'My cousin's kid, Jaime. He went to the university and works in Tucson now at a place called the Arizona- Sonora Desert Museum. He claims snakes are more scared of people than we are of them. He says that after a captive snake gets fed, it needs to be left alone and quiet until it has a chance to digest the meal, twenty-four hours or so anyway.'
Shorty was quiet. The snake rattled one more time as if to remind us that it was still present. Hurriedly, I pulled on a pair of socks and stuffed my feet into my other pair of shoes. I glanced in his direction and found Shorty staring at the lumpy burlap bag, regarding it with a puzzled expression on his face.
'Even without the mice, I would have known,' he said.
'What do you mean?' I was back at the closet pulling out a sports jacket. I was cold, much colder than the temperature in the room warranted.
'It's the wrong kind of snake,' he answered. 'We have diamondbacks around here, and some Mohave rattlers. Even a few speckled, but this here's charcoal gray with no markings whatsoever. I'd say it's an Arizona black from up around the Mogollon Rim. I can't remember seeing one of them around here before, not ever.'
'If it's somebody's goddamned pet snake, what the hell was it doing in my cabin?'
For the first time the full implication of the snake being a 'pet snake' hit me. If somebody had planted it in my room, then that somebody had tried to kill me with it as sure as I was standing there. Assault with a deadly weapon. A living deadly weapon.
I turned on my heel and stalked out the door, not even thinking now about the snake in the burlap bag as I walked by it. Someone had just tried to murder me. I wanted to know who the hell that person was.
'Where are you going?' Shorty asked, following me out onto the small porch.
'To call the sheriff. If somebody's trying to knock me off, I want a detective down here on the double, taking prints and finding out what the hell is going on.'
'There's already been so much trouble today, with the boy and the flood-' Shorty began, but I cut him off.
'The flood's one thing, but believe me, Joey Rothman's murder and this snake are connected. Whoever killed Joey just tried to get me as well. I'm calling the sheriff.'
With that, I left Shorty there on the porch and bounded up the trail. At the door to the dining room I almost collided with people coming out. Not bothering to apologize, I stormed past them. Halfway down the administrative wing's hall I ran full tilt into Lucy Washington, who was coming from the opposite direction.
'What's got into you now?' she demanded, stopping in her tracks and barring my way with both hands on her hips. Her full lips ironed themselves into a cold, thin line. She was still packing a grudge from our previous encounter.
'To see Mrs. Crenshaw,' I answered.
'Like hell you are. She's not here and neither is the mister. What do you want?'
'To call the sheriff's department.'
She bared her teeth in a forced smile. 'Oh, do tell. We're not going to go through all that again, are we, Mr. Beaumont?'
'We sure as hell are,' I muttered.
Instead of backing away from me, Lucy Washington stepped forward until the top of her head almost touched my chin. There was no getting past her on either side. Lucy Washington was almost as wide as she was tall. Her ample breadth filled up the hallway.
'Now you listen to me, and you listen good. Mr. and Mrs. Crenshaw gave orders that they are not to be disturbed. Period. By you or anybody else. And if you pull the kind of stunt you did last night, if you go near a telephone without permission, I'm calling the cops myself. I'll have you ass thrown in jail. Understand?'
I tried to be reasonable. 'Look,' I said 'Somebody put a snake in my room, a rattlesnake. Shorty Rojas just now got it out.'
Santa Lucia smiled. 'Sure he did, and Jesus Christ himself is out in the kitchen helping Dolores Rojas wash all the dishes.'
Out of nowhere, Kelly appeared at my elbow. She was evidently ready to let bygones be bygones.
'Daddy, where were you? We got you a plateful of food, but if you don't come right now, there won't be time enough to eat before we have to leave for Wickenburg.'
'That's right,' Lucy Washington said, flashing me another smile, square-toothed and insincere. 'You just do that, Mr. Beaumont. You go have yourself some dinner with your family and get yourself all calmed down. You'll feel better once you have something to eat.'
'What's the matter, Daddy?' Kelly asked. 'This has been such a terrible day already, how could anything else go wrong?'
Santa Lucia had me right where she wanted me and she knew it. I wasn't about to say anything more about the snake in front of Kelly or Karen or Scott. It would have scared them to death.
'Nothing's the matter, honey,' Lucy said. 'You take your daddy along with you, feed him his supper, and take him to the meeting. If I happen to talk to either Mr. or Mrs. Crenshaw, I'll let them know you want to talk to them. They might call in.'
Provoked but letting it pass, I turned and marched away with Kelly following close at my heels. Karen and Scott were still waiting at a table near the center of the almost deserted room. A plate full of cold roast beef and mashed potatoes sat at a clean place setting next to Scott. I wasn't hungry, and I didn't want to have to sit down and make some kind of phoney excuse or polite conversation. It was far easier to avoid the situation entirely.
Halfway across the room I stopped abruptly and turned around, catching Kelly by surprise. 'I've got to go see somebody, Kelly. Thanks for getting my food, but I just can't eat right now. I'm not hungry.'
Hurt, she looked up into my eyes. 'You can't? Daddy, tell me. What's the matter?'
'Nothing,' I said. 'Everything's fine.'
Unfortunately, I've always been a terrible liar. Kelly knew it, saw through what I said, but I hurried away before she had a chance to call me on it. Once outside the ranch house, I half walked half ran back down the muddy path to Shorty's mobile home. He was standing outside, hat pulled low on his forehead, smoking a cigarette, and peering through the inky darkness in the direction of the roiling flood.
'Still hasn't crested,' he said, looking up as I stopped next to him. 'But I think we're going to be fine. Those sandbags will do the trick.'
'I didn't come to talk about the flood, Shorty. Where do the Crenshaws live?' I asked.
'In town. Why?'
'That damn nurse again, Lucy Washington. She won't let me near a phone to call the sheriff. What about you? Would you let me use yours?'
'Would if I could,' Shorty replied, 'but the phones are out of order. Have been for a while. Half an hour or more. I tried calling Jaime just as soon as I got back from your cabin. I wanted to ask him what to do with your friend.'
'What do you mean what to do with it?'
Shorty tossed his cigarette. 'Hell, man, if I turn it loose here, the damn thing will die. It's probably never lived in the wild. Besides, it doesn't belong here. This isn't its territory. I thought maybe Jaime could keep it in the museum, but I couldn't reach him. Incidentally, you want to see him? Not Jaime, the snake, I mean. I put him in one of Dolores' big gallon jars.'
I didn't much want to see the snake, and yet I did, too. Shorty led me inside. On the floor just inside the door sat a commercial mustard jar with the snake coiled up in the bottom. A series of air holes had been punched into the jar's lid. The snake must have been at least three and a half to four feet long. Folded back upon itself to accommodate the shape of the jar, its exact size was difficult to discern. It was a deep charcoal gray, black almost, with no markings of any kind. The rattles, somewhat lighter in color, stood upright almost like an antenna in the center of the coil. The snake regarded me malevolently while its wicked-looking forked tongue flickered in and out.
An involuntary shudder shook me, bringing me back to the problem at hand. 'I've got to talk to the Crenshaws,' I said. 'Would you take me to their place?'
Shorty glanced at his watch. 'You're not going to the meeting? The vans will be leaving in a few minutes.'
'Goddamnit, Shorty. Person or persons unknown tried to kill me this afternoon. It's about time someone at
