Kent Baker is a loner who lacks an inner calm. He never knew his parents, never married, never owned a home, never, never, never... Now in his thirties, he's spent his professional life doing undercover work for the DEA, most recently on both sides of the Texas/Mexican border, a place where life is exceptionally cheap. He often found himself alone in perilous situations while attempting to stem the flow of the deadly drug trade that exists there. He is now on an mutually-agreed-to leave of absence from the agency. His bosses considered him a loose cannon, much too quick to get physical or draw down on perpetrators, while he thinks the head honchos have had their brains addled from sitting too long in a climate controlled environments. His immediate superior once told him he was acting as judge and jury in these encounters and asked him if he had a conscience. Baker replied he would rather be conscious than have a conscience. Yes, Baker has a short, smoldering fuse, especially as it pertains to decent, innocent folks getting maimed or killed. In Scavengers, he is asked by his best friend to look into the death of the friend's grandmother, a farm wife who has been killed by hogs. The authorities determined her death to be a horrible accident but an anonymous phone call to the grandson hints at something else, so he asks Kent to investigate and ease his mind. But to get to that elusive flash of closure Baker has to wade through a mystery involving an intimidating millionaire who likes kinky sex, an ambush by a man who wants to gut him, and the heartless machinations of a vicious extortionist who carries the disposition of a serial killer.