“Yeah? How is she?”
Emma had told Sam all about Janice when they had gone paint shopping and how she thought of the girl as almost family. The two were closer than Lully and Emma had ever been. “Still looking for a job. I hope she finds one soon—I don’t want her discouraged.” She sailed into the kitchen and reached for cups and saucers in the cabinet, but one tipped and crashed to the floor.
“You okay?” He called from the parlor.
“I broke a cup!”
She started to the pantry for the broom, and then remembered the dustpan with a brush that fit into its handle under the sink. She knelt to open the cabinet door and reached inside for the pan. But instead of feeling an enameled dustpan, she felt something slick. Something slick … and thick … and then it moved. She felt again, frowning. It moved again.
Shrieking, she jerked and fell backward, sprawling across the floor. She watched with horror as a thick coil of reptile slithered out of the cabinet, almost on her foot, then another length followed, along with a triangular-shaped head. The snake’s head turned in her direction, its tongue flicking out. Hysteria choked her. Was the reptile poisonous? Would it strike her if she moved?
Another coil fell out of the cabinet, spilling over her foot. Nausea clawed at the back of her throat. Please, God, don’t let it come any closer.
The snake slid off her foot, but lay, waiting. Somewhere in her mind a voice told her this was no ordinary snake. Certainly not the little garden snakes she was used to finding around the yard when she was a child. She’d never seen anything like this except in a zoo!
Mentally, she called Sam. Help me! But she was frozen. The snake lay perfectly still, except for its flicking tongue.
“Don’t move a muscle.” Sam’s soft voice sounded from the doorway.
Choking back sobs, Emma couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it. She was vaguely aware of Sam easing around to her right. He’d pulled out his revolver.
Shoot, Sam! she silently urged. Do something!
The shot echoed through the house, shattering Emma’s eardrums. The snake’s head exploded, and Emma fainted. When she awoke, Sam was holding her in his arms. For a moment she didn’t know why he was holding her so tightly. She lay with her head against his chest, held there by one big hand against the side of her face, her forehead pressed against his cheek. She heard his heartbeat, felt the strength of his arms, heard him saying, “It’s okay,” over and over in a gentle tone. She didn’t want to move. She wanted to remain here forever.
Then she remembered the snake and struggled to sit up.
“It’s okay, Emma,” Sam said again, more firmly. “It’s gone.”
“What was it?”
“A boa constrictor. A big one.”
Emma shivered. Then she realized that they were in the parlor on the sofa. “What happened?”
“You fainted.”
“I always faint at the sight of snakes falling out of my cabinets.”
“At least you still have your sense of humor.” He smiled, releasing her to sit up.
Eyes closed, she raked her fingers through her hair. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
“I don’t know where a snake that size would come from around here.”
Her gaze met his. “Thank you,” she whispered, remembering that he’d disposed of the threat quickly.
He cupped her chin in his hand and leaned toward her, kissing her lightly. “How about that coffee now?”
Emma tried to relax while Sam reheated the coffee. Her heart was beating a mile a second. Had someone deliberately put the snake into the house—or worse, had Emma been living with it for days—weeks? She shuddered. “How did that thing get in here?” she asked.
“Who knows? Could have been here a long time, or you left the door open and it crawled in—”
“I don’t leave the door open long enough for something like that to crawl in. Lully. I wouldn’t put it past her to have something like that for a pet.”
He sat down opposite her at the kitchen table. “Hey.”
“Hey what?” She stared into her empty cup.
“We need to talk.”
She groaned, “About the house? Come on, Sam. I still feel faint—”
“I’m not talking about the house. I have a feeling you’re not going to sell if the place brought a million dollars.”
She smiled sheepishly.
“Don’t think that’s so out of order,” he warned. “Speculators are circling like vultures now, vultures with money in their pockets.”
“Then what do you want to talk about?”
“A decision. A firm decision and soon.” His eyes darkened. “The mayor is hot under the collar; time-share people are ringing the phone off the hook. I can’t take much more, Emma. You have to decide what route you’re taking and stick with it. It’s your decision.”
She gazed at him. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
“But I thought you wanted the parking lot.”
“I still think a parking lot makes the most sense, and I’m not going to say I don’t want you to stay. I’d like to see the town prosper and grow but I don’t intend to fight you on the matter anymore. It’s your home; the decision is yours. Let’s try to make one before the town takes up arms.”
She reached over and grasped his hand. Electricity flowed. “Thank you.”
His eyes met hers. “I don’t know what more I have to do to convince you that I’m not your enemy.”
“Nothing—I know you’re not, Sam. Just bear with me. It’s my town too, you know. I want to keep the house, yet I want what’s best for all concerned. There’s Janice to think about … and your mother …”
Why did a simple will have to make life so complicated?
Mayor Crane occupied a ten-year-old, contemporary, ranch-style house on the outskirts of town, where an attempt had been made to create a housing development a few years earlier. The idea never quite worked out. Sam drove the cruiser down a street lit by an occasional streetlight, where only three houses lined the unfinished sidewalks. The place had a lonely, abandoned feel. But Thomas Crane still held hope for the development. Sam had to give him credit for persistence.
He agreed with His Honor on many fronts. The town had to stay ahead of the times, or at least catch up. Their young people left as soon as they graduated high school, either to find jobs elsewhere or to attend college, never to return. There needed to be something to hold them here, something that wouldn’t also bring pollution and urban sprawl. The mayor wasn’t as picky, and the banker would loan money to anyone new coming into town. The corner of Sam’s mouth turned down. Anyone, it seemed, except Emma Mansi.
He wheeled into the mayor’s drive and parked. After ringing the doorbell he stood looking toward the mountains. He liked everything about Serenity, even the winters. He’d been one of the few who had returned to stay. But then, he enjoyed his job and being part of the community. He had responsibilities and some family. He had a good life here. Only one thing was missing—a woman he could love and trust, and children.
“Sam, how nice to see you!”
Vinita Crane, a petite woman, was a bird-watcher. She always reminded Sam of one of her subjects. At the moment she peered up at him with her bright blue eyes, her head tilted inquisitively to one side.
“Mrs. Crane. Is Buddy home?”
“Why, yes. He isn’t in any trouble is he? I would be really upset—”
“No not at all. I need to ask him a couple of questions.”
“He’s in his room. Come in, and I’ll get him for you.”
“Thanks.”
Sam waited in a living room that was too full of furniture to be comfortable and too fussy for a man’s taste. Somehow he’d never been able to picture the mayor in this room.
The Cranes’ fourteen-year-old son, Buddy, trailed down the hall behind his mother, dragging his heels.
“Now Buddy, you answer all the sheriff’s questions. Sam, would you like somethi
ng hot to drink? The weather’s bitter outside.” She peered at him with sparrow-like eyes.
Knowing he’d not get a few minutes alone with the boy unless Vinita had something to do, he asked if she had any coffee on hand. She didn’t, but allowed that she had instant. Sam hated instant—gave him heartburn—but it would buy him a few moments of privacy.
When Mrs. Crane fluttered away toward the back of the house, Sam motioned for Buddy to sit. “I understand you have a new hobby.”
Buddy pursed his lips and refused to meet the sheriff’s eyes. “What new hobby?”
“You bought a boa constrictor a couple of weeks ago. About eight feet long?”
“Oh, yeah, I did.” The boy’s eyes narrowed. “How’d you know?”
“Talked to Lloyd at the pet store this morning. He said you’d ordered one a couple weeks back.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Lloyd’s got a big mouth.”
“Do you keep the snake in your room?”
“I was gonna.” Buddy shifted, looking away.
“But you didn’t?” Sam couldn’t imagine Vinita allowing the boy to keep anything that size in the house, caged or not. Could the boa have been stolen?
“Nah. Sold it. Mom wouldn’t let me keep it—freaked out when she saw it and yelled at me to get rid of it.”
“You sold the boa?”
“Uh-huh.”
“When did you sell it?”
“A couple of days after I bought it. Found out it was hibernating. That’s no fun. Lloyd didn’t tell me that.”
“Who did you sell it to?” Sam’s internal alarm went off.
Whoever bought the boa could be the same person who was harassing Emma.
The youth shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Bud, you know everybody in town.”
“Guy had a ski mask on. I couldn’t tell who he was. He was standing outside of school one day, and he asked if I had a boa. I said yes and he offered to buy it.”
It was cold outside; a ski mask wouldn’t be unusual.
“Height? Color of his eyes. Anything? Did he pay cash?”
Buddy shrugged. “He had brown eyes, I think. Tall, I think. Paid cash.”
“Tall and brown eyes” eliminated a few people, but the description was too vague to be useful. Just then the front door opened, and the mayor whipped in with a blast of cold air.
“Sam.” The mayor set his ever-present briefcase down inside the door and extended his hand. “How are you doing?” He glanced at his son. “Any problem here?”
“None at all Tom. I was asking Bud about the boa he bought from Lloyd and then sold.”
The mayor frowned. “No law against owning a pet.”
“No. Except a boa ended up under Emma Mansi’s sink, and I’m kinda curious about how it got there.”
Crane’s eyes widened. “Someone put a snake in the Mansi house? Why?”
“If it was a prank to scare her, it worked. But it was dangerous, too. I want to know who and how and why.”
“Have you talked to the party who bought Buddy’s snake?”
Sam shook his head. “Don’t know who it is yet. Not a good enough description.”
“Well that’s a real shame.” Tom turned back to look at his son. “You’ve told the sheriff all you know?”
“Everything,” Bud declared, eyes shifting to his feet. “I don’t know what the person did with the snake. Mom said get rid of it and I did.”
“Sorry about the incident, but I’m sure Buddy has nothing further to offer on the subject.” He glanced at his son. “Have you finished your homework?”
“Not yet—”
“Then get to it.”
The boy pushed himself to his feet and sauntered down the hall with his heels dragging, laces untied. The mayor frowned before turning back to Sam. He ushered him to the front door.
“Sorry Emma had a scare.” His features sobered. “Have you talked sense into her yet?”
“Emma’s got enough sense to make her own decisions.”
Tom frowned. “You do recall our conversation the other night?”
“Oh sure. I recall the conversation.” Sam slipped his hat on. “And I’m sure you recall my response.”
“Look, Gold. I’m not an unreasonable man. I won’t push, within reason. One of these days she’ll be ready to accept anything reasonable so she can get back to Seattle and her job. She does still have a job there—”
“She owns the place. Winter in a greenhouse is a slow time of year, I’m told.”
“Sam, this is not a joking matter. What if she should decide to sell to some flake and they turn that piece of property into a … a zoo or a … a nudist colony—”
“She wouldn’t do that to Serenity.”
“How can you be so sure? She doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about our needs.”
“Maybe she’s thinking more about her needs; the need to hold on to what she has left of her family.”
“Well, I think she’d want all this settled so she could get on with her life. What was all that business about the zoning laws? She isn’t thinking of putting in a business herself, is she? I mean, after all, Lully had that silly jewelry business, funny-looking stuff, but then those Mansi girls were always a little strange.”
The mayor’s attitude bothered Sam. “I don’t see anything odd about them. Lully was talented and Emma’s an intelligent woman.”
“Well, you know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. What do you mean?”
“Would Emma entertain a higher offer? I suppose we could scrape together another twenty thousand.”
“Money isn’t a factor in her decision.”
“Then for goodness sakes, what is?”
Sam shook his head. “You’d have to talk to Emma about that—”
“But you’re part owner of the house. You have some influence. She should feel fortunate to get anything out of that place. Why, the land is the only thing that has any value. That snake probably escaped from whoever bought it and it was looking for a warm place to sleep through the winter.”
Sam remembered seeing Crane and the banker snooping around Emma’s backyard last Sunday. He wondered if the mayor wanted the house so badly he’d resort to dirty tricks like this. Sam asked, “Know anything about snakes, Tom?”
“Me? Nothing more than Buddy mentioned.” He opened the door. “You let me know what you find out about her bottom sale price. I’m through beating around the bush—let’s get this thing settled.”
Sam noted the mayor’s impatience. “Do you know someone other than the town who’s interested in the property?”
“Everyone. I’ve been flooded with calls from land developers. Time-share folks. Got a man coming down next week to talk to Emma—I’m sure you’ll be included in the discussions.”
“I’m sure I will be,” Sam said.
The mayor pursed his lips in contemplation as he studied Sam’s face. “Looks to me like you and Emma are picking up where you left off fifteen years ago.”
Sam settled his hat on his head and stepped off the porch. “Thanks for the information, Tom. I’ll get back with you.”
“See that you do now.” The mayor leaned out of the screen door. “And don’t forget, you’re a public official—your loyalty belongs to your job, not some old flame—”
Sam got into the cruiser and slammed the door. As he drove back to the office, he turned the conversations he’d had with Buddy and Tom over in his mind. Had Bud really sold the boa to someone? Or had he dumped it and made up the story for his father? The mayor seemed to take Emma’s scare in stride, more interested in the house than in her. Did Tom have something to do with the pranks?
It didn’t seem probable that the mayor would be involved in such childish endeavors—after all, his job would be compromised if he were found out. But Sam wasn’t ignoring anything at this point. Whoever was trying to scare Emma was succeeding. If getting the price of the house down to bargain bas
ement was the motive behind the pranks, then he was afraid they were going to succeed. Spiders and snakes were seriously creepy things to most people—and possibly even dangerous. Pigs were a nuisance, but the incident sure put Emma in a blue funk.
One thing he knew for certain: he was going to find out who was responsible and why. Weird things were happening, and that had to stop.
Sam bumped into Emma at Brisco’s that evening. She’d stopped off for a sandwich after closing the bookstore.
“Hi cupcake,” he said, sliding into her booth across from her.
She already had a cup of tea in front of her; both hands wrapped around the steaming heat.
“Doing okay?” he said.
“Fine—as long as I don’t think about that snake crawling out from beneath my sink.”
He grinned. She had grit. The snake had thoroughly shaken her. And him. He wasn’t overly fond of anything that size that slithered.
“Have you been able to discover how it got there?” she asked.
“Not really. Lloyd sold a couple of boas. I located one, but the other was an out-of-state purchase and I haven’t found out yet to whom.”
“Someone here in Serenity bought one?”
“Seems so. I’m tracking them—”
“Sam? Who bought a boa constrictor here in Serenity?”
“Buddy Crane for one, but he says he resold his within a few days and doesn’t know who bought it.”
“Doesn’t know? How could he not know?”
“A man approached him outside the school not long after he bought the snake and paid him cash.” She threw him a skeptical look and he continued. “He wore a ski mask. Bud couldn’t give me a decent description.”
“A ski mask?”
“It’s winter, Emma. A ski mask wouldn’t be unusual. Buddy thought nothing of it.”
“And you believe him? Not that I’m saying he’s misleading you, but doesn’t that sound a bit fishy?”
“A little, but if Buddy sticks to his story, there’s no way I can prove he’s lying. I have to assume he’s telling the truth.”
“I know, it’s just—that thing really scared me. It could have eaten Gismo!” She shivered at the memory of the reptile. How long had it lurked in the house? How long had it been under the sink? “Who’s doing this to me, Sam? And why?”
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