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class, we started kindergarten together. I don’t remember how we first met or how we became friends—all I know is we were inseparable until we graduated.” She smiled, her eyes a million miles away, lost in memory. “She always liked animals. She always wanted to be a vet or something, you know, work with animals. She always liked animals better than people. She went to Berkeley, and she really changed there—I don’t know what it was. I mean, she was in Greenpeace for a while”—she inhaled—“and I joined because of her, you know. But Greenpeace isn’t the same as AFAR. But AFAR wasn’t originally what it is now, either. Your father and I were two of the original members of AFAR, and we donated a lot of money over the years. But as much as I believe animals should be treated ethically, I don’t believe you have the right to destroy personal property. Or harm people to prove your point. That pizza smells good.”
    I flipped open the box. “Help yourself. But it’s not vegetarian.”
    “I’m so hungry I don’t care,” Mom said, grabbing a slice and taking a healthy bite, strings of mozzarella stretching from the slice to her mouth. “Storm, I wish you’d give Hope a call. She’s really going to need some help. You know the police are just going to turn on her once they find out who her mother is.”
    “After I eat, Mom.” Storm took a slice.
    “How come I’ve never met Hope?” I asked. “Or ever heard of her before today?”
    Mom sighed. “Veronica has never married, you know. She’s never, as long as I’ve known her, had a long-term relationship with a man. It’s like she always thought all they were good for was sex.” She laughed. “And some aren’t even good for that. I was really surprised when she told me she was pregnant. AFAR had already started liberating animals from testing labs by then, and your father and I were distancing ourselves from the organization. She wasn’t married, and she didn’t tell me who the father was.” She took another bite of the pizza. “The baby was about three when that security guard got killed. Her parents sued for custody and won, like I said, and got that restraining order against Veronica so she couldn’t see her own daughter. Her father died shortly after—your grandfather believes knowing his daughter was a murderer is what killed Albert Porterie—and his wife moved away from New Orleans. I think she wanted to get away from where everyone knew they were related to Veronica. I can’t say as I blame them.” She tossed the crust back into the box. “Funny that she wound up a veterinary student, don’t you think? Just goes to show, you can’t escape your genes.”
    “So, you do know her, Mom?” Frank took another slice of pizza and wiped grease from his chin.
    Mom nodded. “I made a point of inviting her down to New Orleans when I found out she was coming back to school here.” She glanced at me. “I stayed in touch with Veronica’s mother, even after she…after that security guard was killed. She was my friend, I wanted to make sure, you know, that her daughter was okay. Veronica never tried to get in touch, in all of those years…” She glanced over at the television. “Taking the tiger—it is the kind of thing they’d do.” She sighed. “But how do you kidnap a tiger in bright daylight? Surely someone had to notice them driving that tiger around; it’s not like his cage isn’t garish.”
    “All you’d need is an eighteen-wheeler.” I shrugged as I took a drink of my soda. “With a hydraulic lift, I guess, you could haul the trailer into the back, and once you pull the door down, voilà. No one can see the tiger, and you’re just another truck driving down the road. The question is, where can you keep a tiger that people wouldn’t notice?”
    “A barn somewhere,” Frank pointed out. “If you’re out in the country and you have a barn on the property, you can just leave the tiger in the cage and, you know, throw