by Hope Ramsay
Dash looked down at the bills on his desk. “Savannah’s ex-mother-in-law isn’t too wild about her moving down here. I gather that she wants the kid to go to some fancy prep school in Baltimore. But I don’t think Savannah’s mother-in-law would put snakes in The Kismet’s projection room.”
“Probably not. And that’s my problem, Dash.”
“You think it’s someone local?”
Stone shook his head and let go of a big sigh. “Who else has keys to the place?”
“Savannah has keys. And I also have a set. I reckon that makes me a person of interest.”
Stone didn’t laugh. Dash went on alert. “Stone, I didn’t put snakes in the theater.”
“I’m inclined to believe you, but I have to investigate every lead. And right now, you are probably my main suspect.”
“Why would I put snakes in the theater?”
“Well, because you don’t like Savannah, and everyone knows that. And then there’s the whole TV angle.”
“TV?”
Stone’s lips quivered slightly, but it wasn’t a full-fledged smile. “Obviously you missed the local news. Bubba got footage of you snake wrangling, and WLTX ran it as an eyewitness report on the late local news last night. Lizzy says the video’s gone viral on YouTube.”
“Do you really think I would do something like that for publicity?”
“To be honest, Dash, I don’t know what to think. All the coverage has created a cascade of additional problems. You see, the environmentalists and conservationists, not to mention the anti-animal-cruelty people, have all mobilized and now Lurleen can’t hardly keep up with the paperwork because the phone is ringing all the time.”
Dash squared his shoulders and spoke as earnestly as he could. “I’m sorry, Stone. But I didn’t put those snakes in the projection room. If I wanted to scare Savannah, I would have used a much less dangerous snake.”
Stone nodded. “Well, for what it’s worth, I believe you. But I have to investigate. And I have a much bigger problem, because if you didn’t do this as a very nasty practical joke, then who did do it, and why?”
“Maybe it was kids or something.”
“I don’t think kids could get their hands on western diamondbacks all that easily.” Stone stood up. “Well, if you get any ideas on who might be responsible, you know where to find me. I’m sorry about the bad publicity, but I have to do my job.”
“Are you going to talk to Savannah about this?”
“You know I have to.”
“Great. Just great. She’s going to think the worst of me.”
“I’m sorry, Dash, I truly am.”
The sheriff left without having a conversation about Lizzy’s need for a riding instructor. Dash propped his chin on his fist and stared out his office window for a long moment.
Well, he shouldn’t be all that surprised. His own past actions had contributed to his reputation in this town. He couldn’t blame the town for gossiping.
The man he used to be would probably act out in some way, or take himself down to the local bar and drink himself into oblivion.
But he wasn’t that man anymore. The man he wanted to be would behave in a totally different way. That man would do everything in his power to make certain that Savannah was safe from whoever had perpetrated this sick joke.
Someone had tried to hurt her, and Dash didn’t like it. Not one iota.
He picked up his phone and called his attorney, who gave him the name of a private investigation firm, and Dash made a call.
Savannah closed the door behind the sheriff and leaned her head on the wood. She didn’t want to believe that Dash had staged the snake episode. Even if all the evidence suggested that he had.
“You know he didn’t do it, don’t you?” Miriam said from her place in the living room where she had been watching her soap operas.
“You eavesdropped?”
Miriam shrugged. “Y’all were talking in the dining room. It’s not like I’m deaf.”
Savannah came into the living room. “Dash knows that I’m terrified of snakes.”
“Everyone knows that.”
“The sheriff says he has a key. I didn’t know that.”
“Of course he has a key. It’s my key. Your granddaddy gave me that key a long time ago.”
“There wasn’t any sign of forced entry.”
“It’s an old lock. Someone who was determined could have picked it.”
“Who would do that?”
Miriam shook her head. “I don’t know. But I’m just saying that Dash didn’t do it. If you think long and hard about the first snake episode, you’ll realize that this one is all backward.”
“Backward?”
“Yes, sugar. I’m talking cause and effect.”
Savannah stared down at the Persian rug. The first snake episode had occurred when Dash was thirteen and Savannah was ten. It was that first summer when Dash had come to live in the big house with Uncle Harry and Aunt Miriam and Granny and Granddaddy.
Dash had taken one look at her and made up his mind that he hated her. And the feeling was completely mutual. Especially since they constantly battled for Granddaddy’s attention. Dash was always getting into trouble: stealing things from the dime store, using bad language, staying out all hours. Savannah remembered how the grown-ups would talk about him in the parlor, sometimes, really late at night.
Savannah had overheard it all, standing on the stairs, eavesdropping like a little brat. They said his parents left him, and his grandfather and father were both drunks, and a lot of stuff like that. And Mom had called him a bad seed.
Savannah should never have repeated any of it, especially the ugly things Mom said. But Savannah had repeated Mom’s words. To everyone.
Dash had retaliated by blowing up her Twirly Curls Barbie. And in her anger, Savannah had called him a bad seed right to his face and told him he was so bad that he didn’t deserve to have parents.
The snake had arrived in her bed the next night.
Savannah let go of a long sigh. The night of the snake episode, after the screaming and the crying, Granddaddy had made it very clear that he was disappointed in her. She had resented it at the time. After all, Dash had almost scared her into peeing her pajama pants.
Worst of all, Granddaddy had made her apologize to Dash. And he’d never once asked Dash to apologize to Savannah. Looking at the incident now, from the perspective of motherhood, she finally understood.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “He only put that snake in my bed because I hurt him. I hurt him with words. I hurt his reputation.”
“That’s right, sugar.”
“I was wrong.”
“Yes, you were.”
“Dash wouldn’t have put those snakes up there in the projection room, not if it would lead to this kind of gossip about his reputation. He’s been working on that, hasn’t he? It’s part of why he goes to his AA meetings every Thursday,” Savannah said.
“That’s right, sugar. Dash might tease you about snakes until the cows come home, but he wouldn’t do something like that. Especially not now. He’s been working to put aside that tough exterior he used to hide behind. And inside, he’s got the gentlest heart. Have you ever seen him with his horses?”
Savannah shook her head.
“Well, I know you’ve seen the way he is with kids and dogs.”
She nodded.
“He can’t help that he was born with the genes that make him and alcohol a deadly mix. But he’s been sober for almost two years. And that fight at Dot’s the day before Harry’s funeral was all Roy Burdett’s fault.”
“I’ve misjudged him. I know that.”
“I’m glad you know it. And there’s one other thing, sugar. If Dash wanted to scare you with a snake, he’d go find a garden snake or something a whole lot less dangerous than a couple of western diamondbacks. Those snakes had to cost someone a lot of money, and it’s funny because any fool could have gone out into the garden and found a harmless snak
e that would have scared you just as badly. Dash is a tease, but he’s not vicious.”
Aunt Miriam patted her knee and continued, “I’m glad you’re here. And I’m glad that you brought Todd. And I’m glad to see that you and Dash have started to get over all that stuff from when you were kids. Don’t let this set you back. You know in your heart that Dash is innocent.”
She examined her heart, and much to her surprise she did know that Dash was innocent. She knew it because she’d seen his face right after he’d discovered those snakes. He’d been surprised. He couldn’t have faked that.
And she knew he was innocent because of a bunch of other things that had nothing to do with the snakes. She knew it because of the way he paid attention to Todd. The way he made time for him, like he understood what Todd was going through. And he probably did.
Just then the front door opened, and Dash came striding in. He got as far as the archway. The look on his face spoke volumes. He expected her to blame him for the snakes.
Savannah stood up. “I just talked to Sheriff Rhodes, and I know what folks are saying about those snakes. And I just want to let you know that I don’t think you put them there. This situation is not at all like what happened when we were kids. It’s backward,” she said, borrowing her aunt’s words. Thank goodness Miriam was lucid today.
His mouth twitched, and he stood frozen for a moment. “Uh, thank you.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
CHAPTER 12
As a child, Savannah had attended the Watermelon Festival, held every year in midsummer. But she was ignorant of the other important celebrations that marked life in Last Chance.
She had never attended the Annual Egg Toss and Frog Jump Jubilee that occurred every year on the Saturday before Easter. And she had most certainly never gone frog hunting before.
But here she stood, clutching a flashlight and wearing a pair of oversized rubber boots that had once belonged to Uncle Harry, trying to keep up with her cousin and her son. They were walking along the trail off Bluff Road that skirted the old derelict Jonquil House, heading toward the swamp.
At night.
And the only reason she was here was because Dash and Todd had dared her to come. And she, like the idiot she often was, had risen to the challenge.
When would she learn? She should be back at home, cooking a casserole or something for the covered-dish Easter brunch that was held annually at the Baptist church after sunrise services. It was attended by every congregation in town. And, in addition to a bean casserole, Savannah wanted to bake an apple pie, just to prove the point that her crust was flakier than Jenny Carpenter’s.
But no. She’d opened her mouth at dinner tonight, and here she was.
“All right, now, son,” Dash said as they tramped along the path. “We’ll need to be quiet and listen to hear a bullfrog.”
“What does a bullfrog sound like?”
“Lord have mercy, boy, you really have been living in the city, haven’t you?”
Todd made no comment.
“It’s all right. I know what a bullfrog sounds like.”
It was at that point that Savannah noticed another light up ahead. “Uh, we’re not alone.”
“Of course we’re not alone. It’s the Friday before the frog jump. Practically every boy in Allenberg County between the ages of five and fifteen is out here with his daddy frog hunting.”
“I see. And you did this as a child?”
“Of course I did. Uncle Earnest brought me out here every year. He was a champion frog hunter. He even won the competition a couple of times, but he never entered any frogs in the national frog jump in Calaveras County. Which reminds me, Todd, you need to read the Mark Twain story.”
“Sure.”
They reached the edge of the swamp. On either side, flashlights were moving through the trees.
“All right now, son, the first thing you need to do is wet down your bag.” Dash aimed a flashlight at the water, and Todd dunked the bag.
“All right. Let’s listen for a minute.”
They fell silent, and sure enough, not more than ten seconds went by before they heard the unmistakable sound of a bull frog serenading the night in search of a mate.
Dash touched Todd’s shoulder and pointed. They circled the water’s edge to the right. The sound got louder.
“All right,” he whispered, “he’s right over yonder. We’ll need to wade into the water. You take the flashlight and kind of shine it along the edge of the water. When you see the frog, you have to be real quiet and move toward him, keeping the light on his eyes. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“I’m not going into the water,” Savannah whispered.
Dash laughed. “Princess, I’m surprised you got this far. You stay here. We’ll do the huntin’.”
Dash and Todd slipped into the waist-high water, and all Savannah could think about was gators and water moccasins. She wondered if Dash was a gator wrangler, too.
Of course if a gator decided to eat her, Dash would be too busy frog hunting to notice. On the other hand, it was amazing what was happening to Todd. Everything she had wished for and hoped for was unfolding before her eyes.
And she would be an idiot not to realize that Dash was responsible. Todd was doing his chores, bringing home good marks in school, taking care of the dog, learning to ride a horse, and frog hunting. He was also getting taller and slimming down. He still played video games, but not all the time.
So maybe facing down her fear of snakes and gators was worth it, just to see her son fearlessly wade into dark waters intent on catching a frog for the big jump tomorrow.
The undergrowth rustled behind her, and her own fears sent a shiver right up her backbone. She turned to find a man-shaped shadow standing on the path behind her. Her skin went cold as scenes from The Creature from the Black Lagoon spooled through her mind.
She aimed her flashlight at it.
And it turned out to be only a man. Carrying a cat. Which seemed kind of strange here in the middle of what was turning into a community frog hunt.
“Ma’am,” he said.
“Hello.”
“I’m Zeph. I think Mr. Dash must have told you about me.”
“Oh. Yes.”
He took another step forward. “This here is Maverick.” He held out a very large, black cat. “He’s the best mouser I’ve got. He don’t need much attention either.”
Savannah didn’t want the cat. But she could hardly say no, standing there alone in the middle of a swamp. So she took the cat into her arms. It was heavier than she expected. It started to purr.
Suddenly she was ten years old, hanging out in the small apartment above the theater playing with Bogey, the black cat who lived at The Kismet. She hadn’t thought about that cat in years. Mom didn’t allow pets at home, so Bogey was the first cat she’d ever known. She had loved that cat.
This one settled right into her arms as if he belonged there.
She looked up at Zeph. He stood in the darkness now. “Thank you,” she said.
“I knew you and Maverick were going to be friends. He’s been waiting a long time to find a home.”
And with that, Zeph turned and walked into the darkness as if he knew the path so well he didn’t need a flashlight.
And that raised an interesting question: How had he found her out here in the dark? The answers that came to her were a little bit creepy.
Dash stood at the edge of the City Hall Park. The egg hunt was in full swing. Little kids with Easter baskets ran all over the place looking for plastic eggs, while the members of the sixth-grade Sunday Schools for five different churches ran after them providing hints.
The older kids had hidden the eggs this morning at o-dark-thirty, which had been kind of a challenge since most of them had spent the previous night frog hunting. It had practically taken dynamite to get Todd out of bed this morning. The kid thought frog hunting was “tight,” but Easter egg hunting not so much.
Dash and T
odd had done okay last night. They’d caught three frogs, and a few hours of sleep, while Savannah had caught a big fat monster of a cat.
He smiled. Zeph was a piece of work.
He cast his gaze over the people in the park, searching for her. Savannah looked good enough to eat in her little blue dress. She stood behind a card table festooned with helium-filled balloons, handing out brownies and Rice Krispie squares. Her blond ponytail bounced as she talked.
She was cute. And built. And she believed in him, when everyone else seemed to be thinking he’d staged the whole snake rescue for some nefarious reason.
And that was a big breakthrough. Maybe what he was feeling for her was more than just an addiction. More than just lust.
And every time he allowed himself to think that way, it scared him silly. He could see that Savannah wasn’t like the blond bimbos he’d hung around with when he was playing in the majors. Those women were trouble. They were looking to party, and he’d been the original party animal. He couldn’t remember one of their names.
Savannah wasn’t a party girl. She was wholesome. She was a terrific mother, a dedicated niece, and a member in good standing of the Last Chance Book Club.
She was exactly like Hettie. Hettie was the Queen Bee, and Savannah was the princess. Dash had a weakness for royalty, evidently. Because he was falling in love with Savannah.
And love was the worst kind of addiction a man could have. Especially when the woman in question was destined for someone else.
He needed to keep his distance. It was the right thing to do, even if it was harder than staying away from Dot’s Spot.
He shifted his gaze, looking for the kid. As usual, Todd had disengaged. He stood by one of the big oaks at the back of the park. Watching.
Dash’s phone rang as he headed across the park toward the kid. One look at the caller ID had him tumbling right into the past. Condy Dombrowski, his erstwhile agent, hadn’t called in at least nine months.
He pressed the talk button. “Hey, Condy.”