Aroma With a View, page 9
“That’s an excellent description,” Marjorie said. She flushed again. “I’ll admit, I’m rewatching the entire season.” She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry for getting my back up about your questions. It’s been a stressful month. Like everyone around here, the gallery is struggling. Davis is doing his best to extend the gallery’s reach, but you know how it is.”
“I do.” We’d been so lucky to get the medical spa contract. “I didn’t mean to come off like an interrogator.”
Marjorie pished and made a swatting motion in the space between us. “I did fight with Dolly. She could be hardheaded. I thought combining some of her dolls with the artwork would have been good for both of us, business-wise. I wanted to pose them to mirror the canvases, but she flat-out refused. I’ll admit, I was irritated with her, but not enough to do something so heinous.” She fixed her gaze on me. “You believe me, don’t you?”
“I do,” I said.
Ezra put his arm around my shoulders. “We better get going. We have a lunch reservation.”
Marjorie forced a smile. “I hope to see you both Friday night.”
As we walked back to Ezra’s truck, I gave him a side-long look. “Reservations?”
“At the finest establishment in Garden Cove.”
“And where might that be?”
“The Taco Shake Shack, of course.”
The Taco Shake Shack was the oldest drive-thru diner in Garden Cove, and it served the best milkshakes and tacos in the state as far as I was concerned. The man definitely knew the way to my heart.
I turned into him and gave him a kiss that I hoped conveyed just how lucky I felt to have him in my life. After, I said, “Gilly was right. You are fancy.”
Ezra’s gaze softened as the slip of a smile played on his lips. “Only the best for my girl.” He gave me a quick pat on the rear and said, “First shakes and then snakes.”
I pressed my hand to my chest. “Be still, my heart.”
Chapter
Twelve
The odor in the office of Scales, Scales, Scales smacked me in the face as we entered. It was as if a skunk, a rotting egg, and a dead body had combined into the most putrid concoction I’d ever smelled. I gagged.
“What the hell died in here?” Ezra pinched his nose.
It was undeniably potent. “I can actually taste it.” The tacos and shakes began to gurgle in my tummy. Two heaters were going in the room, along with a humidifier, and it really enhanced the pungency. I opened the door to let some fresh air in.
“Christ almighty, something crawled up this snake’s butt and died,” a man says by an open door. He’s wearing a beanie, so I can’t tell what color his hair is.
“It’ll be fine once she settles,” a bald guy says. I can only see the back of his head as he uses gloved hands and a hook to carry a red-, yellow-, and black-ringed snake to an open green tub. “She’ll make you a really nice companion.”
“It stinks. I didn’t expect it to smell this bad.” He waves his hand. “I change my mind. I don’t want the snake.”
The man with the hook turns on the guy, holding the angry snake out in front of him. He has a scraggly beard that stretches past his neck to his chest. “I’ve already paid to have her brought here for you. You’re not getting your money back if that’s what you think.”
“I paid you five thousand dollars.”
The bald guy laughs and thrusts the snake toward the man. “You gonna call the cops?”
The backdoor to the office opened as the vision faded, and a bald man with a long, braided beard and lots of tattoos walked in. He wore skinny jeans that looked like they been used to clean up a grease spill, a tank top that was cut open under the arms, a pair of combat boots that looked as if they hadn’t seen a shine in years. He waggled a finger at us. “Close the door, you damn fools. You’re letting all the heat out.”
He was hardly dressed for winter, but I didn’t say anything as I let go of the door, and it swung closed.
The man’s nose wrinkled as the stench hit him. “Lordy sakes, Petey.” He waved his hand in front of his nose, then cackled. “Something must have startled Petey for him to release that much musk.”
I looked around the office. Other than an empty-looking screened-in cage with some branches situated in the middle, I didn’t see any Peteys. I cast a startled glance at Ezra. Had we let a snake out?
Ezra frowned. I could tell he was wondering the same thing.
“Uhm, what’s a Petey?” I asked.
“He’s hiding up under the lid.” The bearded man walked over, opened the lid, reached inside, and retrieved a three-foot red-, black-, and yellow-ringed snake. “Here’s Petey, and I’m Johnny Scales, the owner of this here zoo. Are you folks here for a tour?”
I took several steps back as the snake coiled around Johnny’s wrist. “Why don’t you take the lead, honey,” I said to Ezra.
He smirked and shook his head. “I’ll just hang back here with you for now.”
“Is that thing poisonous?” I asked. It looked an awful lot like a coral snake, and I knew those were super deadly. Ever since the copperhead incident, I’d been googling poisonous snakes.
“Petey here poisonous?” Johnny shook his head. “Not hardly. He’s got killer looks, but that’s about it. He’s a non-venomous scarlet kingsnake, or what some folks call a milk snake. I picked him up from a dealer in Virginia a couple years back.”
“He looks deadly.”
Johnny scales grinned, and I could see he was missing one of his front teeth, and the remaining ones were slightly yellow and cracked in appearance. “As the saying goes, yellow on red, you’re probably dead, but red on black, he’s friendly, Jack.” The reptile wrangler laughed again. He held up the snake again. “See, Petey has red on black, so his bite isn’t poisonous. Coral snakes are the venomous ones.”
Petey might have been black touching red, but in the vision, I was sure the snake he’d been holding was yellow touching red. Was Johnny illegally selling venomous snakes to people?
Ezra coughed at the lingering scent. “And the smell?”
“He’s small, but his musk is mighty. He releases it when he’s scared. You all must have startled him when you came inside. I usually watch for cars pulling into the parking lot, but I was feeding the rest of my beauties.” He put Petey back in his cage, dusted his hands on his jeans, and held out a hand. “That’ll be ten dollars each for the tour.”
I stopped Ezra with a slight shake of my head before he could introduce himself as a police detective. “Sure,” I told Johnny. “That sounds fair.”
Ezra gave me a questioning look, and I touched my nose and gave him what I hoped was a go with me on this one look back. If Johnny was selling deadly snakes, maybe he’d sold Coop to someone willing to pay.
He shrugged, then took out his wallet and produced a twenty-dollar bill. He handed Johnny Scales the money. “Let’s see what you got.”
Johnny Scales led us down a covered corridor across the grass that consisted of winterizing plastic and two-by-fours. “I built this to keep out as much of the elements as possible during the cold months. It cuts down on the heating bill.”
Up ahead, there was a sign over a door that said, “The Slither Pit.” Johnny pushed three slide bolts open, then smiled back at us. “Welcome to the pit,” he said.
I felt the same nervous energy I’d had the first time I went on a roller coaster. I wanted to ride and run all at the same time. There was no way I was taking the chicken exit, no matter how scared I might be.
However, I did grasp Ezra’s arm with two hands and held on tight. He patted my wrist and smiled. “Fun date, huh?”
“So far,” I told him.
The Slither Pit was wall-to-wall terrariums. Johnny grouped them into poisonous versus non-poisonous and then by color. Each habitat had a sticker in the right-hand corner that gave information about the snake enclosed.
“This is Shorty,” Johnny said of a brown and reddish-brown snake in one of the larger cages. “He is a red-tail boa constrictor all the way from Peru. The males of his species are thinner and not as long as the females, but he can grow over ten feet long. Although he’s already seven years old and only six feet in length, so he probably won’t get that big. It’s why I named him shorty.”
“He seems plenty big to me,” Ezra said.
“Same,” I agreed. Six feet was more snake than I wanted to come up against. “Is it dangerous?”
“Nah. Not unless provoked. The red-tail make good pets because they are one of the gentler snakes out there.” He cackled. “Why, are you looking for something to take home? I could probably get you a deal.”
I blanched. “Uhm, I might be interested in something a little more…exotic if you’re selling.”
Johnny squinted at me. “What do you mean by exotic?”
Ezra said, “Go ahead, sweetheart. Tell him what you mean.”
“You know, something in the more lethal department.” I walked over to his wall of venomous snakes. I pointed at a timber rattlesnake. “Something like this fellow.” I gulped as I took in the large rattle on the end of his tale. My throat was dry as I rasped out, “Isn’t he cute?”
“Adorable,” I heard Ezra say.
“You all aren’t cops, are you?” Johnny asked. “You have to tell me if you are.”
“Nope,” Ezra said. “No cops here.”
I couldn’t believe how many people still thought that police in plain clothes or in sting operations had to identify themselves. It simply wasn’t true, but it was easier to let Johnny believe what he wanted.
“I’m not a cop,” I said. “I want one of these beautiful creatures for my home terrarium. It’ll make a great conversation starter.”
Ezra let out a sharp snort then reined himself in. “It would be the life of the party,” he added. Then to Johnny, he asked, “How much?”
“Rain there is special to me.” He stroked the braid in his beard. “It’s gonna hurt to part with him.”
“What would it take to make it hurt less?” I asked.
“Twenty-five hundred,” Johnny said without any hesitation.
“Is that how much you charged the person who bought Coop?” Ezra fished.
Johnny frowned. “How do you know about Coop?”
“Who did you sell the copperhead to?” I asked him.
“Hey, you said you weren’t the police.”
“I’m not,” I told him.
Ezra smiled. “I’m Detective Ezra Holden, so you can answer a few questions about the copperhead you sold.” He shrugged. “Or I can arrest you right now for the illegal sale of venomous snakes.”
“No money changed hands, so technically, I didn’t sell you anything.”
“Once you named your price, you incriminated yourself,” Ezra said.
I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I liked Ezra’s style. “Of course,” he added, “You do have the right to remain silent and the right to an attorney, but once that happens, I can’t help you out anymore.”
“I’m just trying to make a living out here,” Johnny protested. He raised his hands and started backing away from us. “You know how much it costs to feed my babies? Buying mice in bulk is expensive. I only sell a few snakes to help make ends meet. I’m not a bad guy.”
“Stay where you are,” Ezra cautioned him.
Johnny took another step backward until his back was against one of the glass habitats. My new Lasik eyes were great, but the sticker was too far away for me to tell what snake was in the case.
“Ezra,” I warned.
He was going to his backup pistol at his ankle as Johnny unlatched the cage, slid open the glass door.
“Don’t do it,” I squealed as he reached back and grabbed the snake. In a flash, the thick-bodied reptile seemed to float out onto the air in a gravity-defying moment that made my stomach drop. I staggered backward as its head puffed out into a giant hood.
“Oh, God,” Ezra said, yanking me behind him. “Cobra.”
Johnny, holding the tail of the cobra, shouted. “I’m not going back to prison!”
Suddenly, the snake turned on him and struck him on the hand. He reflexively yanked his hand back, and the snake went back into his terrarium.
“I’m bit!” Johnny held his hand against his side as he slumped to the ground. “King cobra antivenom,” he said. “It’s in the fridge. Hurry. I can’t…it’s getting harder to breathe.”
I got my phone out. “Calling 9-1-1.”
“Good,” Ezra said. “I’ll contain the snake.” Ezra, his gun trained on the cobra, slid the glass door closed and latched it. “Where’s the refrigerator?” he asked Johnny.
Johnny shook his head, unable to talk, much less move. Ezra took off in search of the fridge. The venom of the cobra was taking effect quicker than the copperhead’s poison had on Carrie. Johnny was pale, sweaty, and his respirations were fast and shallow.
When the emergency operator answered, I said, “We need an ambulance at Scales, Scales, Scales off Highway 49, ramp 57, on the far side of Bunny’s Triple X. A man’s been bitten by a,” I looked at the sticker, “a king cobra.”
Johnny slumped over. “Hurry,” I told the operator. “I don’t think he has much time.”
Chapter
Thirteen
“I swear I’m going to put 9-1-1 on speed dial,” I said as I sat with Ezra on the open tailgate of his truck, waiting for the police and conservation officers to arrive.
Ezra had found a fridge under Johnny’s office desk with a box of six ten-milliliter vials with white powder in them marked as antivenom for a tiger snake, but a piece of paper with the words King Cobra was taped to the side. There were also a couple of vials of saline. Unfortunately, neither of us knew where the syringes were or even how to administer a dose.
The EMTs arrived. They were from Rasfield, not Garden Cove. Rasfield wasn’t in our county, but its emergency services and the hospital were closer to the scene. Johnny was barely breathing when they arrived, and his pulse was thready and weak. They immediately intubated Johnny and started bagging him. Since King Cobras weren’t native to the area, they took the vials of antivenom powder with them. Ezra called Shawn to let him know what went down at the snake farm. Shawn told him he’d call Rasfield PD and coordinate with them on Johnny’s custody if he survived.
I had my doubts. While the paramedics worked the scene, I worked Google on my smartphone.
“Did you know that it can take up to fifty doses of antivenom to counteract the paralysis caused by the neurotoxin from a king cobra snake bite?”
Ezra shuddered. “Why in the world would someone keep something so lethal?”
“And,” I added, “even with the antivenom, often a victim has to be put on a ventilator so the machine can breathe for them until the paralysis in their lungs wears off.”
Ezra touched his throat. “Yikes.”
“And then some.” I put away my phone and laced my fingers with his. “I hope he makes it. I really want to know who bought the copperhead from him.”
“I’m guessing you got a vision when we got here. Tell me about it.”
“He sold a coral snake, at least I think it was a coral snake, to someone for five thousand dollars. From what I could tell, the musk of a coral snake stinks just as badly as the musk of a scarlet king snake because the buyer had some serious remorse over his purchase.”
Ezra chuckled. “I bet he did.”
“I remembered you saying that it was illegal to buy and sell venomous snakes, so I figured Johnny was doing a little under the table dealing.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “You figured right.” He turned my hand over in his. “Hey, you were good in there. You’d make a decent undercover cop.”
“There’s only one decent cop I want to be under the covers with,” I replied warmly. “But I know what you mean. Thanks. I appreciate the compliment. I’m happy you trusted me enough to go along with it.”
“I do trust you, Nora. I hope you know that. I hope you trust me, too.”
I gave his hand a squeeze. “I do, Ezra. On both counts.”
Two conservation officers showed up at Scales, Scales, Scales after the ambulance left. They parked their brown van next to Ezra’s pickup.
Ezra got up to greet them.
I recognized one of the men as Perry Porter. He’d been a year ahead of me in high school, and one of the best defensive players Garden Cove’s football team had ever seen. His hair had a touch of gray at the temples, and it was thinner than it used to be, and his narrow waist had gotten thicker over the years. But his neck and arms still looked like they were built out of tree trunks. Gilly had crushed on Perry our entire junior year. I couldn’t wait to tell her that I ran into him.
“Hi, Perry,” I said. “Remember me?”
His light gray eyes lit up as he recognized me. “Well, hot damn, Nora Black. Wow. It’s been a minute, but you still look great.” He smiled, and it made his face appear years younger. “I heard you and Shawn got married,” he said. “He’s a lucky man.” Shawn had been a year ahead of me in school as well, and he’d been an athlete, so he and Perry had palled around a bit.
“We’re divorced,” I said quickly.
“Too bad for Shawn. So you’re single?”
Ezra’s gaze fell on me as I said, “Nope. Not single either.”
“I’m Detective Ezra Holden,” Ezra said. “I’m in charge of the scene for now.”
“Perry Porter,” Perry said as he shook Ezra’s hand. He gestured to the young woman who was getting equipment from the side of the van. “That’s Evelyn. She’s our local herpetologist.” I must have looked as confused as I was because he clarified, “Snake expert.”
“Gotcha,” I said.
“If you’ll show me the way, Detective,” Evelyn said. She had short brown hair and glasses, probably in her early thirties, and she had a large duffel bag over her shoulder. “I’ll get started on categorizing the reptiles.”
Ezra took her inside the building while I stayed outside with Perry.
“I’m surprised to see you in conservation. I always thought you’d go on to coach high school or college ball. You were really great.”
