How to Sex Your Snake

Chapter 10, Part One

Twenty minutes later, I'd dropped Mom at her car and was pulling into a spot at the historic Strand hotel just off the I-19. A marque on the sign overhead announced the Southern Arizona Reptile Show Sat & Sun, 8 - 5 Dewey Nash Sunday at 3 No Overnight Lineups.

The parking lot was pretty empty but that didn't mean anything. The hardcore collectors would have already come and gone, snatching up anything that was rare or unusual. The rest of the day would be filled with families trying to get their kids away from the TV for a few hours. The real crowds wouldn't materialize till a couple of hours before Dewey's talk on Sunday. A security guard wandering nearby slowed down to eye my truck. He was probably there to make sure there were no early stakeouts. Knowing the Dewzers, they'd figure out a way around him.

I dug a hat out of the mess on the passenger floor, tucked my hair up inside and pulled the bill down to my eyes. If Dewey's fans were assembling early, I didn't want to be recognized.

There was no sign of Sarah Sunshine in the lobby but knowing her, she was lurking around somewhere. I needed to find her, act like everything was normal and get back to the sheriff's station so I could check on Dewey. A sign by the door welcomed the reptile show in the Mesquite room. That's where she probably was. I wandered down a couple of corridors till I found the place and poked my nose inside.

About a hundred tables were laid out in long rows and vendors were hawking everything you never knew you needed for creepy crawlies that climbed, burrowed, slithered or glided through the air, including the crawlies themselves. For the first time since all this had started, I was actually happy that Dewey was locked up in a jail cell. If he'd been here, we'd have had to stop at each and every table so he could impart some piece of reptilic wisdom on me.

A twenty-something girl selling tickets from a table by the door looked up from her cell phone. "You need a ticket to go in." She sounded almost apologetic.

"I just need to look for someone I'm meeting," I said. I braced a hand on the door frame, leaned into the room and craned my neck to peek around a table selling wax worms. A brightly-colored sign billed theirs as the tastiest around and I was almost hungry enough to see if that was true. I felt a tug on my sleeve.

"Admission is only six-fifty," Ticket Girl said, "and a portion of the proceeds helps with educational programs for the public. But you should really get a two-day ticket," she said. Then she sighed. "Dewey Nash will be here tomorrow." Her last words oozed the same way mine did when I talked about pistachio baklava and Vin Diesel movies.

Just for fun, I scrunched up my face. "Who?"

The girl held her cell phone out in my direction. Her screen saver was a photo of Dewey. He was signing an adoring Dewzer's t-shirt with a big grin on his face. And there I was, a few steps away, giving the stink eye to a couple of fans who had gotten a bit too close. It had a publicity shot feel to it but it could have been taken by someone at a convention. I lifted Ticket Girl's hand a bit higher for a better view. My hair looked really good. For a change. I was tempted to ask for a copy.

"Isn't he adorable?"

My eyes drifted from my soft perfect curls to Dewey's smiling face. I nodded. He was really in his element when he was surrounded by his fans. I didn't want to think about how he probably looked right at this moment. Had Warren put him in one of those orange prison jumpsuits? Did the Horseshoe Bend Sheriff's department use orange prison jumpsuits? Part of me felt like I needed to call Mom and find out but most of me really didn't want to know. Best to file thoughts of Dewey away with those graphic visions of dead Morgan.

I handed back the phone. "Never heard of him." Ticket Girl's jaw dropped and I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. "Is there a snack bar in there?" I asked.

She could only nod.

I tossed a ten on the table and left the poor girl with her mouth dangling open. I sidestepped a family with about a dozen children under ten, wove through the vendor's tables, and headed for the back.

Despite the fact that it wasn't even nine in the morning, the snack bar menu was limited to hot dogs, hamburgers and nachos. I chose a dog with mustard and a bottle of spring water. While I waited for them to put my order together, I leaned against the counter and studied the room. No sign of Sarah Sunshine. And only a handful of window shoppers were wandering the aisles. Most of the vendors looked bored. At the far end, a few were hovering just outside of a door they'd propped open, smoking cigarettes. How had H.A.H. managed to talk this many people into setting up tables? Then I noticed three ladies north of sixty, taking selfies with a giant poster of Dewey. Of course he'd be the draw. The vendors knew that tomorrow a horde of die hard fans would swarm the place and in their fevered frenzy, they'd buy up everything in sight. A slow Saturday was worth the wait.

As I continued to watch the ladies, one of them raised her eyes from the phone they were huddled around and looked directly at me. Uh oh. Had I just been spotted? I'd like to think that no one would look at this outfit and think, dang that's probably June Nash in those man jeans and ball cap. The lady continued to stare and I felt a knot start to form in the pit of my stomach. While I had no problem hissing at most of the Dewzers that intruded into my personal space scratching around for a piece of my baby brother, I didn't think I could hiss at a woman my nana's age. Maybe the lady wasn't really looking at me. Maybe she just had a hankering for a dog and a coke. I was standing in front of the snack bar and despite the fact that the hot dogs were the cheapo ones and probably just boiled to this side of warm, they smelled delicious.

After what felt like an eternity, the old lady dropped her eyes and I let out a breath. She was just looking at the snack bar menu. My number was called and I stepped over to the pickup window to grab my food. When I turned around, Nana Dewzer was looking at me again. Then she bumped a shoulder against one of her friends and tilted her head in my direction. This went on till all three of them were staring at me while trying to make it look like they weren't staring at me. Blast. I tucked the dog and water into my purse and decided it was a good time to test drive possible escape routes.