Chapter 2 #3
They pulled their guns and started moving toward the kitchen door, as if expecting to be attacked. The moment they stepped onto the porch, they saw the ten-foot python lying in the downpour, lethargically stretched across a grassy yard in need of mowing. The bulge in its belly was huge.
They gave each other a look. Afraid to turn their backs on the snake, they stepped backward into the house just as Officers Bob and Fred walked in, followed by Chief Arnold.
“Where’s Elvis?” the chief asked.
“Out there,” they said, pointing. “He’s not moving.”
They gathered around Floy but didn’t touch him. They’d never seen a man cry like that, and jerking in a way that made them think he was having seizures.
“Is he having a fit?” Tex asked.
The chief just stood there staring as he shook the rain off his hat. Instead of calling for an ambulance, he shrugged. “I don’t know, but he’s still breathing. Let me know if he passes out.”
Then he opened the back door, saw the snake in the grass and the enormous bulge in its belly, and shuddered, before reminding himself that the first rule of law was the need for proof.
He couldn’t arrest a snake, but there might be laws against keeping a dangerous animal that he didn’t know about.
He shut the door, then knelt beside Floy and put a hand on his shoulder to roll him over onto his back.
“Floy, we’re going to need you to come with us. I need a full statement, and we’re also going to need proof that it’s really Mayrene.”
Floy was still mute, staring blankly at the chief’s face.
Arnold gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Breathe, boy. Breathe. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”
Floy took a couple of deep breaths and scrubbed his hands across his face as Bob and Fred tried to help him to his feet.
Floy shuddered, trying to focus. “She was here when I left, and Elvis was not. I came home and saw one of her shoes by the door. I found the other outside on the porch, and then I saw Elvis stretched out in the backyard like that. It’s all my fault.
She kept wanting me to get rid of it. I didn’t, and look what happened!
” He moaned, then covered his face again.
One of the officers shuddered. “Can a snake like that really swallow a human?”
“Yes,” Floy whispered.
Tex and Dub wiped the snot and tears off Floy’s face, then led him out of the house into the downpour, making the prior face scrub they had just given him unnecessary. This was now an active crime scene.
“Bob, you and Fred tape off the crime scene, and stay put inside the house. Keep an eye on that snake until I can get hold of a vet. If the snake starts to move away, just shoot it in the head. We can’t let it get away again,” Arnold said, and then pointed at the other two officers.
“Tell the EMTs they aren’t needed after all.
Take Floy to the office and put him in the interrogation room. ”
Tex and Dub blinked. They’d never been given that order before.
“Uh . . . Chief . . . exactly where is the interrogation room?” Dub asked.
Arnold sighed. They didn’t have an actual interrogation room. They didn’t even have a conference room.
“The break room. Put him in the break room. I’m right behind you,” he said, and headed for his car. He gave the house one last look before he drove away, trying not to think about that pretty little redhead inside the belly of that monster.
The downpour on the green metal roof of Quilla’s house was mountain music to Mayrene’s ears. She was still chewing her bite of pork chop as she spooned a second helping of fried potatoes onto her plate.
Quilla glanced up with a smile, silently praising herself for rescuing her daughter from a fate worse than death, and secretly pleased that Mayrene was back under her roof where she belonged. With no reason other than her jealous heart, she disliked Floy Beaudine with every breath of her body.
Mayrene had yet to call Floy to tell him where she was, and Quilla wasn’t about to remind her. After what Floy had put Mayrene through all these years with that monstrous snake under their roof, he deserved to worry a little.
Mayrene chewed and swallowed. “It’s real nice to be eating my mama’s cooking.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Quilla said. “I imagine you’ll be sleeping better here, too.”
Mayrene thought about Floy. Surely, he was home by now. He would see Elvis and be dealing with the snake. She had expected him to call, then remembered again that she’d left her phone behind. She looked up.
“Mama, does Floy have your cell number?”
Quilla snorted. “No, and I don’t have his. We don’t like each other, remember?”
Mayrene paled. He couldn’t contact her without her phone, and she hadn’t left a note.
But then her indignation had interfered with her good sense, and she’d told herself if Floy didn’t have Quilla’s number, why hadn’t he driven up here to ask about her?
That’s when the real revelation dawned. He would have no reason to try and contact Quilla, because he was still under the belief that she was in Dallas.
“Are you ready for dessert? It’s custard pie. Your favorite,” Quilla said.
Mayrene frowned. “I need to borrow your phone,” she said.
Quilla got up to cut the custard pie. “It’s on the charger, honey. You can use it tomorrow.”