Dead Man's Hand (Caden Chronicles, The) by Jones Eddie

Author:Jones, Eddie [Jones, Eddie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780310723899
Publisher: Zonderkidz
Published: 2012-10-22T13:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

GETTING THE LOWDOWN AT THE HOEDOWN

I returned my pony to its pen and tossed the helmet on the pile. Despite his promise, Marshal Buckleberry had thus far refused to let me inspect the crime scene. Now I’d take a look myself.

I found padlocks on both bay doors. I knew in a few minutes the cook would ring the dinner bell announcing the start of the night’s big hoedown at the outdoor pavilion. With luck Annie would be there. I needed to know where she was during the time of the murder. Plus, I sort of missed having her around.

The sky had a coppery pink hue to it. The mountain range cast long shadows across the meadow behind the barn. I knelt beside the padlocked door and inspected the ground. Tire tracks showed where the Charger had pulled away. A second set showed the tread pattern of a large farm tractor. The area around the back of the barn smelled of dusty burlap, diesel fuel, and sawdust. No discernable footprints in the grass or soft dirt leading away. No way in, either.

“Still looking for your ghost?” Wyatt Earp walked around the corner and pointed to tire tracks.

“Where’s your horse?” I asked, standing quickly. For a bumbling security guard, he exhibited a stealth-like ability to sneak up on people. “Marge, is it?”

“Good memory. Put her away for the night. Any luck finding your missing body?”

I wondered if he was fishing. His question seemed innocent enough, but after Deputy Garrett’s comments, I now had a new appreciation for the cunning of the elderly security guard.

I brushed dirt from my knees. “You named her after your wife. That’s why I was able to remember. And no, I haven’t found Billy the Kid’s body. But I will.”

“That’s good. For you, I mean, not Bill. Or the people of Deadwood. If it turns out you do uncover a murder, the press will be all over this place, asking questions, digging into people’s pasts. Could uncover some skeletons. Some folks wouldn’t like that.”

I was tempted to tell him I’d heard about his drinking but instead I said, “You have a key to Marshal Buckleberry’s office? Not the one on Main Street, but the trailer?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“The marshal said I could borrow his computer to access the Internet. I would ask him myself but he seems to be dodging me.”

“I don’t know. The marshal is kind of funny about his deputies being in his office when he’s not around. You may think he’s just a two-bit actor playing the part of an Old West peace officer, but he’s actually a pretty good lawman.”

“Won’t take but a few minutes. You can stand over my shoulder and watch.”

“Guess it’d be okay if it helps you solve your case. Young buck like you we need to keep occupied. Otherwise you might get into some real trouble.”

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