Truth and Consequences by Linda Winfree Page B

you’re likely to find inside your mailbox. And it’ll be alive. You’ve got to be careful.” Tick’s voice brooked no arguments. “Both of you.”
    The storm door swung open, admitting the young deputy who’d accompanied Tick on the call. He eyed the plastic bag Tick held. “I got the prints off the door. Are we dusting the snake for prints, too?”
    At Tick’s long-suffering expression, Kathleen forced down a hysterical giggle. Tick shook his head. “Yeah, Troy Lee, we’re gonna get prints off a damn snake.”
    Flushing, the young man backed out the door. “I’ll put the evidence kit back in the car.”
    “You do that.” Tick waited for him to leave and rested his head against the wall, blowing out a long breath. “I swear, I’ve seen fence posts with more common sense. I think Stanton hired him just to get even with me for being a pain in the ass when I was a rookie agent.”
    Altee shot him a questioning look. “Why are you taking the snake?”
    He grinned and moved toward the door. “I’m going to turn him into a belt. I’m sending the prints over to the Moultrie crime lab, which means y’all will get the results before I do. But I doubt there’ll be any other than the two of you. Remember what I said about being careful.”
    “I don’t think we’ll forget.” Altee closed the door behind him and turned to fix Kathleen with a stern look. “Come on, Kath. We need to talk.”
    * * *
    Jason dropped the office copy of his traffic citations in the wire basket. Glad the long, slow day was over, he wanted nothing more than to go home, have a beer, take a hot shower and fall into bed. Driving circles around Haynes County, answering three calls and writing a handful of speeding tickets didn’t define his idea of a productive existence.
    The sheriff’s office door opened and Jim Ed stepped into the squad room, chuckling. The quality of that small laugh raised the hair on Jason’s arms.
    Jim Ed clapped him on the shoulder and crossed to the coffee station. “Rough day?”
    “Boring day.”
    After filling his mug, Jim Ed leaned against the counter and grinned at Jason over the rim. “I bet our lady friends at the GBI don’t share your sentiments.”
    His breath stopped in his throat. Forcing himself to inhale and exhale, he shrugged. “What do you mean?”
    “We left Kathleen Palmer a little calling card this morning. If she has any sense at all, she’ll back off.”
    Jason dropped his citation book on the desk and went to pour himself a cup of coffee. Anything to keep his hands too busy to wrap around Jim Ed’s throat. “What kind of calling card?”
    “A dead five-foot rattler.” Jim Ed chuckled again, a twisted little-kid-at-Christmas sound. “In her front door.”
    Visions of Kathleen opening a door and a rattler tumbling at her feet assailed him. Jason lifted his cup and scorched coffee assaulted his tongue. “Think it’ll scare her off?”
    “Who cares? If it doesn’t, there are ways.”
    He didn’t even want to think about that statement. He sipped his coffee, pretending to mull over his cousin’s words. “You know, there might be another way to get her to back off.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Stacy does what you tell her to, right?”
    “She better.”
    “What if I could convince Kathleen Palmer to do what I told her to?”
    Lasciviousness spread across Jim Ed’s face. “Boy, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
    “You got to admit, she looks like a sweet piece.” He had to force the words out, thanking Mrs. Louella Hatcher for three years of drama instruction. “Wouldn’t be a hardship to get close to her and convince her to do the right thing.”
    Not to mention getting close to her would allow him to keep an eye on her.
    Jim Ed’s lips twisted, a thoughtful frown between his eyebrows. “You think she’d look twice at you?”
    Anger fired to life in his gut, and he shoved down the impulse to choke his cousin. Instead, he shrugged again. “Won’t know unless I