Buck Fever (Blanco County Mysteries) (21 page)

“Tapeworm,” Marlin replied.

“Oh, uh, well,” Susannah stammered, unsure whether to laugh. After all, the man was a game warden. Who knew what he might pick up out in the woods? “I know you're busy today, with opening day and everything, so I won't take up much of your time.”

“I appreciate that, but this is important stuff. Don't rush on my account.” Marlin gestured toward the booth and they took a seat.

A waitress quickly took Susannah's order—coffee only—and scooted away.

Susannah ran her hands through her hair and said, “What we're working on is a piece that addresses the environmental effects of clearing brush. Any possible effects on wildlife, livestock, etcetera. I figured you'd be the best man to talk to—especially with Trey Sweeney in the shape he's in.”

Trey Sweeney was the county wildlife biologist—an ace in his field, but somewhat eccentric. Sweeney had recently returned from a vacation in Brazil, where he had contracted a mean case of dengue fever. His health was much better now, but Trey had been acting a little more strangely than usual lately. The previous Saturday night, a deputy had found Trey at the high school football stadium, rooting wildly for the home team. Unfortunately, the football game had been played the night before.

Marlin nodded at Susannah. “I'm glad you called. I think it's important that the ranchers and other landowners hear the other side of the brush-clearing story.” Six months ago, with Blanco County in the midst of a severe drought, county commissioners had recommended that residents remove as much brush from their land as possible. After all, brush—chiefly small scrub cedar trees—consumed an enormous amount of surface and ground water. By removing it, residents hoped to replenish the aquifer and pump life back into sluggish wells.

Residents had responded by conducting a full-out assault on cedar trees. Across the countryside, the buzz of chainsaws became as persistent as the droning of summertime cicadas. Huge mounds of cut cedar waited to be burned on every ranch, deer lease, and rural homesite in the county. To date, officials estimated that ten percent of the cedar had been removed. To John Marlin and other wildlife officials, this was cause for alarm. They knew that a drastic change to the ecosystem—like clearing every cedar in the county—could have less-visible long-term implications.

Susannah removed a small tape recorder from her satchel. “You mind if I tape this?” she asked. “Helps me get all the quotes right.”

“Sure. No problem.”

“Well, Mr. Marlin,” Susannah said with false formality, something she herself found rather charming, “tell me what you think about all this cedar clearing.”

Marlin paused for a moment and took a sip of coffee. “Let me start by saying that it's not necessarily a bad idea. But it might not be a good idea either. We obviously have a water problem, as we've all known for some time. Seems like every year we hear about how it's getting worse. Wells run dry, springs and creeks quit flowing, and Pedernales Reservoir is at a record low, even though we haven't opened a floodgate since the dam was built. And just looking at the face of it, clearing cedar seems like a good way to attack the problem.”

“But…” Susannah prompted him.

Marlin shrugged. “I think we're all kind of rushing things. We need to step back, take a look at the bigger picture and think about how our actions could effect the wildlife. Animals have four basic biological requirements—food, water, space, and cover. Whenever man interferes with any one of those, it can have major consequences. For instance, white-tailed deer need brush cover to survive.”

“But the deer don't eat cedar trees, do they?”

“No, but they usually bed down in thick brush. And they use it to move around without being seen. Without all the cedars, they'd be a lot more vulnerable to predators like coyotes, cougars, and bobcats. Especially the fawns.”

“I never thought about that.”

Marlin shook his head. “Most people don't. But for all the ranch owners who are making good money with deer leases, it's something they should consider. They should be wondering what the deer population will be like in five or ten years.

“It's not just the deer,” Marlin continued, speaking with obvious heartfelt intensity. “Wild turkey, rabbits, raccoons—they all need a fair amount of brushy habitat. And people should keep in mind that if you fool around with one link in the food chain, it can cause a domino effect. Let's say—just as an example—we remove all the brush and the rabbits become easy prey. Coyotes will have a field day for a while and their population will explode. Pretty soon, we've got coyotes all over the place, but they've eaten all the rabbits. So what do they go after next? Livestock. Goats, sheep, calves. I
know
the ranchers don't want that.

“Or here's another good example: the beaver. Five hundred years ago, before the Europeans came over, there were maybe three-hundred million beavers in North America. Place was crawling with them, from Mexico all the way up to Alaska. But then one of the English kings ruled that only beaver fur could be used to make hats. So beaver fur became big business, and it almost wiped ’em out. Fewer beavers meant fewer beaver dams, and that had a horrible impact on the natural habitat. Suddenly, all the ponds and watering holes that the beavers created were disappearing, which had an effect on waterfowl, songbirds, deer and elk, raccoons, the list goes on. Hell, those dams even helped keep the aquifers full back then by slowing down runoff. They limited soil erosion, even helped ease flooding.”

Marlin shook his head and smiled thinly. “I know I'm rambling on a little. We're here to talk about cedar clearing, right?”

“No, that's all right,” Susannah said, leaning forward, trying to make eye contact. “Like you say, it all ties together. I can tell this issue means a lot to you. You're a very passionate man, John. I can see that in you.”

The game warden held her gaze for a few seconds, smiling, playing the game with her. Then he glanced down at his cup. “I need a little more coffee. You want some?”

Susannah nodded, and Marlin gestured at the waitress. “Okay, next question,” she said. “What about the red-necked sapsucker?”

“I was afraid you were going to ask me that.” He thought for a moment. “Yes, it's an endangered species and yes, it nests almost exclusively in cedar trees in Central Texas. So the official Parks and Wildlife Department position is that we are against most brush clearing in sapsucker habitat.”

“And what's your personal
position
, John?” Susannah asked.

He gave her an appreciative smile, acknowledging the double entendre. Just as he was about to respond, the waitress appeared to refill their coffee cups. After she left, Marlin's face was serious again. Back to business.

“Can we talk off the record?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“I think, sometimes, when a species becomes endangered, that's the way nature wants it. Think about it: More than ninety-nine percent of all species that ever existed are now extinct. And man has had little to do with the decline of the majority of them. Hell, with most of them, we couldn't have kept them around if we wanted to. They just weren't in Mother Nature's plan anymore, and when that happens, there's not a damn thing we can do about it.”

“That's an interesting point.” Susannah paused, stirring her coffee, unsure what to ask next.

“You're looking good, Susannah,” Marlin said, out of the blue. “Beautiful as ever.”

Susannah could feel her face getting warm. She was used to a little back-and-forth flirting, but nothing so direct and sincere. “Why, thank you, John. That's…that's very sweet.”

He nodded, drank the last of his coffee, then said, “So…we all done here?”

“One more question.” Susannah reached down and switched off the tape recorder. “Would you like to have coffee with me sometime?”

The game warden grinned and held up his cup. “We are having coffee.”

“No,” Susannah said. “I mean…well, you know what I mean.”

For the longest time, Susannah thought he wasn't going to answer.

The Complete Series of Blanco County Mysteries.

Available now, or coming soon, in ebook format.

Buck Fever

Bone Dry

Flat Crazy

Guilt Trip

Gun Shy

Holy Moly

For more information, visit
www.benrehder.com
.