Chapter 13
An uncomfortable silence descended over the patio. Somewhere in the crape myrtles, an early cricket chirped fitfully.
And then there were two , Colly thought. All evening, she’d been hoping for a chance to question Iris about the case, but now didn’t seem like the right time.
She stood. “I think I’ll check on the kids.”
Iris, who had been staring absently at the flagstones, looked up and seemed surprised to find anyone there. “All right, dear. I’ll come with you.”
In the den, they discovered Alice curled on the sofa watching a nature documentary as the three younger children slept on floor-pillows.
“They conked out right after dinner.” Alice grinned. “Between the riding and the swimming, they were beat.”
“You were sweet to entertain them.” Colly glanced around. “I’d like to pay you for your time. Let me grab my purse—it’s in the car.”
“No way, Aunt Colly. I had a blast.” Alice consulted the mantel clock. “I better run, though—I have a little more homework.”
When Alice had gone, Colly turned to Iris. “I’ll get the kids ready. Wonder where their shoes are?”
Iris laid a hand on her arm. “One minute, dear, I’d like a word.”
She led Colly into the dining room. The faint odor of yeast rolls still hung in the air, but the table had been cleared and a Delftware vase of crimson tulips placed in its center.
“It’s more private here,” Iris said.
“What’s up?” Colly asked uneasily.
“I’m concerned about Satchel. When I helped him put on his bathing suit tonight, I noticed quite a few small scars on his thighs and shoulders.”
Colly straightened. “Yes, I know. Those are burns. They’re self-inflicted.”
Iris covered her mouth with one hand. “Why would he—? How was he permitted?”
“He wasn’t permitted , Iris, but he’s clever,” Colly snapped. “Ever tried completely eliminating heat sources from your home? You get rid of matches and lighters, but there’s still the stove, the iron, the barbecue. His therapist says self-harming’s not uncommon in traumatized kids.”
“But surely more can be done? Medication—a new environment, perhaps? He was saying just tonight how much he loves the ranch. I know it’s been overwhelming for you these past couple of years, looking after Satchel when you’re coping with your own trauma.”
Colly went rigid. “I’m fine. And while we’re on the subject—in the future, please don’t tell Satchel he can spend the summer here without checking—” She heard a noise.
Russ was watching them from the archway. “Everything all right?”
Iris smiled and adjusted a tulip in the vase. “Yes, dear. Did you get Lowell sorted?”
Russ looked skeptical, but he nodded. “I left him in the guesthouse. He’s weepy now, sends his apologies. Brenda’s getting the kids ready to go. You’re riding back with her, Col?”
Colly nodded. “My car’s at her house.” She pushed past him without another word to Iris and was halfway down the hall before Russ caught up.
“Sounded intense back there,” he said. “You okay?”
“Your mother wants Satchel.”
“Nah, she just cares about him.”
Like Hitler cared about Poland , Colly thought as they entered the den.
Brenda was there, putting shoes on a groggy Logan. Her brief walk had apparently calmed her. “I couldn’t wake the other two. They’re out for the night, I’m afraid.”
“We got ’em.” Russ lifted Minnie in his arms.
Colly picked up Satchel and followed the others out to the gravel drive.
Brenda opened the minivan doors. “Great, my dome light’s on the fritz again.”
Groping blindly in the dark, they fastened the children into the back seat. Brenda slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
Outside the van, Colly turned to Russ. “What a day.”
His smile appeared tired in the muted light from the porch. “Didn’t chase you off?”
“Of course not. See you tomorrow.”
Russ leaned in and kissed her impulsively on the cheek. His scent and the roughness of his jaw against her skin reminded Colly so potently of Randy that she almost flinched.
She turned quickly and climbed into the van. Russ closed her door. As she pulled the seatbelt, several things happened. A shadow flashed in front of her, and a gust of air hit her face as something large and dark dropped from the ceiling. It brushed against her arm as it fell, landing heavily in her lap.
She shrieked, more startled than afraid.
Russ jerked the door open. “What is it?” he demanded as Brenda gasped, “What’s that ?”
“I don’t know. Something—”
In the darkness, Colly groped at the thing lying across her knees. It felt rubbery and cool, covered in a wet stickiness. Suddenly she screamed, loudly this time, and thrust the thing onto the floor before scrambling out of the van in a blind panic. Russ’s arms closed around her and pulled her away from the vehicle.
“I got you,” he was saying. “What’s wrong?”
Colly was dimly aware of her own ragged gasps as she wrestled away from him and ran towards the house. Stumbling up the porch steps, she collided with a rocking chair and fell, sprawling on the planking with the chair across her back.
Rushing up the steps behind her, Russ threw aside the chair and pulled her to her feet. “Colly, you okay?” He turned her to face him, and his eyes widened. “Oh, God.”
Colly looked down. The front of the blue dress was scarlet. Her extremities felt suddenly cold. “The kids—Russ, get the kids out of there.”
“Brenda’ll get them. Just stand still.” Breathing hard, Russ ran his hands over her shoulders and arms. “Where’s it coming from?” He was trying to stay calm, but his voice cracked.
Behind her, Colly heard the screen door fly open. “What’s going on?”
“Momma, bring me the first-aid kit,” Russ shouted. “And turn on the floodlights.”
The screen door banged shut. A second later, halogen lamps affixed to the eaves blazed on. In the harsh glare, Colly saw that the three children had woken up and were piling out of the van, while, behind its wheel, Brenda was struggling to disentangle herself from her seatbelt.
As her initial panic response subsided, Colly’s investigative instincts took over. “Kids, stay back,” she shouted as the children rushed towards the porch. Satchel’s face was white, his eyes fixed on her blood-soaked dress. He stopped and doubled over, vomiting on the ground.
“Satchel, it’s okay—just stand still.” Colly worked to sound calm. “Russ, I’m not hurt. Something fell on me—it’s in the car.”
Russ tilted her face into the light and pulled up her eyelids with his thumb to check her pupils. Apparently satisfied, he nodded. “Wait here.”
He picked up a lap blanket from one of the rocking chairs and threw it around her shoulders, then turned and descended the porch steps.
Brenda was now out of the van and running towards the house.
Colly waved her off. “Keep the kids back.”
Brenda nodded. Satchel was standing a little apart from his cousins, his teeth chattering. Colly gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right there, buddy. Wait with Aunt Brenda.”
Russ had ducked into the van’s front passenger seat and was groping blindly on the floorboards. “What the—? Brenda, got a flashlight?”
“In the glovebox.”
For what seemed like an eternity, Colly watched from the porch as Russ shone a white beam of light around the van’s interior. Finally, he backed out of the door, something long and thin dangling from his fist. He carried it to the base of the porch and threw it on the ground.
“Don’t worry, it’s dead.”
Colly swallowed with effort. At Russ’s feet lay a six-foot rattlesnake, its black eyes dull and staring. The diamond patterns on its back were nearly obscured by congealed blood, though Colly saw no visible wounds.
“How’d you kill it?”
“It was dead already. Tucked up inside a cloth pouch the same color as the van ceiling, and rigged to fall when you put on the seatbelt. Fuse for the dome light’s been pulled, too. That’s why no one saw it.” Russ rubbed his forehead, leaving a red smear above his eyebrow.
Colly felt light-headed. She steadied herself against the porch rail. “But—where’s the blood coming from?”
“Belly’s slit open. See?” Russ rolled the snake with his boot. “There’s gore all over the van—spilled out when it fell. The thing’s been dead a few hours, at least.”
“Who would do that?” Brenda edged closer. She had one arm protectively around Satchel’s shoulders, and Minnie was clinging to her skirt.
“That’s cool .” Logan started towards the porch, but his mother grabbed his t-shirt and jerked him back like a puppy on a leash.
“It is not cool—don’t say that.”
Russ looked at Brenda. “Were the doors locked?”
“No. Why would they be?”
Just then, Iris emerged from the house carrying a metal box with a red cross on the lid. “I couldn’t find it at first,” she said, then spotted the snake. “Was someone bitten? Are the children all right?”
Russ held up his hand. “No one’s hurt, Momma. Stay there.”
Heedless, Iris descended the steps. “Was that in the yard? Did you kill it, Russ?” She stooped to peer more closely. “Is that a cigarette in its mouth?”
Russ stared blankly at his mother, then pointed the flashlight at the snake’s head. Even from her vantage point several feet away, Colly could see the tip of a small, white object protruding from between the jaws. Russ knelt and reached for the snake, but Colly stopped him.
“Got any gloves?”
“There are some in here.” Iris handed Russ the first-aid kit.
Once gloved, he levered open the snake’s mouth and pulled out the white object.
It was a rolled scrap of paper.
With a glance at Colly, he dropped the snake and unrolled the paper on his knee. He stared in disgust.
“What is it?” Colly, Brenda, and Iris asked simultaneously.
Russ stood. His mother reached for the paper, but he held it away.
“Evidence, Momma.” He went to Colly and turned the paper so she could see.
Scrawled across it in crude block letters were the words: 1ST WARNING U MURDERING BITCH—GO HOME.