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“All right, you ass,” Casey snarled, ready for a fight. “Get the fuck out of my way.”
The donkey didn’t get the fuck out of his way. It just kept standing there, blocking the gate.
“Shit.” With a growl, Casey pushed the gate against the donkey. The donkey still didn’t budge. “Fucking rural areas. Anderson, you see this?”
From her spot further down the fence line, Anderson laughed. “Yep. We still need to get into the paddock, though.”
“I’m trying! This bastard just won’t get out of my way.”
Apparently deciding to take mercy on him, Anderson turned and headed back. “What do you expect from an ass, Casey?
“Funny. I beat you to that one already, though.”
“That’s how I know you’re getting really frustrated.” Smiling, Anderson patted Casey on the arm, then turned her attention to the donkey. “Hi there. We can’t get in to investigate our murder if you don’t back up. Go on, now. Hoof it.”
The donkey didn’t hoof it.
Casey snorted. “Maybe if you show it the badge and say it’s impeding a federal investigation, it’ll listen.”
The donkey raised its head, opening its mouth to reveal a lot of teeth. It started making a godawful sound, loud enough that Casey startled and swore.
“Hee-haw!” Anderson echoed cheerfully. She reached over the fence and patted the bridge of the donkey’s nose when it quit braying. “Aww, she’s cute.”
“She’s loud,” Casey muttered, pressing a hand to his head. “Gives me a headache.”
“Everything gives you a headache, Casey.”
“Cities don’t. Rain doesn’t. All this fucking sky and these fucking animals, on the other hand…”
“Okay, okay.” Chuckling, Anderson patted him on the arm again. “We do need to get into there. Hang on a moment.”
Anderson went eerily still, her eyes going distant as all her attention bent towards the donkey. Her profiling methods might be unorthodox—some might say weird—but Casey was used to it by now. He just kept watch while she was out of it, and made sure the donkey didn’t try to eat her sweater or something.
“Okay,” Anderson finally said. “There’s treats in that trash can over there. Can you grab some?”
“From the trash can?”
“It’s not actually for trash, just an easy lidded container to store stuff in. There’s also a bag of grain in there and some electrolytes.”
“Mhm. It’s no wonder people think you’re spooky,” Casey said, opening the trash can. As expected, there was a bag of treats. He took the bag out. “So, lure the donkey away from the gate with the treats?”
“Yeah. But, Casey? Make sure you keep your hand flat while doing it.” Anderson demonstrated with her own hand. “This young lady likes to chomp people’s fingers if they’re not careful.”
“Fucking great.” Casey followed her advice, placing the treat on his palm and sticking his arm over the fence.
The donkey came over immediately and shoved a soft, whiskered nose into his hand. Gently, she took the treat and chomped on it. Casey fed her another treat.
He was kind of enjoying this. The thought appalled him. He was made for the city, not for feeding treats to a goddamn donkey. But he was enjoying it.
“Okay, Casey!” Anderson called. She jogged over and patted the donkey’s neck. “I’ll keep her occupied while you come in. Make sure you close the gate.”
“Mm. Got it.” Almost reluctantly, Casey put the treats back in the trash can, then joined Anderson in the paddock. He made sure he closed the gate. “So, how do we stop the donkey from trampling the crime scene? Or the body, for that matter?”
“Well, she’s been in here all night with the body. If she wanted to do any trampling, she’s had plenty of chances to do it.” Anderson smiled, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “Why don’t you pet her while I take a look, though?”
“You’re being mean again, Anderson.”
Protests aside, Casey didn’t actually mind. Petting the donkey was surprisingly fun. Especially because she kept shoving her nose into his hand, and her nose was soft. He stroked it and smiled a little.
Working cases in rural areas was always a nightmare. Too much sky, too much nature, and weird animal encounters. But at least this animal encounter had turned out better than he’d expected.