Suddenly she screamed, and leaped into the air. This sounded more like panic than anger. I looked down and realized that the missing Emerald Tree Boa had reappeared, and had slithered over Sandie’s foot on the way to the birdcage.

“Snake!” she shouted. She leaped back, fired a wild shot at the snake, and knocked over one of the birdcages in her flight. Panicked birds fluttered around the ceiling and fled the room. Michael, Dad, Dr. Blake, and I all hit the floor as she continued whirling about and firing wildly.

It could only have been a few shots—she’d already fired several at the finches and the snake—but it seemed to go on forever. When I finally heard the click that meant she was out of ammo, I leaped over, tackled her, and sat on her.

“Is everyone okay” I asked.

I heard the distorted sound of Michael, Dad, and Dr. Blake trying to talk through their gags. I glanced over. Dad and Michael were nodding vigorously. Dr. Blake was scowling, and appeared to be scanning the room for something.

Holding Sandie’s arm in a hammerlock, I dragged her with me over to where the tie rack was and used two of the remaining ties to bind her hands and feet.

Then I raced over and managed to pull the gag out of Dr. Blake’s mouth.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Where are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “But it’ll be a miracle if she didn’t hit any of the birds. Is the boa all right? Untie me so I can check.”

“The boa’s fine,” I said. “I’m going to—”

“Put the gun down!” I turned to see Rose Noire, hair wildly askew, standing in the doorway holding a pitchfork.

“Relax,” I said. “She’s tied up. Are the police on their way?”

She nodded, eyes still darting left and right for enemies.

“Great,” I said. “Start untying everyone, will you? I’m going to put the snake back in the hall bath, before he eats any of the birds. Then I’ll come back and help you.”

“Uppie! Uppie!” came Timmy’s voice from the dumbwaiter.

“Oops,” I said. I draped the snake over my shoulders, the way I’d seen Dr. Blake do it, so I’d have both hands free to haul the ropes. When Timmy’s head appeared in the dumbwaiter doorway, his eyes lit up.

“‘Nake!” he said. “Want ‘nake!”

“This is Dr. Blake’s snake,” I said. “If you behave yourself until we get everyone untied, I’ll find you a snake of your very own.”

Timmy sat down in a display of ostentatious good behavior. He stayed that way for a good ten seconds. Then he popped over to look out of the window.

“‘Leese cars!” he exclaimed.

Thirty-Four

Two hours later, we were all still answering questions from Chief Burke, the DEA, the USF&WS, the state troopers, and even a few stray Clay County sheriff’s deputies who’d followed the state troopers over to our house and hadn’t quite given up hope that some of the excitement might have strayed over onto their turf. But I could tell that the end was in sight. Not that anyone was running out of questions, but I could see that Chief Burke was running out of patience with the various interlopers.