Skinny Dip

Twenty-two

Karl Rolvaag said, "You look lovely this morning, Nellie."

"Coming from a degenerate like you, that makes me want to hang myself. You heard about poor Pinchot?"

"I did," the detective said. "They find him yet?"

Mrs. Shulman was bobbing from side to side, trying to see past him into the apartment.

"Poor Pinchot isn't here, Nellie."

"Then you don't mind if I look around?"

"Actually, I do." Rolvaag didn't want her to notice that the snake tank was empty.

She snarled, "I wouldn't put it past you, kidnapping some poor little puppy for your own depraved pleasures. You probably made a video of it. You probably put it out on the Internet!"

Daffy old bat, thought Rolvaag.

"I did not feed Bert Miller's dog to my snakes," he said, almost adding: But accidents happen.

Mrs. Shulman said, "Well, you certainly enjoy hearing those helpless little mice shrieking in agony. Just imagine how much fun a Pomeranian would be!"

"That's a totally irresponsible accusation." The detective choked down a sneeze. Nellie Shulman had drenched herself in a perfume that stunk like rotting gardenias.

"Then why can't I come in? It's Sunday morning, after all."

"Because you called me a degenerate," Rolvaag said.

"Well, you are. Anyone with a thing for snakes is a sick, sick bas-

tard." She tried to sneak past but he lowered a shoulder and blocked her. "The Millers are devastated!" she declared.

Rolvaag already felt terrible. He had searched the grounds of Saw-grass Grove for three hours, but the only snake he'd found was an ornery black racer that bit him on the thumb of his left hand.

"I saw you prowling around outside yesterday," Mrs. Shulman said, "hunting for more tasty little dogs."

"Nellie, have you been mixing your medications again?"

She poked him in the belt buckle. "Just because you're a cop, you think you can get away with anything. Well, you're wrong, mister. We're going to evict your heathen butt just like we evicted Neville- and he was a deacon in his church!"

Gordon Neville, a retired highway engineer, had been forced to leave Sawgrass Grove after a bawdy after-hours shuffleboard match with two women he'd met during outpatient physical therapy at Imperial Point.

"We nailed him, and we'll nail you, too," vowed Mrs. Shulman.

Rolvaag closed the door firmly in her face. He was halfway to the bedroom when he heard a rustle behind him. He hoped it was one of the missing pythons, but it turned out to be Nellie, sliding another flyer into his apartment. The detective picked it up and morosely looked at the photograph.