“I cut him off.”
“According to Rinaldi, Slidell 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.”
“Slidell 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, practically drove her patrol car through the ER doors, Skinny said.”
“Hmm.”
“He also phoned me from the hospital to fill me in.”
“Hmm.”
“And he’s admitted he was wrong about Tamela.”
“He has?”
“Took the family a chrysanthemum.”
“Skinny did that?”
“Yellow 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 really is a good cop.”
A smile tickled Ryan’s mouth.
“How about Agent Cousins?”
“All right. Maybe I misjudged Cousins. Anyway, Katy never went to Myrtle Beach with him.”
“Where was she?”
“Spending a few days in Asheville with Pete. She didn’t bother to tell me because she was miffed over my pressing her about the Grim Reaper e-mails. But it doesn’t matter, anyway. Katy called from Charlottesville this morning all 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 naive 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 million 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 will have turtles.’”
“That’s idiocy that rings a bell.”
“These kind citizens will be happy to sell you a pair of Galapagos 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.
“Listen to this.” I quoted from the article I’d been reading. “‘In 1996 Hector Ugalde pled guilty to federal conspiracy charges in Brazil for smuggling hyacinth’s macaws.’” I looked up. “Ugalde got three years’ probation and a ten-thousand-dollar fine. That’ll really stop him.”
Boyd came over and put his snout on my knee. I stroked his head.
“Everyone knows about whales, and pandas, and tigers, and rhinos. Those animals are sexy. They have foundations and sweatshirts and posters.”
Boyd followed a sandpiper with his eyes, considered.
“Fifty thousand plants and animals become extinct each year, Ryan. Within half a century one-quarter of the world’s species could be gone.” I flapped a hand at the ocean. “And it’s not just over there. One-third of all U.S. plants and animals are at risk of extinction.”
“Take a breath.”
I did.
“Listen to this.” I resumed reading, selecting excerpts. “‘At least four hundred and thirty medicines containing eighty endangered and threatened species have been documented in the United States alone. At least one-third of all patented Oriental medicine items available in the United States contain protected species.’”
I looked up.
