| he’s ready to go to the grand jury. Our investigation is basically done. Looks like an open-and-shut case. Problem is, we can’t seem to find Mack. That’s one reason I’m here. I don’t suppose you have any ideas where he might be.” “That’s your job, isn’t it?” “It is, of course. And we’re looking, though we haven’t sent in the bloodhounds yet. Given his penchant for disappearing, the U.S. Attorney would like to have him in our sights before there is an indictment.” “That’s smart. But no, I don’t know of anyone who has actually seen Mack since he supposedly resurfaced. It’s safe to assume he’s living somewhere else. His mother still lives in Greenwood, right?” “Yes, and we’re keeping an eye there. Have funeral arrangements been completed?” “Yes, Saturday at two p. m.” “Don’t suppose Mack would make an appearance, would he?” Walter laughed and said, “I assure you, Mr. Lenzini, that the last place you’ll find Mack Stafford is the First Baptist Church this Saturday.” “I suppose you’re right. It’ll be okay if we stop by, take a seat in the balcony?” “Sinners are always welcome. It’s open to the public.” 32) Sunday morning, the day after Lisa’s funeral, Lucien Wilbanks entered Jake’s suite of offices through the rear door. He used the same key he had been using for decades. It was Jake’s office, but then it wasn’t. The law firm of Wilbanks & Wilbanks had been founded there in the 1940s by Lucien’s grandfather. Lucien had |
griping about the temperature. As she was preparing to pull back the covers, Bolton yanked them and screamed at the monstrous black, spotted snake lying on their beautiful white linen sheets. Tillie was so stricken that her vocal cords froze in terror and she could not utter a sound. She recoiled and fainted as she fell back and landed hard against a wall. For a moment no one moved. Bolton kept one eye on the snake and glanced at his wife, who appeared to be unconscious. The snake raised his head slightly and looked down at Tillie, then turned to check on Bolton. Suddenly, he’d had enough and quickly weaved his way off the bed and onto the floor. When Bolton gave chase, the snake picked up speed and slid faster over the pine flooring. It was imperative to get the damned thing back in its crate, and out of desperation Bolton grabbed its tail, which caused the snake to immediately coil and strike. Bolton yelled as the tiny, razor-like teeth sunk into his left hand. Of course the snake was nonpoisonous—Bolton wasn’t that stupid—but he could still bite and it hurt like hell. Bolton backed away holding his hand and noticing blood. He went to the kitchen, each step careful now that the snake was on the loose, and put some ice in a bowl for his hand. He sat at the table and tried to collect himself. His breathing was labored and he was still sweating |
