Finding Miranda

CHAPTER 16: THE ARSONIST

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.