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She made it sound so clear and simple, yet here I was in a fogbank. “Why does he stay there?”
“Because Dad’s working on the new bridge they’re building by Uncle Peter’s house.”
I didn’t remember seeing any new bridge going in around town. “Where does your Uncle Peter live?”
“In Spearfish.”
I took another step back, my chest winded like I’d been walloped in the bread basket with a frying pan.
Spearfish—where the girl was almost abducted last night. What a freaking coincidence. I needed to talk to Natalie.
“It’s gone, Mom,” Addy returned to her spot on the porch.
“Thank you.”
She sighed. “Now what are we going to dissect tomorrow?”
Whatever happened to doll houses and playing dress-up? “How about you don’t dissect anything?”
“That’s boring.”
“I thought Aunt Zoe was taking you hiking out by Custer Peak.”
“Yeah, in the morning. We were going to cut open the snake in the afternoon.”
“But the snake wasn’t dead.” While reptiles weren’t my idea of cuddly calendar candidates, the idea of Addy slaughtering an animal just to examine its guts inspired a whole rash of parental-alert goosebumps. If memory served me right, Jeffrey Dahmer started off his serial killer career with harmless pets.
“Kelly knows how to kill snakes.” Addy had missed my point.
Kelly’s smile beamed. “My dad showed me. You just hold ‘em down with your heel and chop off their heads.”
“Okay.” I was beginning to think Kelly was a few French fries short of a Happy Meal. Addy really needed to make more friends. “How about instead of playing Operation with a poor snake, we go out to Pactola Lake tomorrow after lunch.”
“Really?” Addy hopped to her feet, her smile wide, the snake apparently forgotten. “Will you come swimming with us?”
I’d sooner share a sleeping bag with Addy’s snake than don a bathing suit in public, but how could I say ‘no’ to the excitement in her eyes. “Sure.”
“Mom didn’t pack my swimsuit,” Kelly said.
“You can borrow one of mine.” Addy grabbed her hand. “Let’s go pick one out for you.”
“Wash your hands, Adelynn,” I yelled at the girls’ backs as they ran inside the front door and clomped up the stairs. I followed them, minus the clomps, and detoured into the kitchen, where I found Aunt Zoe standing at the sink, staring out the window into the backyard.
I joined her and looked out at where my son’s butt stuck up in the air. He looked like a turtle digging a nest in the sand as he widened the hole where he’d found the horse remains. “I thought he was gluing teeth in the skull.”
“He was.” Aunt Zoe pointed at where the skull sat on the picnic table. “But he’s four short and determined to find them.”
“Then what?”
“I guess the spine comes next.”
“He’ll tear up your whole yard before he’s through.”
She smiled. “I know.”
“You want me to stop him?”
“No way. Who knows what else he’ll find? I’m rather enjoying seeing what I’ve been living over all these years.”
