“Does it have to be tonight?”
He turned, eyes examining her face. “Were you asleep?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She laughed. “Call it residual snake phobia.”
“You don’t like them.”
“No better and no less than the average person.”
“Yeah? They give me the creeps.”
His honesty surprised her. Most men she knew, even if they felt that way, would have been reluctant to admit it.
“He strike at you?”
She nodded, crossing her arms over her body as she remembered the near miss.
“So how come he didn’t hit you?”
“I don’t know. I heard him. But first…”
“What?” he asked when she hesitated.
“I remembered something my grandmother told me when I was a little girl.”
“Your grandmother?”
“We used to pick blackberries every summer when we went to visit her. Snakes love to hide in the vines. They stink—like goats, my grandmother told us—and that if we ever smelled that, we should run.”
“Goats?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what goats smell like. This was…rank. Unpleasant. I smelled it when I leaned over the hamper. Actually, I smelled it when I came into the bathroom, but I didn’t know what it was. Not until I heard the rattle. By that time…” She shivered, the image of that lethal, arrow-shaped head shooting out of the basket in her mind again. “In the middle of lifting the top off the basket, I just suddenly knew what was inside. I jumped back and let go of the lid. It fell on the snake. I don’t know whether that distracted him or whether he wasn’t long enough to get to me. And I didn’t stop to figure it out.”
“At least he warned you.”
“I wondered if that was deliberate.”
“On the part of the snake?” Again, there was that hint of amusement in his voice.
She found she didn’t mind it, even if it was at her expense. “On the part of whoever put it there.”
“You think…they didn’t intend for you to get bitten.”
“Wishful thinking?”
“Maybe. If this was a prank, it was a dangerous one. And they went to a lot of trouble to carry it off.”
“I don’t think it was a prank.”
“Yeah? Neither do I. For what it’s worth.”
“My kids knew we had dinner together.”
“So?”
“It was discussed in my senior English class yesterday.”
“And you think this is related.”
“Don’t you?”
“You first.”
“Maybe I’m too prone to look for symbolism, but…” She took a breath, steeling herself to say it. “I do believe it’s related. Somebody thinks I’m helping you.”
“So they put a snake in your house.”
“Snake in the grass,” she said softly.
“What?”
“They’re saying I’m a snake for helping you.”
“Sorry. A little too much symbolism for me.”
“Even the kind of snake they used, notorious for warning about its intentions to harm.”
“So…you think this was a warning?”
“Don’t you?”
He shrugged, his eyes tracking back to the window that had probably given them access to her home. Her sanctuary.
“If it isn’t a warning,” she prodded, “what is it?”
“It’s exactly what I told you before.”
“I don’t understand?”
“A new way to get that rush. You know. The one that, before we stopped them, they used to get from setting fires.”
Seven
No fingerprints on the window or the basket. Other than yours.” Jace flipped the page, eyes scanning the report he’d received shortly before Lindsey arrived at his office this afternoon. She’d given him a key to her house last night so that he could get a crew out there this morning. “And no footprints in the ground under it.”
It was exactly what he’d expected. Actually it was almost satisfying, although he didn’t think Lindsey Sloan was going to see it that way.
“So what you’re saying is you have nothing.”
“There’s also no sign of forced entry, and this time they checked every inch of the place. So…”
“So? I don’t understand.”
“They were careful to leave no evidence.”
“You think I’m right.” She sounded surprised.
“I think you might be. And I owe you an apology for getting you involved.”
“If you were right, I was already involved.”
“Because they’re your students?”
“As hard as it is for me to believe. And even accepting that…” She stopped, shaking her head.
“It’s harder to believe that they’d invade your home and threaten your life.”
And what had occurred was nothing less, Jace thought. This had not been the action of some unthinking kid. It had been a well-planned attack, vicious and cold-blooded.
Although snake bites were rarely fatal when treatment was available, they were extremely painful and carried a danger of infection and tissue loss. If Lindsey’s students were as smart as they were represented to be, they would know that. Or they would have taken the trouble to find it out.
They hadn’t meant to kill her. If they had, they would have chosen some other method. So she was probably also right about the symbolism.
“It’s hard to explain the connection
