“Olivia is five going on fifty-five,” I said.
Eloise’s jaw disconnected. “You let a child keep that thing as a pet? Are you trying to become a YouTube sensation the hard way?”
“Charlemagne is harmless,” I said. Unless you tried to take away his toy. Then you needed to watch for fangs.
“What if it isn’t your snake?” Eloise asked. “Did you call your niece and see if he’s missing?”
“She’s at school,” I said. No one was home to check on Charlemagne right now. “Now, where did you last see this snake?”
Eloise pointed behind us. “On the front lawn by the step. It was watching me, waiting for its moment to strike.”
Okay, Eloise seemed to have indulged in a bit of day drinking. Understandable for a weekend or if you lived with evil witches, but today was Monday and Eloise appeared to live alone.
I turned to Sean. “How about you stay here with Eloise and I’ll take a look around the yard?”
“Sounds good to me,” Sean said. No surprise there. Any guy afraid of his own shadow was probably afraid of snakes too. How he’d managed to become a deputy, I’d never know. Chief O’Neill must’ve seen something in the soulless ginger that escaped me.
I slipped outside and surveyed the front lawn. There was no sign of movement. I walked the perimeter of the yard, occasionally calling Charlemagne’s name. I even shook the bag of Cheez-Its for good measure. I rounded the corner of the house and inspected the backyard. It was compact and tidy, with a bistro table and two chairs on the patio. Cheerful potted plants lined the perimeter of the pavers. It was then I noticed that a pot on the end had been knocked over. Although it could’ve easily been due to a gust of wind, it was worth checking. I peered at the fallen pot and saw where the soil had spilled into the grass—along with something else.
“What’s that?” I crouched down to examine the discovery. Snakeskin. Unfortunately, it didn’t match Charlemagne’s.
I picked up the snakeskin and returned to a standing position. Somehow, I had a feeling that Sean wouldn’t be excited about taking snakeskin back to the office as evidence.
I walked the length of the backyard before returning to the front of the house where Sean and Eloise were talking. A Siamese cat threaded her way through Eloise’s legs as she spoke.
“I found this,” I said, holding up the snakeskin. “Otherwise, there was no sign of the snake.”
Sean squinted at the evidence. “Doesn’t look like anything special. It’s probably just a garden snake.”
“Technically, they’re garter snakes,” I said.
Eloise balked. “It can’t have been a garter snake. That thing was huge.”
“Look, Ms.…Eloise. The chief is sick and I’ve got more important things to do than show up because a lady is scared of a snake.”
Eloise fixed him with a hard stare. “Pretty sure all your socks are in the laundry, lover boy. You might as well make yourself useful to the public.”
I stifled a laugh and studied the snakeskin. “I think she’s right, Sean. I don’t think this belongs to a garter snake.”
“Whatever. It’s still not a threat,” Sean said. “Just keep your doors and windows closed.”
“It could be a threat,” I said. “Sometimes people adopt an exotic pet and realize they can’t handle it, so they set the animal free. If it’s not used to living outside on its own, it could misbehave.”
Sean pressed his lips together. “Fine. I’ll check out the rest of the neighborhood. Maybe a neighbor knows something.”
Eloise angled her head to the left. “Start with Mrs. Langley next door. She hates me. She probably bought the snake just to release it into my yard and mess with me.”
“Why does she hate you?” I asked. I thought of my own family’s subtle feud with Mrs. Paulson next door. The elderly woman was too nosy for her own good.
Eloise huffed. “Because she thinks I ruined her beloved azaleas.”
“Why would she think that?” I asked.
“Because they died.”
I cast a quick glance at Sean. “Did you do something to them?”
She folded her arms. “If vomit has a negative impact on the health of azaleas, then I guess it’s possible. I don’t see why it wouldn’t act as a special fertilizer though. There had to be some nutrients in there.”
I frowned. “Why did you barf in her azaleas?”
“It wasn’t deliberate,” Eloise said. “In my defense, it was dark and I thought I was in my bathroom.”
“How drunk were you?” Sean asked.
Eloise wrapped a strand of blond hair around her finger. “On a scale of tipsy to unconscious?” She pondered the question. “I remembered to hold my hair back. I woke up on the lawn, though, so I guess that counts as unconscious.”
“Did your neighbor see you there?” I asked.
“Why do you think I woke up? She turned the hose on me.”
Oh boy. I could see why their relationship wasn’t so neighborly.
“To be fair, she hated me before the azalea incident,” Eloise admitted. “She thinks I’m a blight on the neighborhood. She also doesn’t like cats, which basically means there’s a spot reserved for her in hell.” She looked down at the cat. “Isn’t that right, Mischief?”
The Siamese cat meowed in response.
“Okay, Deputy Guthrie and I will canvas the neighborhood and let you know if we find anything.”
“Do you need a gun?” Eloise asked.
Sean jerked toward her. “You own a gun?”
Eloise blanched. “No. Nope. I wouldn’t dream of owning an unlicensed firearm. I’m a responsible, law-abiding citizen.”
Sean muttered under his breath, as we left the house and headed next door to Mrs. Langley’s house. I stopped to look underneath the dark blue Honda Accord in Mrs. Langley’s driveway in case there was a snake lurking.
“The coast is clear,” I told Sean.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said. “It’s not like I care if I see it.”
I smiled at him over my shoulder. “Is that why you’re sticking so close to me?”
He stopped walking to widen the gap between us. “I’m not.”
I made a hissing sound and he scowled. I laughed and stepped onto the porch. The front door was open, so I knocked on the screen door.
“Mrs. Langley?” I called. I peered inside. There was no sign of movement. “Hello, Mrs. Langley?”
“She’s probably old,” Sean said. “You need to ring the bell.” He pressed the button and we heard the shrill sound from outside. “She can’t miss that noise, no matter how deaf she is.”
When there was no response, I cracked open the screen door and called her name. Still no answer.
“We should go in,” I said. Now that I knew it wasn’t Charlemagne, all bets were off as to the snake’s temperament. There could be an old lady suffering from a snake bite somewhere inside.
Sean’s pale, freckled brow lifted. “Why would we do that?”
“The snake might have come here after Eloise scared it away. Or what if she’s fallen and can’t get up?” There were enough advertisements about that to suggest it actually happened.
“What if she’s in the bathtub and naked?” Sean countered.
“Like you don’t have firsthand experience with a wrinkled prune,” I shot back.
“I don’t know what Tanner ever saw in you.”
I tensed, not wanting to think about the whole Tanner debacle. “It was high school, Sean. Give it a rest.” I held open the screen door. “You can arrest me when I come out if you want, but I’m going in.”
“Stop being so dramatic. I’m coming.”
I entered the house with Sean right behind me. The small foyer was welcoming, with a painted console table covered in country style knick knacks. A ceramic chicken that looked straight out of a senior citizen’s class. A rustic metal pitcher. A wooden sign that spelled ‘love’ with each letter painted a different muted color. We continued into the
kitchen and I noticed a dirty bowl and spoon in the sink. A mug of water sat on the counter next to the stove. There was no sign of a teabag. I placed my hands around the mug. Cold.
“I’ll check the bedroom and bathroom to preserve your modesty,” I said.
“It’s not my modesty I’m worried about,” he said. “I’ll scope out the living room.”
I crept along the hallway, calling her name again. The wall was lined with photographs of family members, including a double frame with an older couple on one side and their younger selves on the other. It was sweet. I filed the idea away for a time when I could display a framed photograph of Sawyer and me, assuming such a day ever came. And if Grandma hexed us, we could include that photo of our older selves sooner rather than later.
That’s looking on the bright side, Eden.
The bathroom was empty. She wasn’t in the bedroom either, although there were clean clothes placed neatly on the bed. I checked the other bedrooms before meeting up with Sean in the living room.
“I wonder if she’s part of that program where a driver picks her up and brings her to appointments,” I said. I knew several senior citizens that took part in the program, like Grandma’s friend Shirley. Although, to be honest, Shirley had no trouble driving. She just enjoyed being chauffeured around. She said it made her feel like Joan Collins, whoever that is. It was possible that Mrs. Langley no longer felt comfortable driving but was reluctant to give up her car. I could understand that. The car was probably her last link to complete independence.
“I can check the hospital,” Sean said. “Make sure she wasn’t brought in.”
“Let’s check with the other neighbors first,” I said. “If she’s anything like Aunt Thora, she’s probably sitting in someone’s kitchen with a cup of tea and a story.” Aunt Thora was like me. She sought relationships outside of the family as a way of staying sane.
We left the house and I closed both doors behind me. No need to encourage a burglar with an open door.
“We should divide and conquer,” Sean said. “I’ll take the houses across the street.”
“Okay, make sure to ask about the snake too,” I said. “If it’s as big as Eloise claims, then they should be on alert, especially if they have small children or pets.”
Sean’s eyes popped in a comical fashion. “You think a snake could pose a threat to kids?”
“One hundred percent,” I said. “Did you never learn about them in school? They can crack open their jaws and…”
He held up a hand. “I don’t need nightmares, Fury. Seeing your face this long is enough of a challenge.”
I chucked the snakeskin at him. “You’ll need to take this to the office.” I laughed as he shrank from the flimsy material.
“I don’t need it,” he said, and I detected a slight whine in his voice. By the gods, I really hoped to get the chief back in working human condition soon. I always knew Sean Guthrie wasn’t an adequate substitute and this was proof.
I spun on my heel and jogged to the house on the other side of Mrs. Langley’s. All the houses on this street were well-maintained. I could understand why Mrs. Langley was upset about her azaleas. You never want to be the one to bring down the neighborhood. Then again, it seemed that, in this neighborhood, the honor belonged to Eloise Worthington.
I knocked on the door and a middle-aged man answered. He was bald and portly and, judging from his T-shirt and sweatpants, on his way out the door for a workout.
“Can I help you?” he asked, his face tense.
“My name is Agent Fury,” I said. “I was checking on Mrs. Langley next door. Her front door was open, but she doesn’t appear to be home. Do you happen to know where she is?”
He seemed to relax. “Boy, you had me worried there for a second. It’s Monday, so she’s probably at her physical therapy session. She has tendonitis in her shoulder.”
“Oh, is she unable to drive?” I asked.
“She’s had her son drive her ever since the flareup,” he said. “Holding the steering wheel aggravates it.”
“She told you that?”
He laughed under his breath. “More times than I care to count. She takes prescription strength ibuprofen too. I can also tell you about her reaction to the shingles vaccine.” He shook his head. “Spoiler alert: it wasn’t good.”
I smiled. “Thanks, that’s helpful. Mr…?”
“Garrett,” he said. “My wife and I have lived next door for about fifteen years, so we know Mrs. Langley and her schedule pretty well.”
Better than he’d like, apparently.
“One more question,” I said. “Any chance you’ve seen a large snake in the neighborhood?”
His brow lifted. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, one of your neighbors reported seeing one and I found snakeskin that corroborated her story. If you have any small pets or children, I’d suggest not leaving them outside unattended until the snake’s been caught.”
Mr. Garrett nodded profusely. “I’ll be sure to keep our cats inside. My wife would die if anything happened to them.”
“Deputy Guthrie is spreading the word with your other neighbors,” I said.
“I can post to our neighborhood Facebook page,” he said. “That way everyone sees the alert.”
“Thanks, that would be helpful.” I started to leave.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Mr. Garrett began, “why is a federal agent checking on Mrs. Langley? Is she in some kind of trouble?” Worry lines formed between his eyebrows.
“No, not at all. I was actually dealing with Eloise on the corner.”
The lines disappeared. “Ah, that makes more sense.”
I smiled. “She’s a handful, I take it.”
“She’s something,” Mr. Garret said vaguely, but the implication was clear.
I tilted my head toward the driveway. “For what it’s worth, your azaleas are in good shape.”
“Yeah, as long as Eloise doesn’t go on any more benders, we expect to keep them that way.”
I left the Garrets’ house and finished talking to neighbors on my side of the street. Of the people currently home, no one had seen a snake. Sean and I reconvened in front of Eloise’s house. I told him about Mrs. Langley’s appointment and that I’d seen no further evidence of the snake.
“I found more snakeskin in the yard directly across the street.” He pointed to the house on the corner opposite where we were standing. “No snake though.”
“I guess you should call Animal Control now that I know it isn’t Charlemagne,” I said. “People will start to get anxious now that they know it’s out there. They’ll feel better if they see someone actively pursuing it.”
“Yeah, I don’t want any more phone calls to deal with.” He dragged a hand through his red hair. “How long did you say until the chief’s better?”
I felt a rush of tenderness for the poor chief. “Not soon enough.”
Chapter Five
After Sean returned me to my car in front of the diner, I Googled ‘food for foxes’ and was pleased to see cheese on the list of foods that they eat. That was easy. Unsurprisingly, I opted to bypass raw meat. I ran into the nearest store and contemplated the overwhelming choices.
“Hello, Eden,” the owner said. As a descendant of Francis Worland, one of the Puritan settlers, Joan Worland had owned and operated Brie-licious since before I was born. She was at least seventy years old, but with her relatively smooth skin and ash blond hair, she didn’t look a day over fifty. If I didn’t know for certain that she was human, I’d swear she was a vampire.
“How are you, Joan?”
“I’d heard you moved back to town,” the older woman said. “City life didn’t agree with you, I suppose.”
“Something like that.” I hated having to explain my reasons for returning to Chipping Cheddar, especially because there was no way to do it honestly. “The agency transferred me to another division.”
She frowned. “Yes, I heard. It’s money laundering?”<
br />
“No, cyber crime. Online fraud.”
Joan shook her head. “I don’t know much about that. I stay off the internet. Too much fake news circulating. I rely on The Buttermilk Bugle and that’s about it.” She perked up. “Say, isn’t your friend Clara a reporter there? So nice to see you kids grown up and doing important work. Cheese is all I’ve ever known.” She placed a palm flat on the counter, seemingly lost in thought. “That’s what happens when you take over a family business.”
“Didn’t you get a choice?”
Joan blew a raspberry. “It was take over or sell the business. My grandfather always said cheesemaking’s in our blood. He would’ve climbed out of his grave like one of those zombies in the movies and given me an earful if I’d have let the shop fall into someone else’s hands.”
I laughed. “If the only thing zombies did was lecture people about their poor life choices, there’d be far fewer horror movies.”
“Well, you didn’t venture in here to catch up on my life story,” Joan said. “What brings you in? Your Aunt Thora was in here just yesterday, so I can’t imagine you’re out of cheddar already.”
I surveyed the variety of cheeses. “This might seem like an odd question, but there’s a fox that’s been visiting my friend’s garden and we want to feed him. Apparently, foxes like cheese, so what do you think? Asiago is probably too nutty for him, right? Is American too bland?”
Joan chuckled. “Pair the American with a nice wine and you’re golden.”
A blush rose to my cheeks. “I told you it was an odd question.”
“That’s quite a lot of thought you’re putting into fox food. Are you planning to serve crackers with it? I have a nice selection of those too.”
“Just cheese, thanks.” I examined a block of Beaufort. Too expensive. “Chevaigne will work.”
“No problem. Anything else?”
“As a matter of fact there is.” I pulled out my wallet as she rang up the order. “Do you know anything about a secret society for Puritan descendants?”
Joan’s hand hovered over the register. “What makes you ask about that?”
I gave her a twenty-dollar bill. “Clara’s writing an article about them for the paper and I thought you might be a good source for her.”
Hell Hath No Fury Page 4