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Authors: Rene Gutteridge

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Ainsley smiled and nodded, but looked lost. Maybe they shouldn’t talk about kids.

“Anyway, let’s hear what you’ve got planned for this big church event.”

“Right.” She reached into her brown leather bag, the only fashionable thing on the woman. A high ponytail paired with a boxy sweater went out in the late eighties. But then again, so did those kinds of boots. Luckily her expertise was food, not fashion.

“Well, here is what I thought we would serve. You want something that involves as little mess as possible, since we’re going to be indoors in the basement. We know it’s going to be cold enough to serve hot drinks, so I’ve got those listed on the side. I figure everyone is going to expect a lunchtime atmosphere, so I developed some finger foods that are deceivingly rich. They’ll look great on the trays, but we won’t have to serve a lot because people will get full easily. For dessert, we’re going to have children running around, so I stayed simple, and have three items that won’t need forks or napkins.”

Katelyn read through the list. Shockingly, it was perfect. Maybe this lady did know what she was doing. “What’s the cost?”

“I’ve got it circled on the bottom right-hand corner on the fourth page.”

Katelyn flipped it over. “Are you serious?”

“Too much?”

“Too much? No! I can’t believe you can do all this for that amount of money!” She looked up at Ainsley, who for the first time looked delighted. “That’s amazing.”

“It’s what I do. People don’t have a lot of money around here, so I’ve learned to cater on a budget.”

Katelyn smiled broadly. “Well! This will allow for decorations, too!”

“That includes decorations.”

Katelyn set the paper down on the table and clasped her hands. “Unbelievable.”

“You like it.”

“I love it!” Katelyn handed back the paper. “I think this is going to be the best indoor children’s picnic ever!”

“Actually it’s the only one we’ve had. I’m so amazed at what you’ve done to the church basement.”

“Kids love murals and puppets and music. I think it’ll be a big hit.” Katelyn found her wallet and made out a check. She handed it to Ainsley and said, “You’re hired.”

Ainsley slumped with relief. “Thank you so much. I really thought I’d blown it.”

Katelyn checked her watch. “I’ve got to run. You have my number. Call me with any questions.” She stood and shook Ainsley’s hand.

“All right. Thanks.”

Katelyn pulled on her coat and grabbed her handbag. She could say one thing for this town—it was full of surprises.

C
HAPTER
15

M
ARTIN HOPPED OUT
of his car and shouldered through the crowd toward Leonard, who stood on the top step at the community center, looking uncharacteristically overwhelmed. The mayor was behind him, tapping the mans back like it was a drum.

Nearly knocking an old woman over—though he didn’t feel bad because she was yelling with the might of four men—Martin reached Leonard and the mayor, out of breath and hardly able to ask, “What is going on?”

Leonard took a few steps back, pulling Martin with him and then turning his back so they’d have a chance to hear each other. “It’s the flour.”

“The flour?”

“The flour trick. To catch a snake.”

“What about it?”

Leonard glanced back at the crowd. “Well, urn … well … “ “Spit it out!”

“Apparently the flour revealed that everyone, unbeknownst to them, has some sort of critter living in their house.”

Martin turned toward the crowd. Their eyes were wide, their faces desperate. He looked back at Leonard.

Leonard continued. “We’ve had reports of snake tracks, mouse prints, lizard prints, and someone even claims they’ve got an alligator hiding in their house.”

Martin slapped a hand to his forehead. How could he not have seen
this coming? Of course everyone sleeps better when they’re not aware of what lurks behind the walls. A woman screamed hysterically, causing Martin and Leonard to glance back. It was Lois Stepaphanolopolis.

Martin forced his attention back on Leonard. “So what are you going to do about this?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you! You got everybody into this!”

“My expertise is with snakes, not rodents.”

Martin grabbed Leonard’s shoulders and turned him toward the mayor. “See that?”

“What? The mayor doing aerobics for no reason?”

“Yeah. The mayor doesn’t deal with things like this well, and he’s been acting strangely lately, so you better figure out a solution and fast. We don’t need mass hysteria in this town right now. For the first time in a long time, we’re seeing a little hope for Skary, and I will not have it undone by the likes of you!”

Leonard’s casually set eyes grew wider with each word.

“Now fix this mess!” Martin yelled over the madness.

Leonard and Martin watched the sheriff and two deputies pull up. There was so much shouting and screaming, Martin wasn’t sure if either one of them could be heard. He signaled the sheriff to get his bullhorn.

“I-I-I’m not sure,” Leonard stuttered, “what I should do.”

Martin sighed and grabbed Leonard by the arm to bring him toward the crowd. The sheriff stepped up and handed Martin the bullhorn. “What in the world—”

“I’ll explain in a moment,” Martin told the sheriff. Then he said to Leonard. “Now. Follow my lead, and for crying out loud, look confident, as if you expected this all along.”

Martin put the bullhorn up to his lips and said, “Folks, we need you
to calm down. Please, everyone. We’ve got to settle down before we can address the situation.”

One by one, the people in the crowd hushed. Martin drew in a breath and glanced at the mayor, wondering if he might want to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. He was standing to one side, staring into space.

“Okay. First of all, let’s get some organization going, since obviously the objective of this is to find the boa constrictor. So step over to the right if you believe the tracks you saw in your flour were those of a small rodent. We’re talking mice, rats, hamsters, anything like that.”

About forty people stepped to the right.

“Okay, good. Now, step toward the back if you believe the tracks you saw were of a small reptile, body width no more than an inch or inch and half. This includes lizards, as you’ll have the foot and body or tail tracks.”

About twenty people stepped toward the back.

“All right, great. Now, step to the left over here if the tracks you found in your home were about three inches wide or more.”

Four people stepped to the left.

Martin turned to Leonard, who was about to trot down the stairs toward the people on the left. He grabbed his shirt and yanked him back. “Not so fast, snake boy.”

“What?” Leonard frowned. “We’ve got four potential candidates here.”

“I realize that. And they’re going to hang tight. But see these other sixty people? You’re going to go down there and in some rodent-authority way make them understand that every house has rodents, and that just because they’re aware of them now doesn’t mean anything unusual is going on. Use statistics. People like statistics.”

“I don’t know any statistics about mice and lizards.”

“Then make some up. I don’t care. But what I better see when you’re done is a whole bunch of people who love and appreciate their rodent friends. Got it?”

Martin gave him a little shove forward, until they both noticed one person still standing in the middle where the crowd had once been: Lois Stepaphanolopolis.

“Um … Lois? What are you doing?” Martin asked, now able to hand the bullhorn back to the sheriff.

Tears glistened in her eyes. “I don’t know where I should go.”

“You had tracks last night?”

She nodded.

Martin approached her. “Okay, well, what kind of creature do you think you have in your house?”

She sniffled. “A stranger.”

“What’s all the chaos in town about?” Alfred asked. He handed Wolfe his coat as he stepped inside.

“What chaos?”

“At the community center?”

“Oh, that. I think they were having a town meeting or something.”

“Looked like a riot to me.”

“You’re going to have to keep your voice down,” Wolfe instructed him as he hung his coat up.

“Why?”

“Well, it’s kind of a long story, but—”

“Hi Alfred!” Ainsley appeared in the entryway.

“She’s not keeping her voice down,” Alfred observed.

“Nobody has to whisper.”

Wolfe frowned. “I thought she was being overstimulated.”

“I got her calmed down.” Ainsley looked at Alfred. “Do you want to come see her?”

Wolfe was about to protest, but Alfred said, “See … what?”

“She’s feeling much better,” Ainsley announced proudly, bringing Alfred along by the arm.

“Who is?”

Wolfe trudged along behind, his hands stuffed in his pockets. How much more of this he could take, he wasn’t sure. Last night he’d taken Ainsley out for dinner, hoping to relax her a little. She was relaxed for the whole dinner, but as soon as they got home, it all came undone. Aliens had abducted his common-sense, clearheaded wife and replaced her with—

“Isn’t she just a breath of fresh air?” Ainsley asked, sweeping her arm toward Melb, who was sitting up on the couch eating raw carrots.

Alfred jabbed his thumb that direction. “Her?”

“Melb. Yes.”

Alfred glanced at Wolfe, who could only shrug and encourage him with an expectant look.

Ainsley added, “She’s got the rosiest cheeks, wouldn’t you say? And look at that smile.”

On cue, Melb turned and gave them a big smile, her cheeks full of crunched-up carrots.

“Uh … yes. She’s so …”

“Healthy,” Ainsley declared. “That’s her third vegetable today.”

Alfred, being the gentleman he always tried to be, smiled and graciously looked interested. But it was too painful a sight, so Wolfe said, “Alfred, why don’t we step into my office? We can talk there.”

With the door closed, Alfred’s gentlemanly disposition slid off him like a silk gown. “What kind of freak show did I just witness?”

“Don’t ask. I’m waiting for E.T. to return my wife.” Wolfe sat down at his desk and offered Alfred a seat. “So you seemed excited on the phone.”

“Yeah. For one, I can get cell phone service. But besides that, I have a new direction in my life.”

“Being an agent again.”

“Not just any agent,” Alfred said with a dramatic gesture pointing toward the ceiling, “but the top agent in this industry.”

“What industry?”

“You know … the ‘religious’ industry.” Alfred fanned himself with his hand. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?”

“It’s hot. Ainsley has the heat turned up to seventy-five.”

“Good. Because for a second there I thought I might be feeling guilt.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, I have to say, I find it hard to mix the two. Business and religion. I mean, they don’t seem to coexist all that well. But Wolfe, I’m telling you, there is money to made in this industry. And you’ll be proud to know that I’ve actually resigned myself not to steal anyone’s client.”

“You’ve come a long way.”

“I know. But the thing is, I don’t actually have to steal anybody. Tons of people don’t even have representation.”

“Really?”

“And not just people, but megastar people. Some of them have been on the religious bestsellers list for years. Decades!”

“They don’t have agents?”

“Nope. I’ve called everyone I know and a lot of people I don’t. So I’m going after them.”

“Seems like they’ve done okay without an agent.”

“Yes. But one can always do better, my friend. They’re probably not making near what they’re worth. I’ve looked up some sales figures. Astonishing.”

“Well,” Wolfe said, leaning back into his chair and entwining his fingers, “I’m glad you’ve found a new direction.”

“How’s your writing coming along?”

Wolfe mindfully kept his expression unchanged. “Fine. I’ve got some good ideas going.”

“What ideas?”

“Top secret for now,” he said, taking a cue from his brother-in-law. He actually said that with a straight face.

Alfred’s eyebrows shot up. “Interesting. You of course know I’m open to seeing whatever you’ve developed.”

Wolfe nodded.

“But you’ll have to understand that I won’t be at your beck and call like before.” Alfred crossed his legs. “My client list has grown, and will continue to grow.”

“You’ve got one other person.”

“True. But she does require a lot of my attention. She’s new to this. I left her last night writing in a descriptive violent scene. It was half a page and it took her three hours. I finally had to say to her, ‘Doris, it’s a severed limb. Make the guy convulse and writhe and get on with it.’”

“I thought it was a love story and they don’t like violence.”

“It is, and I know. I had a hard time finding a good place to add the gore, but we finally decided on a bizarre mattress accident. The two characters were headed into forbidden territory anyway, so it worked out perfectly. The more I study it, violence is acceptable, but it has to be written in an accidentally-happened-and-nobody’s-responsible way.”

The office door opened, and Ainsley poked her head in. “Honey,
I’m running to the store. Melb’s taking her morning nap, so you two keep it quiet. She should sleep the whole time I’m gone, but if she wakes up, there’s a glass of milk in the fridge for her.”

“Okay,” Wolfe smiled.

The door shut, and Alfred said, “Don’t look now, but your life has done a one-eighty.”

Sheriff Parker drove toward Lois’s house, handing her one tissue after another as she sobbed uncontrollably in the passenger’s seat. At the only stoplight in town, he glanced back at Thief, whose ears were laid flat in annoyance. He’d never ridden in the backseat before. And until lately, all he’d wanted to do was stay at home with Blot. But like with all men, that got old after a while. For the last couple of days he’d followed the sheriff out the door and hopped into the cruiser. The sheriff didn’t ask questions. He didn’t have to. He was a man.

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