his cruiser. The firemen got back on their truck and drove away. The crate of hissing and rattling snakes was loaded into the animal control van.
Dash and Bubba came out of the theater.
“Oh, boy,” Bubba said, “wait until WLTX sees this footage. We’re going to make the evening news, I’m sure. Especially since Dash did most of the work, and he’s a former big-league baseball star.” Bubba ran up the street, headed for Bill’s Grease Pit.
“You’re all clear,” Dash said. “But, honey, you need a cat.”
“Don’t snakes eat cats? I wouldn’t want to put a cat in danger,” she replied. “I like furry animals better than scaly ones.”
“I figured that when I saw those humane mousetraps. You will be happy to know that we didn’t kill any snakes today, because rattlers are practically an endangered species in these parts. But, princess, snakes and cats both eat mice. And without a cat to eat the mice, you can get snakes. Usually just black snakes, which are harmless. But I’m telling you, you need a cat.”
There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He’d had a lot of fun catching those snakes. She could tell. And that made her want to laugh for some reason. Despite the scary nature of this problem, she found herself looking up into his bright blue eyes and feeling lighter than air.
“Well, c’mon,” he said, “we made a full sweep of the place. It’s snake-free, but I can’t say the same for the rodents. Let’s get back to work. The excitement is over.”
He offered her his hand, and she let him pull her up out of the lawn chair. That was a big mistake. His hand was huge, and warm, and obviously competent. Not only had he played baseball with those hands, but he also fixed broken porch steps, played Ultimate Frisbee, and wrangled snakes. Her libido woke up and made a number of urgent demands. This time the fluttery, hot feelings in her middle weren’t entirely unwanted.
A girl could get used to a guy like this. He wasn’t Superman. He couldn’t fly, but he was doing a real impersonation of a hero.
Dash was wrestling with a bunch of vet bills in his office at the Painted Corner Stables on Monday morning when Stone Rhodes, the sheriff of Allenberg County, paid him a visit.
“I guess you’re here to talk about Lizzy,” Dash said.
“Uh, well, no, not exactly,” the sheriff said.
“What’s up?”
Stone sat down in the chair facing Dash’s desk. “It’s about those snakes you found in the theater.”
“What about them?”
“They’re western diamondbacks. According to the herpetologist up in Orangeburg, they aren’t native to South Carolina.
Stone leaned back in his chair. “We’re working on the assumption that those snakes were put there on purpose. Do you have any idea of who might want to sabotage Savannah’s theater renovation?”
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.