All in a Day's Work, Page 2

sometime around midnight. I was already feeling more than a little spooked, when that monster, Everett Bekker jumped out of the shadows and yelled at me. Now that was pee-in-your-pants-worthy. No one could have blamed me, but I actually didn't that time."

  "Didn't what?" Aunt Essie says.

  "Pee in my pants."

  "So what happened?" LaMercy said.

  "She got him in the end. He's dead now. Good riddance, I say." Aunt Essie sniffs.

  "Well, it wasn't actually me who got him."

  "Yeah, but you followed him and found him."

  We hear a loud fart from down the hallway and we all grin. "That's Gasser hard at work," I say.

  The phone rings and LaMercy answers it. She listens, pulls her mouth down and cocks an eyebrow while punching the HOLD button.

  "It's Jimmie-Ray," she says. "He wants to speak to you."

  "I don't want to speak to that asshole. He's just trying to find out if Gasser's found anything yet. Tell him I'm not here."

  The phone beeps to remind us there's a call on hold.

  LaMercy picks up and taps the HOLD button again. "Jimmie-Ray, I'm so sorry. Twila just stepped out of office. I'll get her to call you."

  I can hear him raising his voice on the other end of the conversation, but I can't make out the words. I'm not really making much of an effort.

  "I'm sorry, but I can't. I told you—"

  LaMercy stares at the handset. "He hung up." She carefully replaces it.

  "Good riddance," I say.

  The phone rings again.

  LaMercy answers. "Yeah, she's here." She hands it to me.

  It's my cousin, Ena. "You'll never guess what's going on at the school," she says. "There's a gator in the kids' playground."

  "I thought school was out for summer."

  "They're holding summer camp there. Joel's just called me and told me," Ena says.

  "So did they call Billy-Bob?" (He's our town deputy.)

  "They can't get him. He's out on a case and the new guy's with him."

  "Okay. I'll go over there and see what I can do." I head for my office and pick up my keys, Scratch at my heels.

  I peel out in the truck.

  A warm wind blows leaves across the pavement in front of me as I park under a big old oak tree outside the school. Sure enough, I can see a good-sized gator basking in the sun on the grass beside the swings. The kids are all standing in a huddle on the covered porch and the teachers are trying to herd them.

  I sigh, and start pulling stuff out of the truck box. "You have to stay here," I tell Scratch. I leave the windows half open for him.

  Armed with a rope and some duct tape, I head for the nearest teacher. "Keep the kids away."

  "What are you gonna do?" she says in a nervous high-pitched voice.

  "Get rid of the problem for you."

  "But— You can't do that, Twila. He'll hurt you."

  I roll my eyes. "My brothers and me used to wrestle them all the time when they came up onto our property from the creek."

  I hear her say something as I walk toward the gator, but I ignore her. I get the rope ready and start circling the gator.

  He clearly doesn't like me. He rears up on his toes and hisses and roars at me. I guess he's around ten or eleven feet long.

  I throw the rope and miss, and he mock charges me. I retreat in a hurry to where the kids are standing. They all scream and scatter, but I can't focus on them. It kind of feels like they're in the background somewhere.

  I get the rope ready and head on over again. This time the gator's standing up high and I manage to get it over his head before he starts moving. I jerk it, pulling him off his feet.

  The kids all scream.

  Now the fight's on. He writhes and twists, trying to get away. I run around waiting for a chance, and I jump onto him from behind. Sitting astride him, I push down as hard as I can on his head to keep his jaw closed and away from me. When I find his back legs with my feet, I kick them out from under him so he can't push himself over. I have to prevent him from going into a roll.

  He's a strong one, but I hold on.

  With one hand holding his head down, I pull the duct tape from my pocket and use my mouth to un-peel some. "Someone throw me a jacket," I yell.

  One of the boys runs over and tosses his jacket at me. I can just reach it. I throw it over the gator's eyes. Then I slide both hands around his jaw and haul back on it. He can't move with his neck bent back like that. I start winding the duct tape around his jaw so he can't open it.

  Once I've done that I am able to wind the rope around his back legs so he can't go anywhere. Then I jump off him and dust myself off.

  There's a moment of silence before the kids all start talking at once. "That was unbelievable," one teacher says. "You're one crazy lady. That gator could have killed you."

  "I know," I say, "but I've done it enough times before. That's about the biggest I've ever had to wrestle though. My brothers used to take on the big ones when they were here."

  "What do we do now?"

  "Try calling animal control in Grover. That gator will stay put for a while. They'll know what to do with him. Just don't let them shoot him. That's real important. I'll be pissed if they hurt him. They need to take him to some place where he can't hurt anyone or bother kids at school."

  On my way back to my office, I stop at R.S.'s Sandwich shop and get a catfish sandwich. "What happened to you?" he says. "You look like you wrestled a gator or something."

  "I did." I don't think he believes me.

  My cell phone rings. "I found the murderer," Gasser says.

  I rush back to my office.

  "He's been in your computer," Gasser tells me, and sniffs. "You don't smell too good. Your clothes are all messed up too. What have you been doing?"

  "I had to wrestle a gator that was in the schoolyard scaring the kids." I pull my phone out to call Jimmie-Ray.

  Gasser is staring at me like he's not sure whether to believe me or not.

  The phrase "adrenalin junkie" runs through my mind. Maybe LaMercy's right. I do feel pretty good right now.

  Redneck P.I.,

  Kick Assitude

  Backwoods Boogie

  Redneck Detective Series.

  For more information go to the author's website…

  https://www.trishjackson.com