Murder by Serpents (Five Star First Edition Mystery) by Barbara Graham Read Free Book Online Page B

and so he did his best to ignore Quentin’s raving. “I may have some bad news for you.”

    At that, Quentin jerked to face Tony and teetered on a moldy pizza box, almost losing his balance. “News?” Quentin appeared to be having trouble processing the word. “What do you mean?”

    Tony saw no way around the blunt approach. “Have you got a relative by the name of John Mize?”

    “Sure do.” His smile exposed all of his remaining teeth and gums, Stained brown, they were embedded with smokeless tobacco. “Got me a cousin John.” For some reason he found that vastly entertaining and started to laugh, spraying brown droplets from his mouth. “He’s been stayin’ with me, but he ain’t here right now. What do you want with him?”

    Realizing that he was barely out of spit range, Tony took another step backwards. “What does he drive?”

    “He’s got one of those itty bitty station wagons, you know what I mean?” His gesture indicated something the size of a shoebox. “I think it’s kind of a sissy lookin’ thing but he says it’s better for the snakes than a truck.”

    “Snakes?” Sheila managed to look horrified. She even managed to put a bit of a squeal in her voice. “He has snakes? What kind of snakes?”

    Quentin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back as if the venomous creatures didn’t faze him, but he couldn’t disguise the hint of fear in his eyes or the quaver in his voice. “Rattlers mostly. He uses them in his church services. That man sure does love his snakes and they love him.” Quentin slapped at some invisible insects.

    “Maybe not.” Tony mumbled to himself as he remembered the sight in the car, “Are you saying that he’s a preacher? A snake handler?” Tony had heard only vague rumors that a small group had started up church meetings in the area. It had been a long time since the last congregation of snake handlers had been in Park County. For the most part, the county citizens were conservative and considered the snake handlers to be a little too far off the beaten track.
     
    “Yep, he’s the preacher all right.” Quentin looked surprised that his family had produced one.

    “He didn’t grow up around here,” Sheila said with total assurance. “How close a cousin is he?”

    “Dunno. He’s kin to my mama or something like that.” Quentin shot a quick glance in Sheila’s direction but was careful to keep his eyes away from her chest. Cautious, he moved back another foot, putting him well out of range of her feet. “He come here from Atlanta and asked for a place to stay and I give it to him.” He scratched his neck and left little trails of skin showing through the ground-in dirt. “That’s what family does. What’s it to you?”

    “When did you see him last?” Tony wasn’t sure that Quentin knew the current year and month.

    “Yesterday evenin’. He was loading the snakes in his car, getting ready for his church time.” Quentin pointed to the porch. “I was sittin’ right there when he left.”

    “What time was that?”

    “Dunno.”

    “When does he usually get back?”

    “All hours.” Quentin licked his dry lips. “He didn’t come home last night, but that happens a lot.”

    “Why’s that?” said Sheila.

    “Sometimes that little car can’t make it up here and sometimes, although he don’t name any names, I think he gets a better offer.” Quentin smirked and punched Tony’s shoulder. “If you know what I mean.”

    Tony stared into Quentin’s red-rimmed eyes and couldn’t help but wonder if everything that Quentin saw was tinted that shade. “Did he call?”

    Quentin shook his head.

    “Any idea about who the better offer might be?” At Quentin’s second shake of his head, Tony inhaled slowly and released the breath. “There’s no easy way to say this but I think he’s dead. The body is with the coroner now but we have his wallet and he was found in a little station wagon. You may have to come in and