C. J. Box_Joe Pickett_04 by Trophy Hunt

Author:Trophy Hunt
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Murder, Mystery & Detective, Wyoming, Political, Fiction, Pickett, Game Wardens, Thrillers, Suspense, Mystery Fiction, General, Joe (Fictitious Character)
ISBN: 9780425202937
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2004-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

the fall Ive already moved down to Texas. And especially this year, with all of the supernatural crap thats been happening around here, I had plenty of reason to leave early. But I wouldnt leave without my horses, and my goddamned unreliable horse hauler got waylaid up in Alberta somewhere. He should be here any day, and when he comes, brother, Im out of here. Ill leave the aliens to the locals, baby.

We thank you for that, Joe said, deadpan.

I was thinking of selling the place anyway, you know? Moving back and forth to Texas with my minis is getting to be a drag. I might look for somewhere in New Mexico or Arizona, where it doesnt get so damned cold, you know? And where it isnt spooked. Problem is Im not sure I could sell the place for what Ive got into it, you know? I hear land prices are in the toilet, thanks to whats going on. I went to list the place at Logue Country Realty and the realtor there said appraisals are coming in at 20 percent lower than what they should be. Fire-sale prices, damn it.

Joe kept quiet. Thompson didnt seem to need a response in order to keep talking.

When I saw that crop circle I thought to myself, why me? Why now? Why my ranch? But now when I hear that there was another mutilation last night, it all seems to make sense, Thompson said, talking fast. Do you think its all related?

I dont know, Joe said.

Thompson shot Joe a perturbed look. Arent you on the task force?

Yes.

Arent you intrigued by my discovery, then?

Joe shrugged. I dont know yet whether Im intrigued. I havent seen it.

Well, its just over this hill.

They cleared the hill and Joe stopped his truck. Voilr! Thompson said, sweeping his hand as if presenting what was behind door number three. Joe looked. Below them, on a sagebrush flat, was a perfect circle cut

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