Winterkill. P.H. Turner

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СКАЧАТЬ talk to you. How’d you get him to sit for an interview?” Clay asked.

      “I appealed to his vanity. Suggested to him that he didn’t want to see this story run without his expert opinion.”

      “You on a fishing trip with Carlisle, or you got something?” Clay looked up at me.

      “Fishing.”

      “He’s an important businessman in the community. I don’t want the station lawyers having to defend a defamation suit.”

      “Got it,” I answered, walking out. I turned and called his name softly. “Clay, I’m a professional. No proof. No story.” The tension eased in his face. “And Clay, cut the kiddo, will you?”

      He knitted his brows and cocked his head to one side, “Sorry Sawyer. Just a habit. I call everyone kiddo. You don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

      “Thanks.”

      Benita was standing in the edit bay with two coffees. Bless her. “Thought you might need some extra this morning.”

      “Definitely.”

      “Clay calls me kiddo, too. I don’t like it either. I keep wondering if he thinks I’m still a kid.”

      “It means what it means. Kiddo. An adult-to-child form of address. I haven’t been a kiddo in many years and neither have you. Clay’s a good guy. He’ll deal with it.”

      “I hope so.”

      “I’ve got about thirty minutes of work here before the Carlisle shoot,” I said.

      “I’ll be ready in thirty,” she murmured, engrossed in her editing.

      I took my coffee to my office, got comfy and started working the phone. “Hi Sam. Got a minute?”

      “One,” he said abruptly. I’m on my way to a cow that has been in breach labor all night. Whatcha need?”

      “Did you work any of those old cases of mutilations around here?”

      “No. Foster’s bull was my first. I hoping it’s my last, but I don’t believe it.”

      “Why do you think it wasn’t a one-time event?”

      “Young lady, I can do some research too, you know. Folks that cut up animals for fun don’t just do it one time.”

      “Had some aspects of ritual with that tamped down grass and rock cairn,” I said.

      “Don’t forget his balls were cut off. And are missing.”

      “Hard to overlook that. How many people you think have the skills and tools to do that?”

      “That’s Barton’s job. Talk to him,” he growled.

      “What message is he sending by taking the testes?”

      “I’m a vet. Only message I see is, you aren’t getting calves this year. I do know the asshole doesn’t know how to figure a dose of anesthetic. I got work to do. Just drove through the ranch gate.”

      Sam had the tools and the skills. A vet tech might have access to the tools and witnessed lots of castrations. Nurse? Doctor? Surgical tech? Rancher who castrates his own bulls? There were too many people who could get their hands on a good knife and have some knowledge. But who had the most to gain?

      I called Jake. No answer. Damn it! Why couldn’t he answer his cell phone! “Jake, it’s Sawyer. That offer for coffee still stands. I’m on my way to interview George Carlisle. I need your perspective to balance this story. Give me a call.”

      * * * *

      Carlisle’s office was dark and stuffy. Benita set up an auxiliary light and the dust motes danced through the stale air. “Ready for a sound check?” Benita called out from behind her camera. Carlisle was rubbing the two fingers of his left hand across his forehead. I asked Carlisle about the picture of him and his dogs while Benita checked his audio level. He quit fidgeting and picked up the picture.

      “These two bitches are my prize cattle dogs. Work a herd all day without a whimper.” Benita gauged his voice levels, giving me a thumbs up. “Whelped some great pups out of these two.”

      He looked less antsy. Nothing worse than an interviewee who stares straight into the camera lens, nods, and answers stiffly “Yes” or “No” to every question. Hard to make those interviews stick to tape.

      Benita counted me down and cued me. After the standard request that he agreed to be interviewed and the thank you’s, I pitched him an easy first question. “How did you get started in the cattle business?”

      Carlisle leaned into the camera, hanging his hands between his spread knees. “I came back from Nam in ’69 with a little money in my pocket. I didn’t want to move back onto the family ranch with my dad. I wanted my own place so I used my stake from the Army to start Cattleman’s Auction in ’70. Had my first cow-calf auction that spring. Cow-calf pairs went for under twenty dollars back then. Yesterday we sold five cow-calf pairs for twelve hundred a pair.” He shook a leonine white head. “Business has improved.” A satisfied smile split his craggy face.

      “Tell me some of the changes you’ve made.”

      He jerked his jaw up and expanded his chest. “My feedlots are open twenty-four hours a day. We have our regular weekly sales and our special quarterly sales like the one you saw the other day. We live stream our auctions. Come a long way from the two squeeze shoots and a couple of holding pens I started with.”

      “Does Cattleman’s Auction handle the sale of buffalo for the local ranchers?”

      Carlisle swung his weight forward in the chair, his booted feet thudding on the floor. “Absolutely not. Buffalo are a menace to cattle. Heard of brucellosis? Threatens the cattlemen’s way of life.” Carlisle’s knarled finger was jabbing the air in front of my face. Spittle sprayed on my cheek. “Brucellosis can destroy an entire cattle herd. Ask Wayne Johnston or Sam Jordan. They lost years of breeding. They’ll never build a herd like the ones destroyed. You know what happens to an infected heifer? Abortion and sterility. Heifer’s worthless if she can’t be bred.”

      “Why do you think buffalo are the problem?”

      Carlisle leaned forward gripping the rough wooden desk top. “Buffalo are the host animal for the infection. Why do you think the government regulates those wild bison in Yellowstone? To keep them away from domestic cattle. I won’t help buffalo ranchers make a dime off their herds by slaughtering their meat.”

       “How does the infection spread to cattle?”

      “Disease spreads through a healthy animal eating the infected animal’s placenta or licking the cord blood after the birth. Animals are attracted to the rich blood in the birth fluids—good protein source for them. Animals seek out birth sites. Can’t keep ’em away from it.”

      “Why aren't ranchers fencing their cattle away from the buffalo?”

      “You listening, Ms. Cahill?” He rubbed his fist in the palm of his hand. “Buffalo pass the disease to the elk, the deer and СКАЧАТЬ