Page 21 of Refuge for Flora

“What the hell is going on here?” Frankie asked as he stepped up to Barrett.

“Walk with me.” Barrett took off down the hill, and he could hear Frankie behind him, chugging along. “Got a call from a Texas game warden. They apprehended a truckload of alligators down there.”

“What? Why did he call you?”

“Because the suspects finally admitted that they came from western Kentucky.”

“What the hell? Are you sure?”

“I don’t think that game warden was making shit up to have a reason to call me. I mean, I know I’m a hunk and the cult of personality, but?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you really think there are alligators somewhere around here?”

“Man, I’m just tellin’ you what he told me. All I’m sayin’ is that one of those idiots in your back seat just said something like, ‘At least they’re not alligators.’ When I asked him what he said, he clammed up like a nun’s cooch. If they know something, I want to know. Hear me?”

“Yeah, but if?”

“Make ‘em talk, Frankie. I need that information. I mean it. Did you know Kirby and I came upon a booby trap on the back side of that hill…”

“But we?”

“…after youtoldus you guys had cleared all that? I mean, what the fuck, Frankie? You want us to work with you, but what you really want is for us to workforyou. We don’t work for you. We work for the citizens of this state, and if there are alligators out there somewhere, we need to know. Do you understand?”

“I get it, Quarles. I get it. I’ll see what I can find out.”

“You do that. Here,” Barrett said as he reached into the truck’s bed and handed the twelve catch poles to Frankie. “Make yourself useful.”

Toting six of the crates as they went, Barrett followed Frankie back up the drive to the house to start the process of removing the animals. It was going to be a long night.

But… alligators. That would make it all worth the time and trouble.

* * *

When they’d finally shownup, animal control had taken the dogs as evidence. He and Kirby had spent two hours burying the coyotes as the vet put them down. He was tired, hot, dirty, sweaty, stinky, and pissed off to no end. He’d just headed out from the operation and driven about two miles when he realized he hadn’t talked to his parents in almost a week, so he gave his mom a quick call to catch up. He told her about the bust, and threw in the fact that Mrs.Murphy had hired help. “Oh, a woman? How old is she?”

“I dunno. Mid-thirties, I guess?”

“Is she pretty?”

“Uh, I guess so. Maybe.” Yeah. She definitely was. But he wasn’t going to tell his mom that. If he did, she’d have a wedding planned by the next weekend. Why he’d told her about Flora in the first place, he had no idea. “How’s Dad? What’s he up to?”

They were still on the phone when he pulled into his driveway and groaned. “What’s wrong, son?”

“Jesse’s here.”

“Where?”

“I’m home and Jesse’s here.”

“Barrett, you really need to?”

“I know, Mom. I’m trying, okay? I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“But Barrett, you know that?” And he hung up.

There was only room for one truck in the garage, and he kept his department truck in there. Having it sitting out in western McCrackenCounty with a KDFWR crest on the door was just asking for trouble. The last thing he needed was to come out and find the thing vandalized or, worse yet, somebody shooting into his house when they realized a conservation officer lived there. As soon as he stepped out of the truck’s cab, he could hear music coming from the house. He opened the door into the house from the garage and hadn’t made it two steps when a voice called out, “Where have you been?”

He shuffled into the living room and turned his palms up in resignation. “Where does it look like I’ve been? I’ve been at work.”

---