Page 19 of Hiss and Make Up
“We actually need a favor.”
“We?” Dale leaned to see who was behind her.
Marc stood with his back pressed against the door, still holding the handle, ready to bolt at any moment. The hesitation and awe on his face told the rest of the story. He stared wide-eyed at the wall-to-wall shelves, cabinets, and drawers filled with samples. His attention landed on the tanks with live specimens, and that hesitation and awe transformed into outright fear. She had dragged him right into his worst nightmare.
“Marc, this is Dale. He’s the curator here and a nationally published naturalist.” She grinned her best brown-nosed grin at Dale, as she grabbed Marc’s hand and guided him to stand beside her. “This is Marc. He’s the guy that emailed about the snake yesterday. We actually grew up together.”
She paused, realizing she hadn’t released his hand. It was warm and comforting, and it didn’t slip her attention that Marc hadn’t let go either.
“We have a bit of a problem,” she continued.
“Oh?” Dale scratched his beard. “What kind of problem, and how can I help?”
Sierra held up her offering. “The kind you bring your boss in a pillowcase.”
* * *
Marc rested on a wooden stool while Dale pulled an empty glass tank from a cabinet. Once Sierra and Dale began to ease thethinginto the tank, Marc looked away. But it didn’t help much.
This was by far the creepiest room Marc had ever seen. Everywhere he looked, he saw bones, pieces of bones, creatures pinned to display boards, dead things in jars, and living things in more glass cases.
He couldn’t believe he was still in the room. He wouldn’t have walked in at all if Sierra hadn’t fed him that line about the cranky nesting copperheads. She was probably pulling his leg, but he couldn't shake the image of those things stalking him at the edges of the woods.
If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t need much of an excuse. She’d been so far away up there. That single flight of stairs might as well have put her a whole galaxy away from him. He couldn’t think about anything except being next to her again. Close enough to smell the woods on her. To feel the warmth of her radiating beside him. To touch her.
But once he walked through the door and into his worst nightmare, any desire he’d had vanished.
Until she grabbed his hand and pulled him closer.
She’d dragged him into her orbit, where it was so warm and cozy there that he never wanted to leave. His hand still tingled from her touch.
“So what do you think?” Sierra asked Dale as they both peered at the glass.
Marc gathered his courage and peeked at them. He could see the snake, but the view was blocked by Sierra bending over in front of it. He shouldn’t be staring at Sierra’s backside, but it made a nice distraction from the rest of the room. Or, at least, that’s the excuse he was going with.
Dale tilted his head one way then the other, while the thing slithered up and down the front of the glass. After retreating to a corner behind the desk, Dale reappeared with a small paperback in his hands. A field guide.
“Let’s see.” He flipped through pages while peeking up at the creature every once in a while. “Ah, here we go!”
He handed the book to Sierra. She squinted, followed the snake with her eyes, then shrugged.
“Maybe.”
“Look right there.” Dale pointed at a particular picture.
“Oh, yeah, I see it now.”
“See what?” Marc asked, his curiosity getting the best of him despite his fear.
Sierra pointed at the tank. “These red crescent markings on the underbelly. It’s a northern water snake. Perfectly harmless. But not native to this area.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” said Dale.
“Then how the hell did it end up at my sister’s house?”
“Not justather house,” Sierra said. “Inside something it couldn’t have gotten in on its own.”
