Ken Goddard - Double blind

"You really don't want to ask that question right about now," Dwight Stoner warned as he gratefully accepted another baked potato and a large helping of salad from Susan LaGrange.

"He's right," Thomas Woeshack agreed, waving his half-eaten ear of corn. "Liable to make you sick. I used to eat raw whale blubber for breakfast every morning, and I don't even want to think about it."

"Are you sure you want to hear about this during dinner, with Susan here…?" Henry Lightstone let the statement trail off meaningfully.

"That does it." Susan LaGrange grabbed an ear of corn from the tray and aimed it at Lightstone's head. "I've spent the last twenty years listening to you guys talk about ninety-three different categories of dead bodies and every depraved sexual behavior known to man, woman, and beast, so give. What are you guys doing out here?"

"Okay" — Lightstone shrugged agreeably — "you asked for it."

And he told them.

"Mother of God," a decidedly pale Bobby LaGrange whispered after his former partner finished.

"Seven hundred and fifty giant spiders?" Susan LaGrange gasped. If anything, she looked even paler than her husband.

The entire covert team nodded glumly.

"I think that's just… horrible." Susan's maternal instincts automatically kicked in. "How can they make you do something like that? If that was me, I'd… I'd crawl into my bed and pull the covers over my head."

"Don't think we haven't considered that," Lightstone commented dryly.

"Hey, maybe if you talked to our boss," Dwight Stoner suggested hopefully.

"I take back everything I said about you guys." Bobby LaGrange shuddered. "Give me that hammerhead, any day of the week."

"But what will you do if one of those snakes bites you?" Susan LaGrange couldn't have looked more stricken if she'd found herself serving dinner to a bunch of war orphans.

"Well, since we haven't received any of the antivenins we ordered yet, I guess we'd just drive like hell to the nearest hospital," Mike Takahara replied.

"Oh no, you're not!" Larry Paxton declared emphatically. "Ain't nobody gonna be driving to no damned hospital 'til we get all them things out of those boxes and into those terrariums, I don't care who gets bit by what. I'm telling you, I ain't gonna be the last one standing in that warehouse while all the rest of you crybabies are driving like hell to God knows where just because some little-bitty snake looked at you sideways."

"Got any ideas on how to fake a snake bite?" Stoner asked Mike Takahara, pausing halfway down a butter-drenched ear of corn.

The tech agent nodded. "Several."

"Good. We'll talk later."

"But… how in the world are you ever going to get those things into all those terrariums?" Susan LaGrange asked.

"We have no idea," Larry Paxton confessed. "Been thinking about trying to feed them through the air holes."

"Actually, that's not entirely true." Dwight Stoner smiled cheerfully over at Henry Lightstone. "One of us happens to be blessed with very quick reflexes, so we figure if the rest of us'll just go outside and nail the warehouse doors shut — "

"Hey, don't look at me," Henry Lightstone protested. "I'm not the one who pissed Halahan off — "

"Oh yes you are," Larry Paxton retorted. "You're the one who kissed that new agent gal and rubbed yourself all over her body."

"Henry, I'm ashamed of you." Susan's eyebrows rose in interest as she turned to Paxton. "I want to hear all the details. Every one of them," she emphasized.

"We're ashamed of him, too," the covert team leader assured her. "Which is exactly why we're not about to let him wander around the town trying to buy up all the Bigfoot souvenirs in Oregon while the rest of us are…"

"Bigfoot?" Susan LaGrange blinked. "You're investigating people who sell Bigfoot souvenirs, Henry?"

"And Indian battle charms," Thomas Woeshack reminded his superior.

Lightstone and Paxton nodded glumly.

"But how can you investigate people for killing a Bigfoot?" Susan LaGrange asked reasonably. "They're mythical beasts."

"Actually, it's a long story," Henry Lightstone sighed, "but — "

Susan LaGrange looked over at her husband. "Should we tell them?"

"No, absolutely not."

Henry Lightstone looked back and forth between his two longtime friends.

"Tell us what?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's nothing," Bobby dismissed the subject quickly. "Just rancher stuff. You know, bullshit and cow shit, and crazy old coots you find wandering the back forty. Nothing you'd be interested in."

Lightstone looked back at Susan again. "He knows something about this, doesn't he?"

"Susan, I'm warning you…"

"I'll tell you all about that agent gal — especially the body-rubbing stuff," Lightstone promised.

"Deal." Susan LaGrange grinned victoriously at her husband and turned to Lightstone. "What your ex-partner doesn't want to tell you is that tomorrow morning he plans to buy a genuine Apache Indian battle charm, and maybe even a piece of Bigfoot fur to — get a load of this — ward off evil ranching spirits."

Henry Lightstone blinked, then smiled broadly.

"An Apache Indian battle charm, and a piece of Bigfoot fur… to ward off what?"

"Evil ranching spirits." His hostess grinned cheerfully. "See, I told you he was losing his mind."

"Hey, wait a minute…!" Larry Paxton started to protest, but Henry Lightstone waved him off.

"Oh no, I want to hear more about this." Henry Lightstone turned to his ex-homicide detective partner. "Come on, Bobby, 'fess up. Just who do you intend to buy all these spiritual goodies from?"

Bobby LaGrange glared at his wife. "I think I'm gonna need a lawyer."

"Hey, buddy boy, I'm all the lawyer you're ever going to need, and don't you ever forget it," Susan LaGrange retorted. "And to answer your question, Special Agent Lightstone," she said, turning to Henry, "he's meeting some crazy old coot at the local pancake house tomorrow morning at 8:00 A.M. sharp."

"And he really thinks these things will ward off evil ranch spirits?" Mike Takahara asked.

"Ask him." Susan LaGrange shrugged dramatically.

"Hey, if you'd been up in that tree for three hours before anyone bothered to come out and see if you were okay-" Bobby LaGrange retorted defensively.

"I'd be nailing a whole damned Bigfoot hide to that tree, right alongside the bull," Stoner agreed, nodding between mouthfuls of baked potato and steak.

"Us Eskimos usually just nail a walrus penis bone to the door," Thomas Woeshack volunteered graciously. "That usually works pretty good, too, especially once they start getting ripe."

"Uh, this crazy old coot." Henry Lightstone pursued the subject of his greatest interest carefully. "You wouldn't happen to know his name, would you?"

"You mean old Sage, the soothsayer? I'm not sure." Susan LaGrange looked over at her husband. "Do we know his real name?"

If anything, Henry Lightstone's smile grew even broader as he turned to Larry Paxton, who looked totally stricken.

"Tomorrow morning, 8:00 A.M. sharp, at the local pancake house," he repeated cheerfully. "Good old Sage, the soothsayer. Talk about a once in a lifetime opportunity. Can you believe it? My buddy, the illegal wildlife dealer, saves the day again."

"What do you mean, illegal wildlife dealer?" Bobby LaGrange demanded.

"How the hell does he do that?" Mike Takahara asked Woeshack and Stoner plaintively.

"Karma?" Thomas Woeshack suggested.

"Nah, just plain dumb luck," Stoner grumbled.

"Lightstone, if you think you're gonna bail out on us on account of some stupid-ass coincidence," Paxton warned his wild-card agent darkly, "you can just…"

"No, no, wait a minute," Henry interrupted, holding up his hand. "Halahan's briefing document, page twenty-nine, and I quote from memory: 'Special Agent Lightstone will endeavor to determine subject Sage's source of materials, as well as any links he may have with other illicit wildlife parts and products dealers in the area.' "