Free Hostile Borders by Dennis Chalker Page B

here in the sticks, I see,” Reaper said.
    â€œHey, us heartless attorneys have to hide out somewhere,” Hausmann said as he handed Reaper a mug of beer. “Might as well suffer in style.”
    The first cold Corona in an icy mug went down well. The Western barbecue that Hausmann pulled out of the kitchen oven went well with another beer and some small talk between old friends. Afterward, both men went outside to the swimming pool to enjoy some coffee and cigars and to treat the dogs to some bones Hausmann had specially ordered for them from the same place he had gotten the barbecue.
    Taking their treats and spreading out, each of the dogs lay down to enjoy a big bone from dinner. In the cool of the evening, even Jarhead was outside being sociable. It was startling to Reaper to hear the loud crunching and snapping sounds as the two rottweilers actually chewed up the bones.
    Bullfrogs from the river nearby were putting their own sounds out to compete with all of the birds in the area. There was even the buzz of hummingbirds slipping up to the flowers growing around the patio. As the stars came out and the evening darkened, a huge full moon rose to shine down from the east. The peaceful surroundings helped the two men open the conversation to more serious subjects.
    â€œSo where’s Colonel?” Reaper said, asking about the other German shepherd he remembered Hausmann having. “He wasn’t that old, was he?”
    â€œNo, he wasn’t too old,” Hausmann said with some heat in his voice. “There’s a bitch we call the snake lover who owns the property just south of mine. She’s trying to buy up all of the riparian land around here whenever it goes up for sale, which isn’t very often. The government is trying to buy every acre it can but she’s got some kind of pull with the local politicos and manages to pick up her share of it.
    â€œShe runs some kind of organic food company south of here, has a big ranch and warehousing just a mile or so from the border. It must be successful, she has too much money available for her crackpot schemes. She’s trying to make it illegal to harm a rattlesnake anywhere around here, has some kind of thing for the poisonous bastards. At any rate, I found Colonel down by the river about six months ago. He’d been poisoned and I swear that bitch was the only person who could have done it. She hated my dogs, said they scared all of the local animals.”
    â€œYou didn’t take her to court?” Reaper asked.
    â€œNot enough evidence to prosecute. Or at least that’s what the sheriff said. I would sue her myself except that I’ve been wrapped up in a criminal case for the last several months and haven’t had a minute free. Well, paybacks are a bitch.”
    Leaning back in his chair, Hausmann took a long drag on his cigar.
    â€œI was really sorry to hear about you and Mary,” Hausmann said, changing the subject.
    â€œWell, we did give it a good try,” Reaper said after a long pull from his beer. “We just finally had to admit that we just weren’t going to work out well. We had to finally call it quits before we tore each other apart, and made Ricky’s life completely miserable. I think she’s happy now teaching school. And Ricky’s developing a good set of friends. I see them as much as I can and they both know that I’ll always be there for them should they need anything at all.”
    There was a flash of sadness that went through Reaper’s eyes. Most of the men who had served in the Teams kept their emotions solidly in check, their feelings to themselves. It wasn’t that they didn’t feel happiness, or sadness, anger, joy, or sorrow. In fact, they felt all of these emotions and more, and they were felt more strongly than the average person experienced them.
    SEALs lived on the edge. Even just conducting their training was dangerous. Operators had died over the