The Fake Heiress and Her Purrfect Partner novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11

“The head was still there,” the short giraffe confirmed with a solemn nod. “That guy was completely insane. He pulled out a small knife and methodically sawed off the head, bit by bit. It was seriously gruesome.”

Nina’s eyes widened in shock. The killer had actually severed the victim’s head right inside the Tiger Enclosure.

“That man was laughing the whole time he was hacking at the neck,” the short giraffe continued, his voice trembling slightly. “We giraffes usually sleep standing up, but I was so terrified I had to pretend I was asleep.”

Even now, recalling the memory sent a shiver down the short giraffe’s spine. “My legs felt like jelly,” he admitted, “and I was scared he’d notice something was wrong with me.”

Nina reached into her backpack and pulled out her sketchbook along with her trusty pencil.

She had been drawing ever since she was a child. Her parents had encouraged her to study skeletal structures, which helped her prepare for vet school. Over time, she had become quite skilled at capturing portraits—both human and animal.

Her plan was to sketch the zoo’s animals and staff to become more familiar with them.

“So, did you get a good look at the killer while he was cleaning up?” she asked, her voice gentle but curious.

Giraffes’ eyes were positioned high and wide on their heads, giving them a panoramic view, almost like living security cameras.

“Yeah, I saw him clearly!” the short giraffe said eagerly. “He took off his cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His skin wasn’t dark. And unlike you, his nose was flat and kind of unnoticeable.”

“His eyes were nothing like yours,” he added, glancing at Nina. “Yours are big and bright, like a baby deer’s. His were squinty, like those little Tibetan foxes we have in the zoo—just tiny slits.”

Right then, the tall giraffe swung his long leg and gave the short one a playful kick. “Seriously, you always look a bit clueless. And you’ve only said a couple of words, yet you’re already trying to impress the boss?”

The short giraffe looked genuinely hurt by the jab. “I’m not trying to suck up! I mean it—she’s really pretty.”

Flustered, the tall giraffe flicked his tail at him. “Enough with the flattery already!”

Nina watched their playful exchange and couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Don’t worry, I treat all my animals the same.” Then, curious, she asked, “Are you two brothers?”

The tall giraffe shook his head. “No, not family—just coworkers.”

The short giraffe’s eyes flashed with a hint of disappointment. “But… aren’t we gossip buddies?”

Nina understood immediately. These two were just colleagues who enjoyed sharing gossip about the tourists, but the tall one was too proud to admit it. She shifted the conversation. “How tall was the killer?”

The tall giraffe jumped in without hesitation, “About a head shorter than the fence around the Tiger Enclosure.”

The short giraffe nodded. “Yeah, Little Crow was probably hoping to snack on the brains and eyeballs from that head.”

Nina shuddered but understood. Crows were scavengers and loved soft, squishy things like eyes and brains.

Her eyes sparkled with determination. “Where does Little Crow usually hang out? Is he around now? Can we find him?”

“He’s right here, along the path where you came in—the biggest birch tree, you can’t miss it,” said the tall giraffe.

Nina carefully packed up her sketchbook and pencil, giving the giraffes’ necks a gentle pat as they leaned in closer. “Thanks for all your help. I’ll make sure you get some extra treats tomorrow.”

Soon, Nina spotted the massive birch tree the giraffes had described. “Little Crow, are you home?” she called softly, holding up the portrait. “Do you know where the head got dumped?”

The tree stood silent. ‘That’s odd,’ Nina thought. ‘The giraffes said he should be here now!’ She blinked, wondering if she’d come empty-handed—no gifts, no clues.

Remembering that crows loved shiny objects, Nina searched her pockets and found the last coin from her bus fare. She dropped it on the ground, the crisp clang echoing in the quiet air, hoping the sound would catch Little Crow’s attention.

She held her breath and waited, but the tree remained still—no sign of movement at all.