Page 82 of Wayward

“I’m fine, Deputy Chief Malloy. I appreciate your concern.”

He squinted at me. “Knock it off.”

I couldn’t help smiling.

“Answer the question,” he said, his fingers in the hair at my nape, treating me, whether he realized it or not, like I belonged to him.

“I’m fine.”

“Well, Sage Tucker called in, and he was quite worried.”

I looked over at Sage and his buddy, who had another, smaller python that they were carefully putting into a bag.

“That’s them, Deputy Chief,” Sage called over, pointing at the Farleys. “They were screaming at Maks for no reason.”

Gale took a breath and cleared his throat. “Is that a python?”

“Actually, this one’s an anaconda,” Sage replied happily. “Dude, we’re so pumped! There’s a sanctuary in Ontario that’s the perfect place for this guy!”

“Oh, that’s where those went,” Ada said with a sigh. “Someone dropped them here, and I had them in a box by the radiator to keep them warm, but they all got out.” She smiled at me. “They were much smaller back then, you understand.”

Of course they were.

“You know, I always wondered why I didn’t have mice or rats in the house,” she said turning to me. “That’s probably why, don’t you think? The snakes.”

God. “Probably. Yes. And we need to put in a gate out front,” I told Ada. “If people are going to dump things, I want to see what kind of animal it is.”

“Whatever you think, dear.”

Gale cleared his throat. “I told you there were snakes.”

“Yeah, but I thought you meant like king snakes or even rattlesnakes or something of that size. Those are not what I was expecting.”

“I was kidding,” he snapped, bending over and taking deep breaths.

“There was a caiman in the basement.”

“I don’t know what that is, but I can’t imagine it’s good.”

“Like a smaller alligator.”

“They’re actually more closely related to crocodiles,” Sage’s buddy said as he walked by, carrying one of the bags. “I’m Barnaby Reilly,” he said, offering me his hand. “Thank you again for calling us. This has been the most amazing day, Mr. Gorev.”

“I’m so glad. And call me Maks.”

“Awesome.” He took a step closer with the squirming bag. “You know, my band is playing at the Well on Friday. Maybe you—”

“He’s busy,” Gale said quickly, straightening up. Then noticing that the bag was still twitching, he bent over again.

“Okay, cool,” Barnaby said, still smiling at me, before turning to Gale. “You know, it’s not gonna bite you even if it gets outta the bag.”

“But it won’t get out of the bag, right?” I asked.

“No worries, Maks. I wouldn’t let it hurt you.”

“Thank you.”

“Could you take the snake away already?” Gale was clearly annoyed.