Dark Sky by C. J. Box

Author:C. J. Box [Box, C. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780525538271
Amazon: B08BKTNP9X
Goodreads: 54308308
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Published: 2021-03-02T06:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

Thousands of feet below on the valley floor, Nate Romanowski downshifted and grabbed a gear so he could muscle the old truck up a steep embankment on a slick dirt road that climbed west into the foothills. He was driving on County Road 189, which was also known as Spring Creek Road because it hugged the contours of the creek to where it originated in the mountains. The snow had started an hour before and the Bighorns behind him were encased in dark clouds. It looked like a serious storm up there, he thought. Snow had just begun to stick within the gnarled twists of sagebrush around him, making the landscape look like a cotton field.

He’d traded the Yarak, Inc. van for a vintage 1948 Dodge Power Wagon that he’d purchased at an estate auction the previous spring. He’d always wanted one because ranchers he’d grown up around extolled its virtues and they considered it the greatest working vehicle ever made. A version of the three-quarter-ton 4×4 had been first used in World War II, and afterward rural ex-GIs wanted a truck at home in the mountains as tough as the one they’d had in Europe. That original 94-horse, 230-cubic-inch flathead six wouldn’t win any races, but it could grind through the snow and mud, over logs, through the brush and willows. This one had been lovingly restored and included big knobby tires, high clearance, and a winch welded on the front. It had a toothy front grille and a split windshield with two headlamps mounted on high, wide fenders. In low light, they looked like dead eyes. Blooms of black smoke huffed through the tailpipe. From a distance, he thought, he’d be mistaken for some ancient set-in-his-ways rancher puttering up the road to the Twelve Sleep Senior Center before the afternoon lunch buffet closed down.

His .454 Casull was coiled in its holster on the cracked leather seat next to him.

It was the perfect vehicle, he thought, for making a personal call on a falcon smuggler and rearranging the man’s face and his future plans in the area.

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