‘So you’re thinking it’s me?’Raven’s bangles clattered as she popped one hand on a bony hip, with the shotgun at her side.‘If it was me, I’d set them free, then skedaddle.Not sit here and contemplate the meaning of life.And how would I get into that croc farm when their security is tighter than a bank?’Raven’s many dreadlocks shifted in waves as she shook her head.‘Good to see, they really raised the bar by hiring you two knuckleheads.’She rolled her eyes, hoisting her shotgun over her shoulder and casually strolled back to her camp.The back of her shirt displayed the hand painted bold words—Stop the Slaughter.
‘I know you didn’t take them, Raven, we’re just hoping you might know something.’Stone followed Raven, as Craig did his tracking thing by studying the soil’s indents that led Craig towards Raven’s dusty white van.
Nah, it couldn’t be that easy.Could it?
‘So why are you bothering me, then?Or did you do some ESP telepathic thingy to know I’ve just made a wicked brew, and this is your excuse to crash the party?Want some?’Raven pointed to the kettle sitting beside her low campfire.‘Maybe you shouldn’t.Not if you’ve got that fancy badge on, cos you’ll be tripping for days on this brew.’
Craig cleared his throat.‘Have you seen any unusual activity in the last 24 hours, Raven?’
‘Besides you lot?’Raven plonked onto her camping chair and poured herself a cup of tea that released a slightly musty aroma with a hint of damp soil.Some people did coffee, beer or wine this late in the afternoon—Raven did mushrooms.
‘As an activist,’ said Craig, ‘is this why you’re camped so close to the crocodile farm?’
‘In case you don’t realise this, Cowboy, it’s all Crown land this side of those croc farms, which means it’s free camping for me.Plus, the ranger and the pigs—present company excluded—don’t bother me out here…’ She scowled at them over her mug.‘Until you lot showed up.’
‘And what do you do as an activist against the crocodile farm?’
‘Because they breed those poor beasts just to skin them for rich people’s handbags and their vanity!’
Craig adjusted his hat.‘We knowwhyyou do it, Raven.I just want to know what youdoas part of your protests at the crocodile farm?’
Raven paused, glancing at Stone who gave the nod that it was okay to answer Craig’s questions.
‘Well, I tried to take photos of animal cruelty—’
‘All those croc farms are spot-checked regularly to ensure they meet strict ethical and humane codes—that are stricter than a kosher abattoir,’ explained Stone.‘We’ve talked about this, Raven.’
‘Yeah, I know.’Leaning back in her chair, she put her cup down to cool on a rock she was using as a side table.
‘What else do you do as a professional protester?’Craig’s questioning had improved a lot, being trained in the art of friendly interrogations.
‘I used to paint bomb the front gate, until I found out Doug, the security guard, was allergic to the stuff.Poor guy had an asthma attack just from being parked downwind.If the paint had touched his skin, I don’t know what would’ve happened.I completely freaked out when he told me he was a widower with a son to care for.While driving him to the hospital, I swore I’d nevereveruse paint in my protests again.’
‘So you and Doug are good now?’Craig continued the questioning, and Stone was happy to just listen, and play the good cop.
‘Sure.Doug tells me to piss off, and I tell him he’s a cannibal.It’s a hate-hate relationship where everyone’s happy.’Raven showed teeth in the most sarcastic smile that Stone struggled to keep a straight face.
‘Do you have much to do with the Rowntrees?’Craig asked.
‘Besides picketing their front gate?I know Malcolm hates me.I’m pretty sure he’d run me down in his truck on a deserted highway, then toss me in the back to feed his crocs.’
‘Malcolm may have his moods, but he wouldn’t do that to his crocs,’ said Stone.‘He’d tell you he’s picky about what he feeds them.’
‘Trust you to defend Malcolm, just like he’s always sticking up for you lot.’Raven shook her mop of dreadlocks.
‘That’s because I’m a full-time sweetheart and only a part-time crocodile wrangler.’His cheesy well-rehearsed line was enough to smooth out the wrinkles deepening across Raven’s forehead.
‘Go on, Raven,’ urged Craig.‘What about the rest of the Rowntree family?’
‘The kids ignore me.Celeste pops in now and again.’
‘For what?’
‘Celeste doesn’t mind the occasional cuppa.’Raven giggled as she jumped from her seat, reefed open the side door of her white van and climbed inside.‘Feel free to look inside to see if I’ve got any of those eggs.’
‘Go on.’Stone nodded at Craig.‘I’ll bet you a carton of beer Raven doesn’t have that crocodile stash.’
‘I’m not taking that bet.But I will look.Finn will ask if we did.’Craig removed his hat before he leaned inside the open van door.‘Hey, this is a nice set-up.’
