Murder by Page One by Olivia Matthews (read aloud txt) 📗

filled my lungs. Marginally more in control, I straightened my back, squared my shoulders, and reached for the door handle with fingers that trembled. My legs were stiff but my knees shook. Stepping forward, I felt like one of the robots from Isaac Asimov’s The Robot Series.

Adrian and Floyd were deep in conversation as they strode toward the door behind me. Their shift was over, and their replacements were on duty. But they hadn’t yet noticed me.

I blocked their passage and raised my hands to stop them. “There’s a snake in my car. On my driver’s seat. I think it’s a cottonmouth.” I spoke in a stage whisper.

Floyd’s cool gray eyes darkened with worry as he scanned me. “Did it bite you?” His concern created a comforting space in the center of my panic.

“No.” A hysterical sob caught in my throat. It was just after five o’clock. How long had the snake been in my car? I continued speaking in a stage whisper. “I don’t like snakes.”

The librarians sprang into action.

“I’ll get the broom from the storage room.” Floyd turned and strode toward the employee offices.

“I’ll grab a trash can.” Adrian went to the circulation desk, then rejoined me in seconds.

My attention dropped to the large shipping box in his left hand and the trash can hanging from his right. He’d removed the garbage bag. “What are we going to do?”

He lifted the container. “We’re gonna sweep the snake into this here bin.”

Oh, no, no, no. No. The thought of getting close to that monstrously large and certainly venomous creature made me lightheaded. I closed my eyes briefly. “I…don’t know if I can do that.”

“Can’t do what?” Floyd had returned in time to hear my confession.

I gestured toward Adrian’s supplies. “Transfer the snake into the trash can.”

“We’ll handle it.” Floyd held the door open for Adrian and me.

It struck me that my rescuers behaved as though they’d done this before. Finding a snake in a car didn’t seem unusual to them. I couldn’t think about that now.

My still-shaky legs carried me across the threshold and back into the parking lot. I pointed out my powder blue compact to the two men. My finger shook as though I was conducting the world’s smallest orchestra. At about a yard from the sedan’s hood, I muted my keyless entry before pressing the button to release the locks. I didn’t want to risk startling the snake with the car alarm’s high-pitched pinging sound. The muted snick was loud enough.

Floyd stilled beside me. “Your car was locked?”

“Yes.” I read confusion in his eyes.

“Then how’d the snake get in?” Adrian sounded as puzzled as Floyd looked.

I spread my arms. “I’ve been asking myself the same question.”

Adrian looked through the side window. “Yep. That’s a cottonmouth.”

I swallowed to dislodge the lump of fear in my throat. I briefly closed my eyes, still seeing the serpent’s orange, black, and brown patterned skin. “Aren’t those poisonous?”

“They sure are.” The young librarian assistant sounded almost gleeful.

I suppressed a shiver. There were four types of poisonous snakes in North America: cottonmouth moccasins, rattlesnakes, copperheads, and coral snakes. How had I been lucky enough to discover one in my car?

Gathering my courage, I nudged the file box aside with my right foot, then opened my driver’s side door. I pulled it wide to give Floyd and Adrian room to maneuver, and to give myself distance from the snake. I watched in fascinated horror as my companions closed in on the enormous, venomous reptile. It was actually sunning on my seat. How was I going to sit there to drive home? My palms were sweating.

Adrian squatted beside the chair, extending the trash can out in front of him. He was more than an arm’s length away, but he still seemed so close. Too close. I held my breath, pressing a palm against my chest to keep my heart from bounding out of my body. Floyd extended the broom into the car. I bit my lower lip to keep from screaming. Floyd used the broom to guide the snake into the trash bin Adrian held with his bare hands. The two men worked together to efficiently and effortlessly contain the snake. The entire operation was over in minutes. As I watched, Adrian put the box lid on the trash can and straightened from his crouched position. I knew one thing with absolute certainty—there was no way I could ever do that.

I secured my car. “Thank you both so very much. What should we do now?” But Adrian was already striding away, carrying the now-contained snake toward a trail that led to the park behind the library. “But…if Adrian releases the snake into the park, couldn’t it make its way back here?”

“It might.” Floyd’s shrug was philosophical. “You should get snake repellant. You can buy it over at the general store. Apply it to your car seat where the snake was and spread it around your car.”

For a brief moment, I reconsidered this whole small-town librarian situation. Then I remembered how much I loved my job, and that I was falling in love with the town and my neighbors. Well, with the possible exception of Delores.

“I don’t understand how the snake could’ve gotten into my car.” I scanned my vehicle, looking for a way the reptile could’ve slithered in.

Especially because of my concern for Phoenix’s safety, before I moved into my house, I took steps to make sure snakes couldn’t get in. I’d watched videos I’d found on the internet to learn how to snake-proof my home. I’d followed each step in detail. I’d inspected the house from the attic to the basement to the attached garage. I’d even checked the creepy, cobweb-infested crawl spaces. I’d checked for openings, gaps, and spaces larger than a quarter of an inch, and had sealed them all—every single one—with spray foam and weather stripping. But it had never entered my mind to snake-proof my car, perhaps because Phoenix was rarely in it.

“Are you sure you locked your