Read Online Scavengers by Steven F. Havill - Free Book Online Page A

These little guys came up out of Mexico. Cameron Florek happened to see the truck that brought ’em. It’s hard to imagine, but there’s a good market for ’em. The folks who own all those half-acre ranchettes, and want to be real cowboys? Drop a burro or donkey in your front yard, and you’ve got a piece of ‘living sculpture,’ as a friend of mine calls ’em. Sidestep the permits and health inspections and all that government trivia, and there’s a fair amount of money to be made.” He leaned on the fence. “My guess is that these animals haven’t been here for more than a couple of days. And I’d guess that they won’t stay here long, either.”
    “You want to go in there with a warrant for a surprise visit. That’s what this is for?”
    “You betcha. I’m not going to chat with Mrs. Pope first, that’s for goddamn sure. A good picture or two will help me convince Judge Hobart to cut a warrant loose, but I think I want to wait a bit.”
    “I can’t imagine that the judge would hesitate,” Estelle said.
    Gastner shrugged. “Not with the animal health problems we’ve got now. Everybody’s worried, you know, and not just in England or Europe. That hoof-and-mouth disease thing is a real nightmare.” He nodded at the sheds. “Bring in animals like these, without proper health inspection, and we’re just asking for some real trouble.”
    He paused. “Transporting these little guys around the state without a permit is just a misdemeanor. Hobart’s not going to get excited about that. Me neither. But if these animals are headed out of state, that’s a different story altogether. That’s felony time.” He thumped the fence with the palm of his hand. “She’s got ’em packed in those stalls like cordwood. Maybe that’s what bothers me most.”
    “Bizarre,” Estelle said, and handed the binoculars back to Gastner. “It’d be interesting to know where they’re going.”
    “That’s the deal. If I just bust in there and confiscate ’em, I might never find out what her connections are.”
    “Let me see what it looks like,” Estelle said. She bent down and unzipped the camera bag, selected the largest lens and screwed it onto the camera body. She rested the lens in the V formed by the top of two boards. “Are the Popes home now?”
    “Eleanor works three days a week at Price’s HairPort, today included. So far I haven’t been able to establish what her son does. I’m assuming he’s home.”
    Estelle adjusted the exposure and frowned. “What I can get is a sea of brown, fuzzy backs and a bunch of ears,” she said. “Even with the sun shining into the stalls, there’s just too much shadow and obstruction for much else.”
    “That’s good, though. Two ears per beastie.” Gastner chuckled softly. “That gives us a good count.”
    “It’d be easy with a flash if we were closer.”
    Gastner shook his head. “I don’t want to be closer. I don’t want them to know I’m interested. I just want to find out what the hell they’re up to.”
    “The donkey source,” Estelle said.
    “That’s it.”
    “They’re cute little beasts. At least their ears are.”
    “Yes, they are. That’s why the market for ’em is so strong. They’re cute and small. You can keep one in the backyard. Use him to kick and bite the crap out of the neighbor’s poodle.”
    Estelle snapped several more photos of each stall. “That’s the best I can do, without going into the yard. I think you can get an ear count, though.”
    “That’ll do nicely.”
    “I’ll have Linda develop the film today.”
    “Wonderful. Cliff Larson’s giving me a hand watching the place. There’s only the one driveway out onto Escondido Lane, so they’re not going to slip away on us.”
    “How’s he doing, by the way?”
    “Cliff? Not well.” Gastner grimaced. “He’s dying, and he knows it. Something like this gives him something to do with his time, I guess.”
    Larson had become an institution as the district