Ryan stuck a finger in his book to mark the page.
“Rinaldi’s background check on Dorton turned up the fact that Ricky Don’s Marine Corps smuggling buddy al those years ago was none other than the current Lancaster County coroner. Slidel tried to warn you about Park when he phoned your cel with the news about Aiker’s note.”
“I cut him off.”
“According to Rinaldi, Slidel fumed for a while, then agreed to drop by the annex. You weren’t at home, but Geneva showed them your note.”
“Which said I was going to South Carolina.”
“Slidel put that together with your funeral wisecrack, and he and Rinaldi hauled ass to Lancaster. Got there right about the time the rattler was introducing himself to you. Woolsey was with them and she hauled you to the hospital, practical y drove her patrol car through the ER doors, Skinny said.”
“Hmm.”
“He also phoned me from the hospital to fil me in.”
“Hmm.”
“And he’s admitted he was wrong about Tamela.”
“He has?”
“Took the family a chrysanthemum.”
“Skinny did that?”
“Yel ow one. Made a special trip to Wal-Mart for it.”
Skinny took Gideon Banks a plant.
Hmm.
“I guess I’ve been pretty hard on Skinny. I hate to admit it, but the guy real y is a good cop.” A smile tickled Ryan’s mouth.
“How about Agent Cousins?”
“Al right. Maybe I misjudged Cousins. Anyway, Katy never went to Myrtle Beach with him.”
“Where was she?”
“Spending a few days in Ashevil e with Pete. She didn’t bother to tel me because she was miffed over my pressing her about the Grim Reaper e-mails.
But it doesn’t matter, anyway. Katy cal ed from Charlottesvil e this morning al agog over some premed student named Sheldon Seabourne.”
“Ah, fickle youth.”
Ryan and I settled back to our reading. With each page I was realizing how naïve my faith in the Green Movement had been. At moments my disgust boiled over. One such moment arrived shortly.
“Did you know that more than nine mil ion turtles and snakes were exported from the United States in 1996?” Ryan dropped his book to his chest. “Bet you can think of a couple you wish had been among them.”
“Ever hear of the Captive Bred Wildlife Foundation in Arizona?”
“No.”
“Their slogan is ‘When turtles are outlawed, only outlaws wil have turtles.’”
“That’s idiocy that rings a bel .”
“These kind citizens wil be happy to sel you a pair of Galápagos tortoises for eight to ten thousand bucks. You could take a sparrow, put it on the endangered species list, and some asshole would pay two grand for it.”
“There’s CITES,” Ryan said. “And the Endangered Species Act.”
“Protection on paper,” I said with disdain. “Too many loopholes, too little enforcement. Remember Rachel Mendelson’s tale of the Spix’s macaw?” Ryan nodded.