Free Swamp Team 3 by Jana DeLeon Page B

any reason that someone would want to hurt Ally. That girl has got to be the nicest person in this town.”
    “That might be reason enough.”
    “Ha. You got a point there. But still, I can’t think of anything to be gained. I don’t know her mother’s financial situation but I don’t think she has much to speak of besides that house.”
    I nodded. “That’s my understanding as well. And if someone were looking to kill Ally to inherit, the last thing they’d do was burn down the only asset she had.”
    “Exactly. But what other reason could there be?”
    “I have no idea. Ida Belle, Gertie, and I ran through every possibility we could think of this afternoon but Ally can’t come up with a single reason someone would be out to get her. We’ve decided to go with the ‘completely insane attacker’ idea for the time being.”
    “Given the lack of facts, it seems the only possibility, but then that doesn’t really narrow down your suspects—not if you’re assuming it’s a Sinful resident.”
    “We thought we’d start with Floyd Guidry.”
    Walter raised his eyebrows. “He’s certainly got the backbone for it, and the anger issues.”
    “That’s what I hear. We’re going to try to establish opportunity tomorrow—”
    Walter held up a hand. “The less I know, the better. Carter was in here earlier stomping around and muttering about the three of you and a bobcat. I didn’t even ask.”
    “Floyd has a pet bobcat, and I’m not going to share how I know that.”
    “That’s probably best.”
    “Anyway, Floyd wasn’t the reason I stopped by. I have a personal project that I want to work on tonight, and I’d like you to keep it between the two of us.”
    “I’m intrigued. What’s the project?”
    I glanced behind me to make sure the store was still empty, then leaned across the counter. “Did you hear about the creeper at my house last night?”
    Walter nodded. “Carter mentioned that as well. Said you threw a cat on him.”
    I rolled my eyes. “The creeper threw my cat on him. Anyway, I don’t know what the guy was up to—maybe it’s related to the fire, maybe not—but I have this feeling that he’ll come back.”
    “And you want to catch him?”
    “Not necessarily.  
    Walter’s eyes widened. “You don’t want to kill him, do you?”
    “No! At least, not until I know what he’s up to. Then I reserve the right to change my mind.”
    “That seems reasonable.”
    I grinned. Even though every minute of my existence in Sinful, I felt like a fish out of water, I had formed a huge appreciation for Southern practicality. “I was looking more to mark him.”
    “Paint gun?”
    “I was thinking something that lasts a bit longer and can’t be washed off. What can you tell me about shooting someone with rock salt?”
    Walter gave me an approving nod. “You’re thinking the salt will scare him off from whatever nefarious thing he has planned and give him some marks you may be able to see the next day or so.”
    “That was my thinking, but I’ve never shot rock salt. Would it work?”
    “If you’re within thirty feet of him or so, it should leave some good red marks, maybe break the skin a place or two.”
    “Sounds perfect.”
    He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a box of shotgun shells. “It so happens, I keep a few in stock. For my better customers, of course.”
    I pulled one of the shells out and studied it. It didn’t look any different from a regular shotgun shell. “You do good work. This looks factory.”
    Walter blushed at my praise, the red tips of his ears almost glowing against his silver hair. “Oh, everyone around here knows how to load shells.”
    “I bet they don’t like this. If you were thirty years younger, I’d marry you.”
    His blush deepened. “It so happens there’s a version of me in town who is a bit younger. I’m not admitting to thirty years.”
    “I think the bobcat incident might have killed things on that front,” I said.
    Walter