Snakebit

by Linsey Lanier

  “What have you done with her?”

  Deep, evil laughter echoed against the cave walls.

  “Where is she?” She spun around to face the voice.

  Instead the head of viper the size of a baseball lunged for her, fangs bared. She batted it away with her arm. As soon as she did, another appeared, its body slithering along the wall, its head snapping at her ear. She swung again and another came. Another and another.

  “Stop. Get away.”

  But the laughter only grew louder. “You’ll never escape us.” There were two voices now. She knew them both. “You’ll never have the strength. You are weak. You are nothing.”

  She’d showed them weak. She reared back and swung with all her might.

  Gasping, Miranda shot up off the mattress and batted the air with her fist.

  She opened her eyes and found herself standing beside the bed, tangled up in its silky sheet. Her heart pounding she blinked and looked around her.

  Daylight streamed in through the half-open blinds on the tall, sleek window. Absently her hand went to her chest, her fingers tracing the scars Leon had left there.

  She turned and saw Parker’s place was empty. She looked at the clock. Past seven.

  Then she heard water running in the bathroom.

  She hurried over to the doorway in time to see Parker stepping out of the big walk-in shower with its palace blue marble and golden fixtures. He had a towel around his waist, his hair was wet and water streamed down his magnificent pecs.

  A very welcome sight after that dream.

  “You didn’t wake me up,” she said.

  “I thought I’d let you sleep in a bit.” His gorgeous eyes narrowed. “You had another nightmare, didn’t you?”

  She let out a smirk. “It was about snakes. Go figure.”

  His frown was full of concern, but he knew better than to coddle her about her bad dreams. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  With a shrug, she turned back and started to pull on clothes. “What’s to talk about? I used to have one monster haunting my subconscious. Now I have two.” She reached for a red blouse.

  Parker’s low voice came over her shoulder. “You have an appointment with Dr. Wingate tomorrow.”

  She did, didn’t she? She pulled up mid-weight slate-gray slacks. “I’ll probably cancel. Time’s too short on this case.”

  “Now you’re really making me feel guilty.”

  She moved over to him and ran a hand over his cheek. “Not your fault. I love you for your noble nature. If Dr. Boudreaux is really innocent, I’m going to prove it. I promise.”

  “That’s my tigress.” He forced a smile. “Where are you going today?”

  “I’ll keep Becker and Holloway on Charmaine’s acquaintances. Wesson and I are headed for the zoo.”

  He eyed her clothes. “I’m not sure about that outfit.”

  She stepped back and looked down at herself. “Not professional enough?”

  “It’s fine. But the red color of that blouse might set off the bull elephant.”

  She could tangle with a cold-blooded killer. Large pachyderms were another thing. “Good thinking.”

  She grabbed a plain white top from the closet, changed quickly and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’ll take my car again. Gotta go. Love ya.”

  “I love you, too. Don’t forget to eat.”

  “Protein bar,” she called out as she hurried down the hall to the stairs.

  As he watched his beloved wife hurry out the bedroom door, Parker wondered whether this case would be good for her emotional health or make things worse for her. If only he had a definitive answer about Clarence.

  But Miranda and the team were the last card he had to play.

  As he heard her go out the door, he knew more surely than ever she was his match, his soul mate. No one else would take on a cause like this one with such fervor. Not for justice, but for the mere chance of justice. He’d never met anyone like her in his life.

  He would never stop being grateful she’d come back to him. Never stop being thankful she was his again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Miranda pulled into the Agency parking lot, she found Wesson dressed in a loud blue-and-yellow outfit with matching heels, leaning against her car filing her nails.

  Sheesh. If Wesson had gone on a date last night instead of reading the case file, Miranda was going to have to chew her out. That would be awkward. She didn’t like this arrangement of Parker’s at all. She was never meant to be a boss.

  Feeling self-conscious, she stopped the car just long enough for Wesson to get in, then she zoomed out of the lot and onto the highway.

  “You’re in a hurry today, Steele.”

  “The clock’s ticking on our client’s execution,” Miranda snapped.

  Ignoring her tone, Wesson let out a sad breath. “Yeah.”

  Miranda cleared her throat and bit the bullet. “Did you get your reading done?” She sounded like a fussy high-school teacher.

  “I did.”

  Miranda’s brows shot up in surprise. “You did?”

  “Of course, I did,” Wesson said, sounding a little defensive. “And I had a hard time sleeping because of it.”

  Okay. So she’d done her job. That was good. Now Miranda wanted to ask her if she dreamed of snakes, too. Then she decided she didn’t want to know.

  She zigzagged through surface streets until she could merge onto I-75. She took it south, hoping it would be a quick trip, but after ten minutes, they found themselves stuck in the famous Atlanta rush hour traffic.

  Groaning she sat back, resisting the urge to smack the steering wheel.

  Wesson stared out at a smelly semi beside them. “I’ve been thinking about that DNA.”

  “What about it?”

  “In his testimony in court, Dr. Boudreaux insisted he wasn’t with his wife that night. The prosecutor went after him hard about that.”

  “Yeah, he did.” Miranda recalled reading the verbal scourging in the trial transcript last night.

  “He had a point. That’s not something you’d just forget about.”

  “The prosecutor taunted him about that.”

  “Right.” Wesson lowered her voice mimicking the aggressive attorney. “‘You mean, you made love to your wife and just—forgot?’”

  Miranda wondered if she could forget making love to Parker. That would be hard to do.

  “I mean, he’s got to be lying, right?”

  She thought about that. “The trauma of finding his wife dead from the snake might have altered his memory somehow.”

  “Hard to believe.”

  Wesson was as cynical as she was. She kind of liked that. “A jury of twelve found it hard to believe, too.” Miranda let out a sigh. “Dr. Boudreaux told me yesterday he hadn’t had sex with his wife for some time before she died.”

  “Sounds like he’s really forgetful.”

  “Guess so.”

  Miranda remembered reading the psych eval they’d done on the doctor. She hadn’t understood all the language, but the upshot was he was highly intelligent but perfectly normal. Maybe he was playing them all.

  Pressing the brake again she thought about what Wesson had told her yesterday. She’d wanted a job in law enforcement, but sexual harassment had forced her out. She’d wanted to help her sister who’d gotten mixed up with an abuser in a motorcycle gang. She’d come all the way across country to get a new start in new career. Wesson might seem superficial, but this job meant a lot to her. Miranda didn’t have to worry about her sloughing off.

  But did she have to worry about hidden resentments like the ones Holloway had toward her? She thought of Wesson besting her on the firearms test when they were IITs. She thought of herself getting the better of Wesson in the ring.

  Probably. But there was little she could do about it.

  The traffic started to move, and they puttered along until they reached the exit, and took a convoluted curve and then a left into the neighborhood borderin
g the zoo. Another turn brought them to the parking lot.

  “Do you think we’ll find what we’re looking for here, Steele?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s see what Dr. Boudreaux’s colleagues have to tell us about him.”

  She got out of the car and made her way over the asphalt and up a long set of stairs to the main gate. Here the chirping of exotic birds rang out from the tall pines.

  At the ticket booth, a skinny young man in a bright orange T-shirt with the zoo’s logo greeted her with a giddy smiled. “Welcome to the zoo! How many tickets?” He had a thin neck with a large Adam’s apple that bobbed up and down when he talked.

  They shouldn’t have to pay for tickets. This was business.

  Miranda took out her ID card and handed it to the kid. “My name is Miranda Steele and this is Janelle Wesson. We’re with the Parker Investigative Agency and we’re looking into a case involving one of your employees.”

  He took the card, his eyes growing wide and his smile disappearing. “Oh, no. One of our employees? What happened? Have you called the police?”

  Miranda drew in a breath. “The incident happened a few years ago.” When this young man wasn’t long out of diapers. “A herpetologist on your staff was arrested for murder. We need to speak to someone who worked with him.”

  The young man handed her card back and shook off his fingers as if it were contagious. “A herpetologist? Murder? I haven’t heard anything about that. Are you sure?”

  Didn’t read the papers. And the zoo no doubt wasn’t mentioning the case. “Very sure. How can we get in touch with the staff members we’re looking for?”

  “Staff members are inside the gate. B-but you’ll have to buy a ticket.”

  Wesson batted her eyelashes at the young man. “Really? We won’t be here long.”

  He turned to her and drank her in with his eyes. The Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Uh, I could call my supervisor, but she doesn’t get in for another half hour. I’m not authorized to let anyone in without a ticket.”

  Wesson’s sex appeal went only so far. They didn’t have time to wait around.

  Fine. “How much?” Miranda grunted.

  He gave them the price for two adults and she dug out the cash. “I want a receipt,” she barked at him.”

  “Sure. Here you are.” He handed her two tickets and the paper.

  She stuffed them into her pocket. Something else for the expense report. Ugh.

  “So again, where do we find the staff members we’re looking for?”

  His face took on a lost look. “Well, you’d have to go to the reptile house, I guess. It’s that way.” He pointed over his shoulder.

  “Thanks,” she said in a tone that added, “for nothing,” and marched off in the direction he’d indicated.

  With mincing steps, Wesson caught up to her and stared down at her phone.“There’s a map online.”

  Miranda eyed her blue-and-yellow stilettos. “Maybe you want to wear lower heels next time?”

  “I’ll be okay. It isn’t that far. Look.”

  She took the phone and studied the colorful chart with cartoon-like drawings of animals. “It’s that way, like the guy in the booth said.”

  She started down the curving pavement with Wesson at her side.

  It was a weekday, so the place wasn’t too crowded. But it was sunny and warm for this time of year, so there were some folks around. Couples of various ages, loners. A few groups of school kids were taking in the sights, their excited shouts and squeals piercing the air.

  They passed a pool where several dozen pink flamingos were lazily strolling about, flexing their wings and squawking at each other. Another fifty feet brought them to warthogs and meerkats. A sign on the left invited them to feed an elephant. Thinking of the bull Parker had warned her about, she hurried across the path, hoping Wesson’s outfit wouldn’t attract his attention.

  After another hike around a curve, they ran into giraffes and lions and strange-looking birds.

  “I remember my parents taking my sister and me to the San Francisco Zoo when we were little,” Wesson said. “She loved the monkeys.”

  She sounded so wistful, she was making Miranda wonder about her life back in California. Wesson must have been really close to her sister to become a cop in Napa Valley for her. The boutique in LA made more sense. But she’d done well with her career. From the look of her you never would have guessed how tough she was. Unless you got to know her.

  After about ten minutes of walking, a tall glass building came into view. It was surrounded by a rocky exterior filled with slimy creatures crawling over boulders. Kind of like in her dream.

  The reptile house.

  She hurried up the steps, past a little boy feeding a giant turtle. At the top she stepped through tall glass doors and found herself inside the huge edifice.

  Here the walls were lined with glass-enclosed exhibits featuring a wide assortment of creatures in their natural habitats. The air echoed with children’s voices and what sounded like the hissing of serpents.

  Following the signs, Miranda headed down an aisle, eyeing the displays. There was a pool where turtles swam. Another display where lizards crawled along tree branches, and lots of enclosures with snakes. All kinds of them. Boas and pythons and cobras, oh my.

  “Oh.” Wesson stopped short at one of the displays. Inside a croc with huge teeth hissed at her.

  Miranda gave her a nudge. “I think he likes you.”

  Wesson’s brows were at her hairline. “He does remind me of a guy I dated once.”

  “Let’s look over here.” Miranda strolled around a corner and found herself in the venomous section.

  “This was the part Dr. Boudreaux was in charge of,” Wesson whispered in a reverential tone.

  “Yeah.” She eyed a green snake curled up on a leafy branch, almost completely camouflaged by it. Walking under a branch like that in the wild could get you dead.

  In the next case lay a rhino viper, so the sign said. It was gray and black and white with horns on the end of its nose. The next enclosure held something from Africa. It opened its mouth as they passed, striking at the glass with inch-long fangs.

  Wesson let out a little whimper, then tried to hide it.

  Miranda would have smiled, but her own skin was crawling. This was fun, but they weren’t getting anywhere. Where was the staff the kid at the entrance had promised them?

  Frustrated she turned another corner, but found only more exhibits of creepy looking creatures. She put her hands on her hips and looked around.

  Then she spotted it.

  “Look,” she said to Wesson, pointing. “Over there.”

  “The restrooms?”

  “Down that hall. There has to be something there.” She started for the small passageway.

  “If you say so.”

  She stepped into the darkened corridor, passed the door marked Men, the one marked Women, and went all the way down to the end.

  There she found another door. “See?”

  “Employees only,” Wesson read. “We can’t go in there.”

  “Why not?” She gave it a tug and it opened. “It isn’t locked. Our lucky streak is back.”

  Wesson’s eyes glistened with trepidation. “You go in first.”

  “Chicken.” But Miranda had to brace herself as she glided through the entry.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The space she found herself in was huge and brightly lit.

  Huge, but not open like the place for visitors. This area was cluttered with rows and stacks of bins and enclosures—much more utilitarian than the natural habitat displays outside. Exposed ductwork hung from metal rafters overhead, and the whir of fans covered the sound of hissing and growling and other eerie noises. The air was cold and had a slimy, rotting smell Miranda couldn’t identify, but suddenly it made her feel a little nauseous.

  She took the aisle on the left and picked her way along it, avoiding a metal step ladder and the locked containers with warn
ing signs.

  “Caution!” Wesson read in a whisper as she followed behind her. “Black Mamba. Do not open.”

  “Not about to.”

  Across from the containers were glass bins with more ductwork supplying air, and wires feeding electricity to fluorescent light bulbs. She could see the snakes in the cases. Green and copper-colored and black, their tongues lapping at her as she passed.

  “Where are we going, Steele?” Wesson murmured behind her, a note of desperation in her voice.

  She gestured ahead toward a blue wall. “There’s a door back there. I think it’s an office.”

  “Can’t imagine working in here.”

  “Can’t imagine doing this type of work.”

  “Point taken.”

  They passed a utility sink and more snakes stacked in cases three rows high in a metal framework. She had just reached the end of the row when Miranda heard a voice.

  “There now, Felix. You can go back to your den now.”

  She peeked around the support and saw a man in jeans and a tan T-shirt closing up one of the containers.

  Startled, he stared at her. “What are you doing in here? This area is for authorized personnel only.”

  He was an older man, maybe in his mid-forties. He wore dark-rimmed glasses and had dark, receding hairline and a well-trimmed black beard. His beer belly stretched the material of the T-shirt a bit, but she could make out the zoo logo and his name tag clearly.

  Dr. Walter Quigley. She recognized the name from the case file.

  “Dr. Quigley, I’m Miranda Steele and this is my colleague Janelle Wesson. We’re from the Parker Investigative Agency and we’re looking into Dr. Clarence Boudreaux’s case.”

  His thick dark brows shot up into his hairline. “You are? Dr. Boudreaux was convicted years ago.”

  “Yes, his execution is set for next week.”

  His face took on a dour look. “So I’ve heard. I’m so sorry, but I don’t know what I can do for you.”

  “We’re looking into the case again to see if we can find any discrepancies. May we have a moment of your time?”

  He removed his glasses and studied her while he cleaned them with the end of his shirt. “Miranda Steele. You’re Wade Parker’s wife. You’ve been in the news lately.”