Pietro bustled about the Krausse kitchen making dinner. He was stirring the tomato sauce for his chicken cacciatore when Shepard and Dave entered the room. Dave smelled like expensive shower gel and moisturizing hair conditioner. Pietro got a whiff of the dog, shook his head and sighed.
"Before you sit down," Pietro told Shepard, "your message light is blinking."
"I really hope it's not my mother," Shep said, moving to the counter where the machine squatted. "I had enough personal time with mom yesterday to last me a long time."
Shep punched the playback button. The message was from Miranda. He smiled when he heard her voice. Pietro glanced at Shep, then glanced again and chuckled.
"Hi, Shepard, this is Miranda," the voice announced (unnecessarily). "I'm going to do some shopping in town after work tonight, and I may not get home before you leave for work. I wanted to thank you for the, uh, impressive gift. The taxidermist delivered it today. What a surprise. Ahm, I can't really get it in my car? Don't laugh. So maybe you can help me work out a way to bring it home—at a time that's convenient for you, of course.
"So, ahm, thank you. That's my excuse for calling. But that's not really what I called about. Shep, that snake wasn't from the wild, it had been fed by someone. It was a captive animal, or a pet. I think somebody put it in the road that morning. They had to be nearby to time it just right, then they hid and let you run right onto it. I'm not usually an alarmist, but ... Shepard, be very careful. I think someone tried to kill you.
"Well, let me go, I'm using up your whole tape or memory card or whatever. See you soon. 'Bye."
Pietro turned from his stove and opened his mouth to say something, but Shepard forestalled him with a raised finger. "Don't you dare say 'I told you so.'"
"The only thing I gonna say is ... is, uh ... "
"How about 'dinner's ready'?"
"Yeah, thatsa what I gonna say. Dinner she'sa ready. Everybody sit."
Shep sat down at the table. Dave sat attentively beside his feeding mat on the floor.
....
It was dark in the deep shade of Minokee's overhanging oaks long before it was dark in wide-open parts of the county. Central Florida's rolling treeless pasturelands held a twilight until after nine, in the summer, but in Minokee on this Monday evening, it was plenty dark by eight.
On Orchid Street, Pietro and Shepard were finishing the dishes and preparing to load up for the long drive into Live Oak for their night shift. Dave was dozing on the cool tile floor of the kitchen.
On Magnolia Street, Miranda was hefting grocery bags out of her car. She entered through the kitchen door and set the bags on the counter near the refrigerator.
That's when he hit her.
Miranda crashed to the terrazzo floor. Sledgehammers of pain bashed her knees and elbows when they smashed into the floor. Her face slapped the cold terrazzo; lightning flashed behind her eyelids. Her hipbone scraped across the floor as she tried to roll aside. He snatched her up by the arm, nearly dislocating her shoulder. She yelped in pain.
"Quiet!" he snarled. "Get in there!" He virtually tossed her across the kitchen. She reeled into the living room and fell half on the floor, half on the sofa.
On Orchid Street, Dave jerked to a stand and WHOOFED in his outdoor voice.
Shep and Pietro turned to see what this unusual behavior meant. "Whatever it is, it's not good," Shep said.
Dave leaped to the kitchen door and scratched frantically, whining and barking his alarm.
Pietro threw open the door and stepped back to avoid being trampled. He leaned out and watched the dog speed away.
"He'sa go through the hedge!" Pietro yelled.
"Follow him!" Shep shouted.
Pietro raced out the door in Dave's wake. Shepard followed.
....
On Magnolia Street, Miranda struggled to focus her blurred vision, but the man was only a blacker shape in the darkness. Then suddenly he was silhouetted against flames. Miranda's kitchen was burning.
Abruptly a huge, wolf-like form burst through the half-open back door and leaped upon the man shape.
When Shep reached the hedge, Pietro met him, returning as fast as he'd left. "Fire!" Pietro shouted. "I'll get the extinguisher!" He sped on toward Shep's house.
"Miranda!" cried Shepard. He ran in the direction of her house.
Something slammed into his neck, just beneath his jawline; his feet flew forward without him.
He hit the ground flat on his back.
"Damned clothesline," he muttered through gritted teeth.
Shepard was working his way to a standing position, hoping nothing important was broken, when Pietro passed him, panting heavily, feet pounding the ground. Shep knew Pietro had the fire extinguisher.
In the flaming kitchen, the wolf shape and the man shape plummeted to the floor and rolled. The man grappled desperately, trying to keep deadly fangs from ripping his throat. The animal was heavy and strong and highly motivated. Bloodcurdling snarls vied with the fire's roar in Miranda's ears.
Miranda dragged her aching limbs from the sofa and crawled toward the hall closet. The shotgun. If she could only reach the shotgun.
Pietro barreled into the kitchen and spewed fire-suppressing foam from the extinguisher toward a wall of flame.
Miranda inched toward the closet. She hurt all over and could barely see. The hallway seemed no closer than when she had begun her agonizing crawl.
On the living room floor, the man shape forced a black-clad forearm into Dave's attacking jaws long enough for the man to reach into a pocket with the other arm.
Shep burst past the fiery kitchen, heard the struggle on the floor, and shouted, "Dave! Leave it! Dave! Back off!"
Dave backed off the man just as the man swiped at Dave's belly with the knife he had pulled from his pocket. Dave barked and snarled and bared his fangs at the man.
Seeing himself outnumbered by Shep, Pietro, and an extremely dangerous Dave, the man scrambled to his feet and fled out the front door. Dave, barking, almost followed.
"Dave! Stay!" commanded Shepard. "Miranda! Miranda! Are you here?! Miranda!"
"I'm here," a weak voice mewed in the darkness.
"Fire's out!" Pietro shouted from the kitchen. "Checking for hot spots now."
Shepard took a step toward Miranda's voice. "Where are you, Miranda?" he called.
"Closet," she exhaled. He found her in two seconds.
"Are you hurt?" he said, squatting on the floor where she sat propped against the open hall closet door.
"Just bruises," she whispered.
"Poor little Bean," he said, and lifted her into his arms as easily as he would a small child. He stood a moment, then called, "Dave!"
Dave came immediately to his side, whined once, and licked Miranda's ankles where they hung down from Shep's embrace.
"Couch, please, Dave," said Shepard, and Dave led him to the couch, fur brushing against Shepard's leg all the way.
Shepard gently laid Miranda on the sofa and sat beside her. "Shotgun," she murmured.
"What about it, baby?" he whispered, taking her small hand and enfolding it between both of his.
She looked at him in great puzzlement. "It's gone," she said.
Pietro flicked on a table lamp at one end of the sofa. "I thinka the wiring she is safe in this room," he said. "Only thing burned isa da kitchen cabinets near da sink."
"Thanks," said Shep.
"I'ma gonna call the law," said Pietro. "We lucky tonight. Dave, he save da day dis time, but somebody coulda been dead. You listenin' to me, Shepard Krausse?"
"After you call the county sheriff," Shep said, "go across the street and ask Martha to come—"
"Martha's done come," her unmistakable voice resonated from the open front door. "Bernice is here, too. Wyneen's done called the sheriff, and Charlotte's talking to the volunteer fire department about sending someone over to check ever-thing out, be sure nothin's smolderin' nowheres."
"Thanks, Martha," said Shep.
"How's our girly?" Martha asked.
Shep stood, and Martha took his seat on the couch.
Shep held Miranda's hand a moment longer before placing it gently on her stomach. "She says just bruises. Can you stay awhile? Until the sheriff comes and goes, at least?"
"Now, Shepard Krausse, you know me and Bernice ain't leavin' this chile tonight. We'll take care of her right here until the law comes, and after they go I'm takin' little missy home with me tonight. She ain't stayin' in this house alone agin 'til she's good and ready."
Bernice had come to stand at the end of the sofa. She nodded her agreement.
"He cain't see ya, Bernice," groused Martha.
"Don't worry 'bout nothin', Shep. We got this 'un," Bernice said. "I'll be back in a minute with some ice for those bruises."
"Appreciate it," Shep said as Bernice went out the front door almost as fast as the arsonist had done.
"Thank you," breathed Miranda. Gallons of adrenaline had flooded her body and were now evaporating. Her eyes just would not stay open. She had so much to say to Shepard, and she wanted to tell everyone how much she loved them and was grateful for their help. So much to do ... huge mess ... groceries... probably ruined... picked me up ...gee, I guess those muscles aren't just for show ... is this what shock feels like?
"Go to sleep, Castor Bean," whispered Shepard. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. He removed her glasses and handed them to Martha. "Pietro and I have to go to work. Tell the deputy we'll stop by and make a statement before we leave Live Oak in the morning."