealing with an unbalanced individual.”

“This is our ten year anniversary and I will not cut the trip short.”

Before the argument can continue, the distant elevator dings and begins to open for one of the maids. Not wanting to get caught, Gemma tackles Demarcus into the room and closes the door with her foot. She gets off him immediately and remains on her knees to make sure the couple knows she is not going to attack. Reaching into her pocket, the detective takes out her wallet and opens it to her driver’s license. Alicia takes the offering to examine it closely, but quickly hands it back with a shrug. Demarcus snatches it and thumbs through all of the bills and cards before pulling out a picture of Gemma in her uniform. Politely putting everything back in order, he gives the wallet back to the detective and puts his gun on a nearby table. The man takes a seat and takes his wife by the hand, a somberness coming over the couple.

“Didn’t know I had that, but there’s the proof that I’m who I say I am,” Gemma replies while she goes to put her ear against the door. The sound of the maid’s cart can still be heard moving down the hallway, stopping only for a minute as the woman knocks on a door. “I’m really sorry about all of this. If it helps, I can leave the number of my partner. His name is Max Boros and he can put in the paperwork to reimburse you for the trouble. My point is that you really shouldn’t stay in this hotel.”

“We’re only going to be in town for one more day,” Demarcus says, reaching over to rub his wife’s arm. Unnerved by the threat, he takes a sip of lemonade that has become watered down by the melted ice. “I still don’t know what to make of this, but you appear serious enough that I don’t want to take a risk. Checking out one day early shouldn’t be suspicious. We can always tell Dawn that business has called us back home. There are some sights we wish to see, but I don’t feel comfortable telling you where we might be.”

“I completely understand,” the detective states while handing a card to Alicia. Hearing the maid go into another room, she cracks the door open and takes a peek. “Sorry if this is rude, but you don’t have to trust me as long as you believe me. My only concern is that you two are safe and away from whatever is going on in this hotel. Have a happy anniversary and enjoy your trip home.”

Feeling a little foolish for the dramatics, Gemma sneaks into the hallway and takes a step toward the elevator. She stops when a door opens and part of the maid’s cart creeps out, the woman stopping to talk to the people inside. Blocked from the easiest way out, the detective turns around to sprint for the stairwell. The sound of squeaking wheels can be heard and she looks over her shoulder to see the maid stepping into the open. Gemma realizes that there is no way for her to escape unseen, so she tries to squeeze into a doorway and wait for the woman to go into another room.

With a faint shifting of stone, a ceiling tile falls on the maid and drives her head into her chest. Horrified by the sight, Gemma is about to call for help when the corpse gets back up and grips the cart. The phantom moves ahead, banging into the walls and tripping since it cannot see through its ribcage. Squeaking wheels continue to follow the detective as she rushes for the stairwell, the sudden fear making her taste iron on her tongue. Elbowing her way through the doorway, Gemma glances over her shoulder to see that the maid is back to normal and still talking to two of the guests.

“I think I’m done drinking for a while,” the detective mutters while trying to stop herself from vomiting over the railing.

Each with their own platter of large crab legs, the pair relax at a table next to a window that gives them a clear view of the street. Gemma admits that talking to Roy has helped clear her head of a few questions. Both of them are sure that Dawn is involved in the disappearances and killings even if she is not committing the acts herself. Comparing notes on the Las Vegas and New York City events, they have uncovered several similarities, including the repeated mentioning of a husband that nobody has seen. Neither of them are sure if the man exists or not, but they consider that he is the real killer and Dawn is the one feeding him targets. Having only conjecture and assumptions to work off of, Gemma and Roy get more outlandish with their ideas as the dinner progresses. By the time most of the other dinners have left, the pair are laughing about zombies in the basement and a potential alien invasion. Waving a waiter over, they order more drinks and food that are from the more expensive side of the menu.

“So I took this case because it seemed like an easy paycheck,” Roy explains, using his finger to swirl the ice in his drink. Licking the digit clean, the man returns to battling the crab legs that he swears are more trouble than they are worth. “With so many deaths and disappearances, you’d think the evidence would be easy to find. Not to mention the suspect bolted from the city. She even demolished her casino overnight, which nobody noticed. Maybe Ms. Addison is better at hiding her tracks than I realized.”

“She’s definitely one that shouldn’t be underestimated,” Gemma replies as she nurses her drink. With more ease than her companion, she breaks open a long crab leg and meticulously peels the shell away. “The first two cases weren’t suspicious since accidents happen. It wasn’t until I tried to talk to Ms. Addison that something felt wrong. Can’t put my finger on what it is about her that gives me the creeps. I thought it was her casualness in regards to the deaths, but it’s just a vibe I get from her.”

“She does seem to be carefree and eccentric,” the private investigator points out, scanning the restaurant for any sign of the hotelier. The feeling of being watched returns until he spots a waitress who swiftly returns to the kitchen. “One of the things that I remember from Vegas is that her employees were almost fanatically loyal. Some claimed that they would rather die than betray her. Others actually did die instead of talking to me. Needless to say, I don’t recommend interviewing the staff too aggressively. Then again, you appear to be some kind of pet to her, which you haven’t explained. Have I earned your trust?”

Finishing her drink, Gemma gazes out the window and slips her hand into the pocket that has her notes. Her mind goes back to the riddle that she has yet to figure out, the words seeming more gibberish than hints. Watching Roy by his reflection, the detective can see him patiently waiting for a response. It is the same expression he has had every time he brings up the topic, which seems to be on the hour. Part of her still refuses to put him in any more danger than he already is, the man’s own hunt for Dawn risking the woman’s attention. As someone who has gained the interest of the whimsical serial killer, Gemma is not sure she wants to share her situation with another. Running a finger along the edge of one of her notes, she realizes that she might not have the luxury of being safe and there is nobody else she can turn to for help.

“Ms. Addison seems to think of me as a rival or challenge or simply someone worthy to play with,” Gemma explains with a tired sigh. Turning back to the man, she hands him the notes she took in the morning while holding onto the page with the riddle. “She liked that I was going after her and I believe she had a hand in my vacation. The woman was far too quick to make me an offer to stay here. Then she admitted that she plans on killing somebody and wants to see if I can stop her. That isn’t enough to bring her in because it would be my word against hers. My boss might not side with me since I’ve been rather aggressive towards her, which means I need solid evidence.”

Roy stares open-mouthed at the detective, making her blush until he clears his throat and takes a drink. “Somebody has been watching too many TV shows and movies. Not you in case you were wondering. Geez, I don’t even know how to respond to that. Total brain basher to learn you’re being toyed with by a psycho.”

“It would be easier if I was her target, but she’s going for other people,” she says, holding out the last piece of paper. She unfolds it with one hand, but refuses to let it go out of fear of losing the only lead she has. “This is a riddle about Ms. Addison’s next victim. I am young and old. My kingdom made from circles, squares, and triangles. Many blindly praise me when I create smiles. Others despise me when I forge tears. The only guess I have is that it’s a celebrity or someone who runs a big business. Considering she once talked to me about losing her unicorn, it could even be about a fictional character.”

“I always liked riddles and this one is a challenge,” the black-haired man states, pulling out his own notebook to copy the riddle. Putting spaces between each line, he taps at his temple with the pencil eraser. “You have to take it sentence by sentence. Personally, I would start with the second part because it’s not as vague as the others. The target has made a kingdom that involves those specific shapes. I would say construction. The smiles could be from designing playgrounds and hospitals. In that case, tears would be when the person demolishes something. Maybe they got in trouble with environmentalists?”

“I’m praying she doesn’t go after someone that is high profile.”

“That would definitely make a circus out of the situation.”

“There’s an architect down the hall from me, but she’s pretty young.”

“Yeah, that age thing is throwing me off.”

“What if it means the person is middle-aged?”

“That makes sense.”

“Wait a second. Wouldn’t construction involve more than those three shapes?”

“Could be a specialty.”

Frustration and anger setting in, Gemma begins doodling the shapes on the back of the riddle page. The sloppy drawings do nothing to help, so she tries to make a picture using only circles, triangles, and squares. She can hear Roy chuckling at some of the combinations that remind both of them of a child’s depiction of a house. Realizing that she is only making potential buildings, Gemma attempts to draw things that could be logos or pieces of art. It is not until she puts a circle inside a square and a triangle within the circle that Roy takes her hand. He is still staring at the image as he moves her pencil away and adds more triangles to the middle of the drawing.

“This is ridiculous,” Gemma mutters as she collects the rest of her notes. Chugging her drink in one gulp, she waves at a waiter to get her another. “Do I have to wait for her to order a pizza and try to kill the delivery boy? I guess people would smile when it arrives and get angry if it’s late. Feel free to explain the kingdom and age thing.”

“One of the guests owns a national chain of pizzerias,” Roy answers, keeping his voice to a whisper. Seeing the waiter approach, he finishes his drink and waits for the man to leave before continuing. “His name is Demarcus Lang. He’s a young man who married a slightly older woman. The shapes are a box, a pie, and a slice. People blindly praise this man is a way of saying they appreciate his work without thinking of him specifically. The tears are probably because pizza isn’t considered a healthy food and can make you fat. Not that such a risk would stop me.”

“And how do you know about this guy?” asks the detective while sliding her hand toward a fork. Her suspicions are removed when her companion pulls out his phone and shows her pictures of the guest registry. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Mind if I ask how you got the registry? From what I saw, it was behind the front desk.”

With an impish smile, the proud investigator takes out a pen to write the room number on Gemma’s palm. “They aren’t too careful with their uniforms around here. Snatched one on my first day and snuck around whenever Ms. Addison was at a party or went up to her room. The pictures were tougher, but I only had to look like I was texting.”

“Great. I think it’s best that I do this alone and avoid bringing my new friend’s attention on you,” Gemma says while sliding out of her chair. She moves to check for her gun before remembering that she is unarmed. “Thanks for all of your help. Feel free to order more stuff tonight and put it on my tab. Just tell them that I went to the bathroom or something. Talk to you tomorrow.”