2 Lady Luck Runs Out
Page 3
Crack! The officers popped the door opened.
"Whoa!" They all took a step back, covering their noses and drawing their guns. Will stepped through the front door behind them. One of them called out, identifying the group as police officers.
This was it. I had to do something. I ran up and sat Lucky in the doorway. Then I screamed as only a southern gal can and scooped her back up into my arms. Her large round eyes stared at my face, ears back. I was pretty sure if cats could talk, this one would ask me if I had lost my mind.
The officers wheeled around, startled. "She tried to run in!' I pointed into the living room. "Snake! I just saw a big snake!" Then I took a few steps backwards, off the porch and out onto the lawn. Thankfully they all followed me.
"Darwin, are you sure? It's pretty dark in there," Will said, his voice full of skepticism.
"Yes! I know a snake when I see one." I was stroking the cat nervously, hoping to heavens if the snake had escaped again, and wasn't still in the house, this wouldn't be another notch on the crazy belt for me in Will's eyes.
"What kind of snake?" One of the officers asked with a touch of panic in his voice.
I closed my eyes and recalled the vision from Lucky. "Dark colored with white patterns on it. Big. Very big." I opened my eyes, hoping that was enough information for them to know it was the dangerous kind.
They had re-holstered their weapons and were staring at Will, waiting for a verdict.
Finally, Will nodded. "All right. Something has definitely gone wrong in there. Let's not take any chances. We'll get a trapper out here to go in first." He walked over and pulled the door closed. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
As we waited for the trapper, Will and I chatted by his car. "We still on for dinner Saturday night?"
I looked over at Mallory, who was having her own little chat with a young officer. Oh boy, I wasn't sure I could handle Mallory loose in St. Pete. I wasn't sure St. Pete could handle it either. "Sure. I guess I'll have to bring my little sister if she's still here." And just hope that she'd behave herself.
"I don't mind. I enjoy the alone time with you but it'd be nice to get to know someone from your family. Since you never talk about them."
I saw the teasing glint in his eye. There's a reason I don't talk about them. Will has made it clear he doesn't believe in psychics or paranormal stuff of any kind. I'm not ready to possibly lose him over the things about my family I can't control. I made a tactical move and changed the subject. "You don't talk about your family, either."
Before he could answer, a white pick-up truck rambled up and parked in the driveway. A man hopped out wearing cowboy boots, his gray hair pulled back into a ponytail and holding a long, metal stick in his hand. He strode over and held out the other hand to Will.
"Name's Duncan. Someone call about a snake?"
Will shook his hand. "Detective Blake." Then he pointed to Rose's condo. "We're not positive, but don't want to take any chances. Miss Winters here thinks she saw a large, dark snake with a white pattern in the living room. We're not sure if the owner of the condo is home. There's been a report of a foul odor from her residence and no one has seen her for a few days. So..." Will's mouth pinched into a worried line.
"Gotcha." The man said, nodding. "All righty. I'll check it out." The other officers gathered around as we all watched him open the door.
"Pfffweeey!" His reaction easily carried through the night air. He pulled the bandana around his neck up over his nose and then disappeared inside.
Some of the other neighbors had started coming out to see what all the fuss was about. Will questioned them about the last time they saw Rose Faraday. The same answers. Not for a few days.
Suddenly the gathered crowd took a collective breath inward as Duncan stepped back through the door holding up his pole. On the end of it hung a large, fat snake at least seven foot long. Its tail writhed around, rattling angrily.
I glanced at Will. His mouth dropped open. Everyone seemed frozen as Duncan carried the thing over to his truck and pulled a large sack from the back bed. "She's a beaut, eh? Eastern Diamondback," he called. "By the way..." he slipped the bag over the snake and tied it with a yank, then put it in the back of his truck. He walked over to Will and leaned in to him. "I'm sorry to tell ya you got a victim in there. I'm no expert on people, but I know a snake bite when I see one."
"Go." Will nodded to the officers. "Thank you for coming out, Duncan."
"Yep. Good thing you fellows didn't walk in there unaware. This gal is not a happy camper."
Will glanced down at me and smiled gratefully.
I shrugged, though my legs were shaking. Yeah, good thing. "So, is this kind of snake common in this area?" I asked Duncan.
"I wouldn't say common but not unheard of. We got a ten footer crossing the street about ten miles north of here. They're losing their natural habitat so man's going to have more and more run-ins with 'em."
Darn. So, finding the snake didn't prove that someone let it in the condo on purpose. Will could feasibly believe it made it in there on its own. "What's going to happen to the snake now?"
"I've got a buddy with a license to house poisonous reptiles. I'll take her on over to him. She'll be part of public education."
After Duncan drove off with the murder weapon, the officers came back out and confirmed Rose Faraday's demise.
"She definitely was bitten by the rattlesnake. No cage, so don't think it was a pet. I'll call in the ME and crime scene unit," one of the officers said. The mood was low.
"I'll be here for awhile." Will rubbed my arm. "I'll call you later, okay?"
"Yeah, guess we'll head out." I gave him a small smile. Another truck pulled up. A reporter. Yep, time to get out of here.
"Fisch, let's get the crime scene tape up," Will called.
"Good luck." I gave him a quick kiss goodbye and we headed out.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning brought Frankie into the boutique with a newspaper in her hand. "Darwin! Looks like you had an exciting night, Child. Why didn't you call me?"
Frankie had quickly become one of my dearest friends since moving here. She was a former homeless woman who had won the lottery. She deserved it. She had a heart of gold, despite her eccentricities. Normally I welcomed her enthusiasm, but I was still working on my first cup of tea so I wasn't feeling like the sharpest tool in the shed. Lucky had howled most of the night and the emergency flower essence only succeeded in expanding the times between crying, not stopping it. My brain was still in first gear.
As I stared at her over the counter, Frankie smoothed out the front page of the paper in front of me. There was a photo of Rose Faraday's condo draped in police tape. Inlaid in the corner of the shot was a picture of Rose, obviously done professionally. She looked to be about in her fifties, a bit on the chunky side with dark eyes and dark hair. I skimmed the article, seeing my name mentioned as the person who found her cat and alerted the authorities.
"How did they know my name?" I groaned. When Will called me late last night, he assured me he didn't give them my name. Notoriety was something I tried to avoid in this town. I had enough of that back in Savannah.
Two more of our regular customers rushed through the door. "Darwin, we want the whole scoop."
Frankie chuckled and shot me a sympathetic smile. "Try to think of it as free advertising."
"There really is no scoop, ladies." I shrugged. "My sister and I found Rose's cat last night and tried to return it to her. Her neighbor told Detective Blake that Rose hadn't been seen in a few days and, when she mentioned a suspicious smell, Will called for backup. They went in and found out she had been... deceased."
"Did you say 'your sister'?" Frankie asked.
I nodded and tried not to roll my eyes. "I'll fill you in later."
"Aren't you leaving out one very weird point?" Sarah Applebaum squealed, squeezing her Shih Tzu protectively to her chest. "Death by snake bite in her own house? Just freaky. What are the odds?"
r /> "Gawd, could you imagine?" Patrice Patterson scoffed. "You think you're safe in your own home. Then bam... some crazy thing like a snake attack." Patrice raised exotic birds which, with her beaklike nose and small black eyes, seemed very fitting.
"You're so right." I thought maybe it would be a good idea after all to push the "freakish" thing. Someone needed to investigate this further. If I couldn't make the authorities suspicious, that someone would have to be me. Again. "I didn't think of it that way, Patrice, but it is a freak thing. How do you suppose a snake could get into someone's home anyway? Seems very unlikely."
Another customer came through the door, joining in the conversation. This was going to be a long day. I heard Sylvia's heels clicking on the floor behind me as she came out of the back.
"I say she was cursed." Sylvia threw in when she heard our topic."Playing around with those psychic things. Is not good idea."
I lifted my head. "She was a psychic?"
"Obviously not a very good one," Sarah chuckled. "Didn't see that coming."
"Sarah!" Patrice said, though she was trying to fight a smirk. "Respect for the dead."
"That was how she made a living, yeah," Frankie offered. "She did tarot card readings at parties. I never met her, but she was recommended to me by my masseuse. Said she was always dead on." Frankie's face drained at her choice of words. "I mean...accurate. Lord have mercy. I'm gonna get a cup of tea. Wake up my brain."
"Well, I think it's strange that it happened around the devil's holiday! And by a "serpent"? Tell me that's not symbolic!" Patrice's brow raised.
"Oh, poo, Halloween is not the devil's holiday, Patrice." Sarah rolled her eyes. "Don't be so superstitious."
"Oh yeah, then why the increase in weird things happening?" She reached over and flipped the paper to an inside section, tapping it with an acrylic nail. "Did you see this at the Travelers Palm Inn last night?"
I glanced down, did a double take and cringed. It was a photo of the energy ball Mallory had created. This instant journalism thing with cell phones was getting really out of hand.
"Someone on one of those ghost tours snapped this last night. A big ball of fire that tried to attack them. How do you explain that?" Patrice gave the growing crowd of women a self-satisfied smile.
"On Halloween, the devil comes and gives you bad luck," one of the newcomers offered.
Attacked them? Bad luck? Oh good heavens. Should I tell them I was there and dispel the whole attack thing? No, I decided. Better to not be attached to another weird story. I kept silent.
By the end of the morning, I was on edge from the stream of questions. The pet boutique had stayed busy with people who wanted the scoop on Rose's death. I wanted to strangle that reporter. At least some of them actually purchased items while digging for information. One of Rose Faraday's neighbors even ordered a birthday cake, one of my newest experiments, for her ten year old Schnauzer. I guess snooping was good for the pet boutique's business after all.
In the afternoon Mallory grew bored hanging out by herself upstairs and decided to help me in the boutique. After her enthusiastic account of our ghost hunting experience to a few customers, I sent her back up to the townhouse to make some Halloween decorations for the boutique windows. Creativity was her strong point. Thinking before speaking was not.
CHAPTER SIX
By Friday, Sylvia and I were exhausted. We were falling behind on tasks like unpacking shipments and tracking inventory and the place was a wreck. We had decided we would need to hire someone for seasonal help. Mallory was great with the customers and had learned how to ring up their purchases, but I still felt uneasy having her around. To me, she was like a time bomb just waiting to blow up any sense of normalcy in my new life here.
Friday evening, I stood in the kitchen opening a can of tuna while Lucky perched on the kitchen bar, staring up at me with those intense eyes, mewing loudly. She was either complaining that we left her alone today, or I wasn't wielding the can opener fast enough.
Mallory sat on the bar stool, stroking her guitar and humming. She paused at one of Lucky's more insistent yowls. "Hey, we should get her a scratching post or something. I bet she gets bored."
I glanced up sharply. "Lucky can't stay here, Mal." What I meant was Mallory couldn't stay here. Her use of the word "we" had got my shackles up. I loved her but I really needed her to buy a return ticket home.
"Where's she going to go? You know how hard it is to adopt out black cats. Especially traumatized ones."
Mallory had a point. Lucky moved about the townhouse by vaulting from the furniture and counters, or by Mallory carrying her around. She wouldn't actually walk on the floor. Besides still crying off and on through the night, she jumped at every noise, like the refrigerator kicking on. "I was thinking you could take her back home with you. Since the only time she comes near me is when I'm opening her tuna can."
Mallory stopped strumming to throw me one of her signature eye rolls. "Oh yeah, I'm sure Mom would just love for me to bring another cat in the house."
"You know Mom can't say no to you. You can talk her into anything." I felt Mallory's energy heat up. Offended. Changing the subject, I watched Lucky delicately mouth the tuna. Seemed like it was the only time she could really forget about the rotten luck in her life recently. "Hey, I have to make a birthday cake tonight for Mrs. Shoster's shnauzer, Snookie."
"Ha! Say that five times fast." Mallory snorted.
I returned her smile as I pulled out a bag of organic carrots. "Grate these for me while I mix up the rest of the ingredients, would you?"
I preheated the oven and retrieved a large glass mixing bowl from the cabinet. As I pulled eggs from the fridge and peanut butter, rice flour and vegetable oil from the pantry, Mallory shook her head. "Good grief, Darwin, is Mrs. Shoster going to feed this cake to her human friends, too?"
I scooped out a big glob of peanut butter. "If they're brave enough to try it, they certainly could."
Mallory's cell phone rang. She wrapped the washed carrots up in a dishtowel so nosey Lucky wouldn't start nibbling on them and pulled her phone from her pocket.
"Hey, Willow. What's up?"
My heart felt like a giant fist was squeezing it as Mallory walked into the living room to talk to our sister. I dabbed at my eyes with a dishtowel. We had all been so close before I left Savannah and now Mallory was the only one speaking to me. I wasn't so sure her motives were pure, either. Was she just here to spy on me? To ruin it for me so I had to come crawling back to Savannah?
I chastised myself and squashed that thought. No matter how mad my family was at me, I knew they wouldn't sabotage my happiness. Not on purpose anyway. I sighed and envied Lucky as she began the process of her after meal bath, her rough pink tongue starting with a paw. If only life were just about eating, bathing and sleeping, how simple it would be.
When Mallory came back to the kitchen, she was quieter.
"Everything okay?" I asked, turning off the mixer.
"Yeah, fine. Just..." she began grating the carrots over a bowl. "Grandma Winters had a small accident. Fractured her wrist in a fall. She was supposed to visit at the end of the month, but that'll be postponed."
"Oh, that's terrible." I cracked an extra egg into the batter. "She knows I left home, I assume?"
"Yep." Mallory used her elbow to nudge Lucky away from the bowl. "She hasn't said anything about it one way or the other though. If you were wondering."
I nodded. If there was one person I didn't want mad at me, it was Grandma Winters. I would have to remember to send her a get well card and one of these days stop being such a scaredy-cat and give her a call.
I hadn't noticed how dark it had gotten in the place until a row of candles on the far end of the bar sparked and ignited one after the other. I raised an eyebrow at my sister.
"Mal, you can't do stuff like that around here." I didn't mention how impressed I was. She'd obviously been practicing since I left.
"It's just us," she sighed, grating the
carrots faster. "I don't understand why you're so embarrassed, you know if people could choose to have magick they would in a heartbeat."
"It's not that simple. People judge those who are different. They fear what they don't understand. Don't you ever get tired of being judged and treated like a pariah in Savannah?"
"Nope," Mallory said, handing me the bowl of grated carrots. "I could care less what people think about me or our family. I guess that's the difference between us."
Sighing, I shook the carrots into the mix and stirred. Mallory went back to playing her guitar. Lucky had her back legs stretched out, working on bathing her underbelly with her pink, sandpaper tongue. I poured the mix into a fire hydrant shaped cake pan and popped it into the oven. Mrs. Shoster wanted it delivered at noon tomorrow. She lived three condos down from where Rose Faraday had lived. I thought about that large snake pulled from her condo, wriggling on the end of the trapper's pole. Someone had let it in there on purpose. Who would do such a thing? And why?
CHAPTER SEVEN
By 11:30 a.m. the yogurt-frosted cake was decorated and packed in a box adorned with blue ribbon, ready to be delivered. Since this was my first cake delivery I had failed to work out one little detail. I didn't have a car. Even if I did, I didn't actually know how to drive so it wouldn't do me much good.
I pulled my bike off the balcony, brought it into the kitchen and rigged a picnic basket to the back of it.
"That's how you make deliveries?" Mallory asked from her perch on the sofa. Both she and Lucky, curled up on her stomach, were staring at me like I had grown an extra head. "You're worried about your reputation here? You look like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz."
"In case you haven't noticed, Mal, this is St. Pete. There are way more odd characters here than a girl delivering a cake on a bike. I'll be fine."