High Noon Page 0,98
and through to the courtyard. By now she was queazy, and little bubbles of hysterical laughter kept rising in her throat. She dumped it all, snake and the nearly brand-new umbrella, into the trash. Slammed down the lid.
There was probably an ordinance against putting a dead reptile, uncovered, unsecured, in a trash can. But just screw that, she decided.
She'd done all she was doing.
She'd call the waste management company. She'd bribe the trashman. She'd offer him sexual favors.
She backed away from the trash can. Her legs carried her as far as the steps of the back veranda, where she just let herself drop. Damn cat. She was going to find out whose damn cat was running loose, killing things and leaving their corpses on her property.
Though where some cat had flushed out a snake that size in the city of Savannah, she couldn't say. No, it was some idiot kid, that's what it was. Johnnie Porter or his ilk.
No longer in the mood for iced tea or girl talk, she rose, intending to go up and straight to bed.
She heard the whistling when she reached the door, and this time the chill arrowed straight to her belly.
He about busted a gut! He couldn't think of the last time anything had struck him so funny, until actual tears were streaming from his eyes. He'd had to wipe them more than once to keep his vision clear through the long night-vision lens of the camera.
Goddamn, the way she'd jumped! Had to damn near piss herself.
His ribs ached from keeping the laughter down to a snickering, bodyshaking snort instead of a belly-busting guffaw.
He'd expected her to take a wild leap over it, but hell, had to say she was made of sterner stuff. It only made it funnier and more interesting.
It had been a piece of good luck to come across that black snake, and to realize after giving its head a good solid smash with a shovel that he could use it. But, he could admit now, he hadn't known it would tickle him so to watch her deal with it.
He bet she didn't sleep half the night, and when she did, she'd dream of snakes.
Him? He was going home to print out the pictures, have himself another laugh. Then he was going to sleep like a baby.
She didn't sleep well. And there were enough scenarios and possibilities running around in her head that she gave it up shortly after dawn and called Carter.
When Josie answered, Phoebe launched into apologies, got a grunt in return. Then Carter's sleepy voice came on the line.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've waited until a decent hour to call."
"Too late."
"Well, I'm sorry, but I need you to come over here and look at something for me."
"What is it? A mermaid? A three-headed fish? The new Jaguar you bought me out of sisterly love and devotion? Because otherwise? Zzzzzzz."
"Don't you make snoring noises at me, Carter. I need you to get your ass out of that bed, put on some clothes and come over here. Right now. I don't want to wake up anyone else in the house, so you come around by the courtyard, you hear?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Bossy and bitchy. There better be coffee."
He'd come. He'd grumble about it but he'd come. So she dressed quickly then tiptoed down to make coffee. She had two mugs in hand when she slipped outside to wait for him.
There'd been two thunderstorms in the night-she'd heard them both. The stones in the courtyard were still wet from the rain that had pounded down in those quick and violent intervals. There was a haze in the air, the pretty kind that would burn off within an hour or two and leave everything sparkling.
She sipped her coffee and watched drops of water drip, drip from the burgundy leaves of the little weeping peach Ava had planted the year before.
She heard Carter's feet on the path to the gate, and was opening the heavy cast iron before he reached it.
His hair was sleep-tossed, his eyes still heavy. He wore sweats and a Savannah U T-shirt with a pair of ancient running shoes. A knight in the shiniest of armor couldn't have looked better to her.
He scowled, grabbed the coffee. "Where's the damn body?" he demanded. "In the trash can."
He choked on his first swallow of coffee. "What?"
"That one there." She pointed, keeping her distance.
"You kill somebody, Phoebs? Want me to help you bury him out here in Ava's garden?"
She just