Read Online Tortoise Soup by Jessica Speart - Free Book Online

it was murder,” I stated matter-of-factly.
    Sam continued to paint without saying a word. I was used to my old boss Charlie Hickok’s ways: he’d rake me over the coals whenever I said something he didn’t agree with. I could live with that. I enjoyed duking it out and arguing to get my way. It was the silent treatment that killed me. And Sam was a master at it. I had become determined to outwit him at his own game, staying silent as long as he did. My cool lasted all of two seconds until I crumbled.
    “Did you know that Annie was illegally dealing in reptiles?” I demanded in a rush.
    Sam carefully shifted his weight back in his chair and slowly studied the painting in front of him before bothering to answer. “Sure did. Never could catch her, though.”
    It was a common problem. The reptile trade tends to be fast and furious, with both critters and people in and out quicker than you can snag poachers in the act. At one time, I had suggested that we set up a stakeout, anxious to make my mark and nab a few bad guys. But Sam had nixed the idea, claiming, “We don’t have enough bodies to carry it out. Besides, nobody gives a damn anyway.”
    I offered another idea on Annie’s demise. “Could it be that she got knocked off by a competitor in the trade?”
    Sam chewed on that for all of a moment. “Nah. Don’t sound right to me.”
    Sam clearly didn’t want any uncalled-for investigations on my part. He considered himself a realist where wildlife crime was concerned and had more than once voiced the opinion, “I just try to do the right thing and forget about the fact that it’s hopeless.”
    I still wasn’t willing to buy in on hopeless as an option. Charlie Hickok had taught me to be a one-woman kamikaze hit team, to set my target straight for the jugular and not let go.
    I tried another approach. “What about the fact that Annie had staked so many claims? Maybe she really did find a stash of gold and the wrong people found out about it.”
    Sam touched up a brush stroke on Maizie’s muzzle. “Those claims ain’t worth the fees she paid for them. Any fool knows that.”
    “Then what about those imprints of tortoises that I found both at the Center and at Annie’s?”
    Sam squinted at the painting and added a dash more blue to the sky. “Don’t see no basis for a murder case there.” He put down his brush and turned to look at me. “Forget about Annie McCarthy. That’s Metro’s business. What have you got on those missing torts?”
    I let the subject of Annie drop for now and filled him in on my meeting with Cammo Dude.
    Sam chuckled as he wiped spots of paint off his hands. “That crazy old codger runs around dressed in camouflage trying to make everyone think he was napalmed in ’Nam. Truth is, he used to run a meth lab up in an old shack back in those hills.”
    I must have looked puzzled.
    “You know, the fifty-fifty drug?” Sam continued. “Take it and you got a fifty percent chance of living and a fifty percent chance of dying. Well, Cammo got a dose of both. He had a batch of meth cooking up there one day when the damn shack blew up on him. The fumes knocked him down to his knees and he hit a meth oil spill. Burned the skin right off his face.” He lit up a Marlboro and studied his boots. “What wild goose chase did he send you on?”
    I suddenly felt foolish. “He told me about a group of burned-out scientists up in the pass. He thought they might have something to do with the tortoises’ disappearance.”
    Sam’s head jerked up. “You been out there yet?”
    His interest caught me off guard and I was suddenly cautious. “I was out there early this morning.”
    “Who’d you meet?” An ash from his cigarette fell onto the tip of his boot, but Sam barely noticed.
    “A wildlife biologist who used to work with Fish and Wildlife by the name of Georgia Peach,” I said, gauging his reaction.
    Sam looked away, as if judging how much to reveal. “The boys back in Washington fired