Fisher needed to be thinking about that at the moment, and it was too soon to know what weâd find. One thing I absolutely believed though, was that Levi Fisher had done none of this on purpose. He was a sturdy man, and right now he looked like a stiff breeze could knock him over, and maybe he wouldnât care to get up again.
âYouse will check on all my customers? With the list in mynotebook? Make sure theyâre all right?â Levi looked at Glen, as if asking man to man.
âWeâll track down anyone who might have had access to your milk,â Glen assured him. âGet them help if they need it. Thatâs our job.â
âThank the Lord. Please, God, let no one else die.â Levi put his elbows on the table, folded his hands, and began to pray.
â
By the time we were done interviewing Levi Fisher, the CDC medics were at the door wanting to take blood samples. I left them to it and headed back outside. It wasnât that I was squeamish at the sight of blood, but crying children were another matter. I was already heartsick enough today. Out near the barn I found the vet packing up his truck.
âIs this sickness fatal? For the cows, I mean?â I asked him.
He gave me a quick once-over. âHi. Are you with the CDC?â
I inwardly chided myself for my impatience. As a cop with the NYPD, we rarely did things like introduce ourselves. But what was normal there was considered rudeness here. âNo, sorry. Lancaster Police. Iâm Detective Harris.â
âAh.â The vetâs expression didnât relax. If anything, he grew tenser. âWhat was your question again?â
âI was asking if these cows will dieâand if tremetol is always fatal for cows or if it depends on how much they consume?â
âHum.â He stripped off the gloves he was wearing and tossedthem in a receptacle in the truck. âIâm not sure. I suspect the two worst-off ones here wonât make it. But I gave them all a strong dose of sodium bicarbonate and vitamins, so the rest may recover.â
The vet was in his early thirties, overweight, and a bit geeky. It was clear heâd never been an attractive man, but he was confident and aloof.
âYouâre Doctor . . .â I prompted.
âDr. Richmond.â He didnât offer his hand. Then again, that could be because heâd just been tending some very sick animals, latex gloves or no.
âAre you familiar with this problem, Dr. Richmond? Tremetol poisoning caused by cattle eating white snakeroot?â
He shrugged. âI wouldnât say âfamiliar withâ it exactly. Iâve never seen it myself, but we read about it in vet school. In cows itâs called âthe tremblesâ or âthe slows,â because the stiff muscles affect the animalâs gait. And itâs not just white snakeroot. Certain species of goldenrod contain tremetol too. Itâs more of a problem in the southwest I think.â
âSo youâve never seen it around here?â I pressed.
âNope,â Richmond said briskly. âNot until today.â
âI guess other animals, like horses or goats, would get sick if they ate the plant too, right?â
âSure. And before you ask, no, Iâve never seen any animal sick like that around here.â
It suddenly occurred to me that we should be talking to local vetsânot just this one, but all of them. They might know of cases the police and the CDC had missed. Plus . . . An ideaniggled. Not many people would know about white snakeroot and what it could do. But vets would. I looked at Dr. Richmond more closely.
He must have seen something on my face, because he shifted uneasily and rubbed his jaw with his thumb. âI . . . saw the press conference this morning. About the raw-milk ban.â
âYes?â
He narrowed his eyes and looked off toward the pasture. âThatâs really going
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