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Authors: Rene Gutteridge

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BOOK: Boo Hiss
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“Her symptoms, not her behavior,” the doctor suggested quietly.

“Oh.” Oliver shifted his eyes and body away from Melb. In a more controlled manner he said, “And then there’s the nausea and the fatigue. She’s not running a fever, but she does have frequent headaches. And”— Oliver swallowed and looked hesitant—”and she seems to have developed a healthy appetite. And by healthy I mean humongous.”

Dr. Hoover cautiously approached Melb. “Not one more step,” she said.

“Melb, don’t you want to know what’s wrong with you? Don’t you want to feel better?” Dr. Hoover asked.

“No,” she said, shuddering. “I just want to be left alone.”

Ainsley stepped forward and sat on the couch with her, taking her hand. “We just all hate to see you this miserable. Dr. Hoover is a great doctor.”

“And I promise, no shots,” he said.

Melb looked suspicious, but it got her attention. She perused him with sharp eyes. “I’m deathly afraid of tongue depressors, and no, drawing a smiley face and making it do a little dance won’t help.”

Dr. Hoover didn’t looked deterred. “What if I told you all I’m going
to use is this small plastic cup?” It appeared in his hand like a magic trick.

“Are you going to fill it with chocolate milk?” Melb asked. “No. But I do have a sucker for you if you’ll be a good girl.” “Cherry?” Sure.

Melb glanced at Oliver, then Ainsley, who nodded enthusiastically.

Dr. Hoover opened his hand up and slowly reached toward Melb. She scowled at Oliver, looked worriedly at Ainsley, then slowly took the doctors hand. He helped her off the couch. “Lets go into your bedroom, and I assure you this won’t take longer than five minutes.”

Melb nodded and followed the doctor down the hallway, glancing back once with wounded eyes at Oliver. When she was out of sight, Oliver let out a forceful sigh and turned to gather himself. He was mumbling and rubbing his feet against the floor.

Ainsley stood, approached him, and patted his shoulder. “Oliver? Are you okay?”

He gestured toward the hallway.

“I know, I know. But she’ll be fine. She’ll see that Dr. Hoover is here to help her, and maybe he can figure out what’s wrong.”

Oliver swiveled on his heel, and to Ainsley his face looked disproportionately terrified. “Are you okay?” she gasped.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered.

“Understand what?”

“Melb’s fear of doctors is the least of my problems right now!” “What’s the matter?”

He grew stiff as he gazed at the dark hallway that Melb and Dr. Hoover had just disappeared into. Then, in barely a whisper, he said, “See that door in the hallway?”

“Sure. Where you keep the towels and the vacuum. Do you need me to get something?”

He shook his head. “I found Bob.” He tore his gaze away from the door and looked at Ainsley. “And Fred.”

“The snake?”

He hushed her with his hands. “It was curled up in there when I went to get Melb a cool washcloth. I shut the door.” Oliver looked like he was having a heart attack. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. “I swear it was all I could do not to scream, but Melb was acting so crazy as it was, I knew I had to stay in control.”

Her fingers found her mouth. “Is it still in there?”

He nodded somberly. “I’ve got to figure out a way to get the snake out without Melb knowing about it, or she’ll really flip. But I can’t get her to go anywhere or do anything. The only two places she’ll go is to the kitchen and then back to the couch.”

Ainsley couldn’t stop looking at the hallway. She could already feel her skin crawling. But by the looks of it, she was the most level-headed person of the two of them, so she tried her best to remain calm.

Oliver, on the other hand, was clawing at his neck and profusely sweating. “But I don’t know if I can take spending the night here knowing that snake is in the closet! It was so horrible, I can’t even describe it. It’s two heads …”

Ainsley felt her knees grow weak. “It’s two heads did what?” she whispered.

“Nothing, really. But it was still horrible.” Oliver shuddered. He was grabbing his chest. “I don’t know if I can take another moment of this kind of drama!”

“Good news!” Dr. Hoover called as his white hair appeared from the shadowy hallway, followed by the rest of him.

“She’s faking it?” Oliver asked.

“Faking it? No, no. It’s quite real.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Dr. Hoover had a strange twinkle in his eye. “Well, Oliver, I haven’t told Melb yet. I thought you’d like to have that honor.”

Oliver looked completely exhausted. “Are you serious? I thought it was always the doctor that broke the bad news.”

“But this is good news. Oliver, you’re going to be a father.”

Ainsley’s jaw dropped, and, at the same time as Dr. Hoover, she noticed Oliver was swaying and looking pale. They each grabbed an arm and led him to the couch.

“Melb’s pregnant?” Oliver said, his voice as high as a little girl’s.

Dr. Hoover gave a hefty nod. “There’s no doubt about it. I did two tests.”

Oliver’s bloodshot eyes stared at the carpet, both hands shaking as they lay in his lap. Ainsley touched his shoulder. “Oliver, are you okay?”

“Give me a minute,” he mumbled.

Dr. Hoover stood and offered Oliver a congratulatory handshake, which he barely managed to return. “I must be off now. I told Melb to rest for a few minutes on the bed. She was right. The tongue depressor dance didn’t go over well. But she should be ready for your exciting news very soon.” Dr. Hoover plopped his hat on his head and walked out the door, humming a nursery rhyme.

Ainsley turned to Oliver, not sure if she should offer comfort or congratulations. And at this point, she wasn’t sure what had brought the terror to his eyes. Was he still thinking about the snake? Or was he processing the idea that he was going to be a parent?

Before she had time to offer any consolation or advice, they heard the flip-flopping of house shoes against the wood floors—Melb was coming toward them from the hallway.

“Well?” she flared. “Where’s the doctor? What’d he say?” She still had a washcloth atop her head.

Oliver popped up from the couch, quite unsteadily. His cheeks were flushed to a bright pink, and he was smiling so tightly Ainsley could actually hear his teeth grinding.

“Darling,” he managed.

Melb eyed him but continued her plodding toward the couch. She sat down and covered herself with an afghan. “Well? What is it?” she snapped. “All he would tell me was that it was my fault, and I should be more careful. If that doctor knew how many antibacterial soaps I go through in a month, he wouldn’t be so snide with his remarks.” She was studying Oliver with each angry word, and suddenly her face turned concerned. “Ollie? What’s wrong?” Tears gathered in her eyes. “Am I dying?”

Oliver swallowed, and with enough gusto to sell a German-made to a Midwesterner, he threw his arms wide and beamed. “Congratulations!” he shouted. “There’s a snake in our closet!”

C
HAPTER
9

I
T WAS A STRANGE THING
to come home after midnight and find his house alive with activity, but Ainsley was busy serving drinks and there were people crowded into his living room. Alone in the kitchen, Wolfe said, “Say that again?”

“Melb’s pregnant.”

“No, after that.”

“Oliver found the snake.”

“After that.”

“In his linen closet.”

“No, after that.”

“And they’re spending the night here until they catch the snake.” “No, there was something after that.”

Ainsley thought for a second. Then she sighed and checked her watch. “Oh. Yeah, forget that. You’re too late. Besides, we have company.”

Wolfe sulked away and joined the crowd in the living room. Oliver was sitting next to Melb, whose ashen complexion did not reveal which piece of news had brought it on. Oliver was stroking her hair, her shoulder, her elbow, visibly unsure whether he was even being helpful. Sheriff Parker, obviously awakened out of a dead sleep judging by the sheet marks that crisscrossed his cheek, was taking notes, but Butch, with his hands on his hips, looked to be the only one excited about the ordeal. He was interviewing Oliver and Melb.

“How long was the snake in your closet?” Butch asked.

Oliver shrugged, looking as if he was not sure his timid wife beside him could handle the answer. “I’m not exactly sure. Maybe one or two hours … or five.”

“Five!” Melb gasped.

“I didn’t want to upset you, but you wouldn’t let me leave the house, and I knew if I made a phone call, you’d complain I wasn’t spending enough time with you. Especially if I tried to be secretive about it. You know how your emotions have been … because of your pregnancy.”

Melb patted a tissue against her cheeks. “I don’t understand how this could’ve happened. I can’t believe it. I could have sworn I went through menopause. And now I have to try to come to grips with the fact that all those mood swings are just part of my”—she could hardly finish her sentence—“personality!”

Butch said, “Okay, back to the snake. It just sat there all evening?”

“That I could tell. I mean, I only peeked in twice. That was enough for me.”

Ainsley arrived in the living room with hot tea. “I’ll take one!” Melb said.

“You can’t have caffeine or certain herbs,” Ainsley said. “I’ll make you a cup of hot water with honey and lemon.” Melb started crying again.

Butch said to his father, “Let’s get over there, see what we can find out.” He looked at Oliver and said, “We’ll get it. Dead or alive.”

“Surprised you wanted to tag along, Wolfe,” Butch said from the front seat of Sheriff Parker’s truck. “You may see blood.”

Wolfe nodded and smiled tolerantly at Butch, who luckily liked to
disappear for months at a time, only to reappear at the holidays with fantastic covert-operation stories. Though supposedly “retired” from the spy business, he hadn’t specified how long he would be hanging around Skary this time. Wolfe was pretty sure only human blood made him pass out, but he was getting a little nervous … not so much about the blood but about the fire in Butch’s crazed eyes.

Sheriff Parker shook his head. “I don’t know what’s scarier. This snake or Melb Stepaphanolopolis birthing a child.”

“Be nice,” Butch said. “Snakes in general are harmless creatures. When they come with two heads, though, that’s a whole different scenario. It’s all about knowing the enemy. And anything with two heads is the enemy.” He glanced back at Wolfe. “You gonna be able to handle this?”

Wolfe rolled his eyes and decided a change of subject was in order. “How are you coming with your lines, Irwin?”

“What lines?” Butch asked.

“Your dad is taking a part in a town play that we’re doing the night before Thanksgiving.”

Butch turned to his dad. “Are you kidding me?”

The sheriff shrugged. “It’s a small role.” He paused, then added, “It’s good for the community.”

“What’s the play about?”

“I’ve read through it twice, and I can’t really tell you, but I do have some great lines,” the sheriff said as he pulled into the Stepaphanolopolis driveway. The mood in the car immediately changed. “Butch, you got the key?”

“Yeah.”

“All right. Let’s go in there and get this nightmare over with.”

As they got out of the car, Butch stopped them both on the sidewalk. “If I yell
Code Orange
, run as fast you can.”

“Why?” Wolfe asked.

“It means we’re in extreme, unpredictable danger.”

“Why not just say
run
?”

Butch sighed with a long-suffering expression and said, “Just be aware of my knife. It’ll fillet bone.”

“You brought your knife?” the sheriff asked. “I thought I’d just use my gun.”

“You haven’t used your gun in years, Dad. Secondly, do you really think that they want a bullet ricocheting through their house? Now come on. Quietly. We have no more time to waste.”

Butch unlocked the door, and Wolfe was about to flip the light on, but Butch grabbed his arm. “I prefer to work in the dark.” He looked toward the hallway and gestured to ask whether that was the way to the linen closet. Wolfe nodded. “All right. Give me an idea about this closet. What are we looking at?”

“Linen,” Wolfe answered.

“How many shelves?”

Wolfe tried to remember. He’d once opened the closet, thinking it was the bathroom. “Five, maybe.”

“Maybe.” Butch shook his head. “Okay, anything else?”

“Melb mentioned that’s where she keeps her vacuum cleaner.”

“Left or right side?”

“I don’t know,” the sheriff answered.

“Is Melb left-or right-handed?”

“Right, I think,” the sheriff said.

“Then the vacuum will probably be on the right side.” Butch drew a deep breath and pulled a large, glistening knife out of its sheath. “Stay here.”

“You like working alone?” Wolfe asked.

“Most animals can sense fear, so you’re better off at a distance.” He moved forward, his knife securely in his hand, raised at just
shoulder level. Wolfe chuckled and glanced at the sheriff, but he seemed oblivious to the absurdity. His hand was perched on his gun. There was no way of knowing whether it held an actual bullet.

Butch disappeared into the hallway shadows. In the silence they heard him turn a doorknob. After that, several more seconds of silence went by, then the sheriff called out, “Butch? What’s going on?”

Suddenly noises interrupted the still night, including grunts and a lot of “hi-YAH’s,” which sounded more like a Canadian neighborly greeting than kung fu, but it was over in a matter of seconds.

Butch emerged from the hallway, gently sliding his knife back into its sheath. His hair was disheveled, and he looked exhausted. “The good news is, the danger is over.”

“Thank goodness,” the sheriff said.

“The bad news is that Melb’s going to need a new vacuum cleaner hose.”

“Where’s the snake?”

Butch shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’m wondering if Oliver mistook the hose for the snake. It certainly fooled me.” “So the snake’s gone?” Wolfe asked.

“If it was ever there. There’s a hole in the baseboard, where it could’ve possibly gotten in or out of the closet. It’s hard to say.”

“Oh, brother,” the sheriff groaned. “Let’s draw straws to see who gets to tell Melb and Oliver.”

Melb looked worse than she did when she thought she had a communicable disease. Ainsley was gently breaking the news to her about all the foods she should avoid and how many medicines could harm the fetus.
Melb was clueless, and this was a lot to take in at one in the morning. Oliver had gone upstairs to take a shower.

“Honey and water,” she sobbed, staring into her cup. “For nine months? No coffee?”

“But don’t you want a healthy baby?” Ainsley asked.

Melb blinked and set her cup down. “I never wanted a baby. I’ve never thought I’d be a good mother. I’m too much to take care of myself. And I’m happy that I’m the only person in Oliver’s life, that I have his undivided attention.” She stared down at her belly, tears brimming. “I’m not ready for this. I don’t know how to change a diaper. I think baby food smells like puke. How am I going to handle this? Especially with no coffee?”

Ainsley slid beside her on the couch and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Melb, you’ll be a great mother. As this baby grows inside of you, you’ll become more and more excited. And when you finally get to hold him or her, you will melt with love.”

Melb folded her arms. “How do you know? You’ve never had a baby. I once held a puppy. Everyone else was oohing and aahing. You know what I was thinking? How many times it was going to pee on the carpet.” She must’ve noticed Ainsley’s mortified expression, because she added, “It’s a hidden practical side I have.”

“You’re just scared,” Ainsley said, returning to her kitchen, where she tried to gather up more unnatural compassion for what she was hardly able to understand. She could appreciate the practical worries, but she just assumed love would trump that. She fixed herself a cup of tea and was hoping the men would be home soon when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s Dad.”

“Hey … “ Ainsley turned away from Melb. “How’d it go?” she whispered.

“Not good. We’re not sure if Oliver mistook a vacuum cleaner hose for a snake, or if there actually was a snake in the closet and it has now escaped … possibly into some other part of their house. What I need you to do is make sure Melb is very calm and composed. I’m going to have to break the news to her, and although I have my tranquilizer gun in the truck, I don’t want to have to use it.”

Ainsley glanced at Melb, who looked ready for a tranquilizer as it was. “I’ll do my best.”

“We’ve got to lock up, and we’re going to take a look around the outside of the house. We’ll be back in about ten minutes.”

Ainsley took in a deep breath as she hung up the phone. She decided against the tea. As she returned to the living room, Melb was mumbling something about dieting. “—which means I’m back on a diet again. I thought you were supposed to eat anything you wanted when you were pregnant.”

Ainsley took a seat across from her, trying to think quickly. “The guys will be back in ten minutes.”

Melb nodded. “I hope they found that snake. Did they say?”

“You know,” Ainsley said, “while we’re waiting, I could show you some relaxation techniques you’ll want to use during the birth.”

Melb’s eyes grew wide. “The birth. I can’t handle a paper cut. How am I going to handle giving birth?” Tears streamed down her face. “I’m not going to be able to do this.”

“Try some big, deep breaths. Go ahead, this will do you some good.”

Melb looked skeptical and complied only halfheartedly.

“Focus on something ahead of you. Think good, happy thoughts. Think about a tropical island somewhere, with warm water and cool breezes.”

“Once you have kids, tropical island vacations are a thing of the past.”

Ainsley rubbed her mouth, holding in the frustrated words that wanted to topple out. “Just give it a try, please.”

Melb rolled her eyes, puffed her cheeks in disapproval, then stared out the back window. “Okay, fine. I’m breathing, breathing, breathing. Seeing palm trees. And sand. Oh, how beautiful is the water.” Her words were nothing more than placating. “Look at that bird. How cute. And those little crabs. And the—” Suddenly, Melb jumped off the couch, gasping for air.

BOOK: Boo Hiss
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