“What?”
“My mother-in-law put it there.”
Rachel stopped breathing.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Downstairs.”
“Call 911.”
“I will.”
“But first, I need something.”
“What?”
“I need you to document that I’m telling you this now.”
“Nora.”
“Please.”
Her voice changed.
Professional.
“Okay.”
She started recording a formal timestamped memo.
I told her everything.
The insurance policy.
The bedroom.
The snake.
Kristina’s words.
Heather Perkinson.
The child.
Rachel interrupted only once.
“Did she say Edgar knows?”
“No.”
“Did she imply it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
When I finished, Rachel said.
“Now call 911.”
I did.
But I did not tell the dispatcher I believed my mother-in-law had planted the snake.
Not immediately.
I said.
“There is a rattlesnake inside my bedroom.”
The dispatcher instructed me to stay away.
Animal control and police were dispatched.
I heard Kristina moving upstairs.
That terrified me.
I unlocked the office.
She was halfway up the staircase.
“Where are you going?”
She stopped.
“Bathroom.”
“There’s one downstairs.”
“I prefer mine.”
I smiled.
“I called animal control.”
Her face went white.
“What?”
“There’s a rattlesnake in our bedroom.”
Silence.
Then she laughed.
A terrible performance.
“A rattlesnake?”
“Yes.”
“How would that happen?”
“I have no idea.”
Her eyes searched my face.
She was trying to decide what I knew.
Then she said.
“Maybe it came through the patio.”
“The upstairs patio door was locked.”
“Oh.”
Her breathing changed.
I continued.
“Strange.”
“Yes.”
“Very.”
She walked back down.
Then sat in the living room.
We waited.
Ten minutes later, a police cruiser arrived.
Then a snake removal specialist.
His name was Caleb Ortiz.
I led him upstairs.
Kristina followed too closely.
A police officer stopped her.
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