Dry Bones: A Walt Longmire Mystery by Craig Johnson

Author:Craig Johnson [Johnson, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Westerns, United States, Native American, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Mystery
Amazon: B00O2BS744
Publisher: Viking
Published: 2015-05-12T05:00:00+00:00

9

“You know . . .” Bob opened the ziplock bag and sniffed. “I think I’ve been had.”

“Good thing it was a free sample.”

There was a break in the series of cloudbursts that were marking the day, and Robert got out and joined his partner. We all began walking toward my office. “You can leave your potpourri in the squad car, and then we can burn it if it gets cold—frontiersmen used to do that with buffalo chips back in the old days.”

There was a large black Lincoln parked at the curb behind the other Lola, Henry’s Baltic-blue ’59 Thunderbird convertible, and I wasn’t the only one to notice the state plates as we drew near. Bob closed up his bag and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. “Uh oh.”

As we got closer, the tinted back window whirred, and Joe Meyer called out to me merrily, “Where the heck is the sheriff of this damn county, anyway?”

“He was in Montana.” I straddled a puddle on the sidewalk and, leaning down, could see two large young men in the front and the elderly statesman seated in the back with a pile of folders in his lap. “What, you brought your homework with you?”

He adjusted his glasses, followed by a helpless gesture, and looked at the piles of paper. “Don’t ever let them talk you into being an attorney general, Walt.”

“I never wanted to be an attorney, let alone the guy who leads them into battle.”

He laughed and looked past me at the two men on the sidewalk. “My goodness, it’s the Bobs.” He leaned forward. “I’ve got two of your younger and less experienced cohorts in here; is there any way I could get you to assist them in exploring the culinary splendor of the Busy Bee Café?”

Robert looked at his partner. “What do you say, Bob?”

The other highway patrolman leaned in. “Are they buying?”

The Wyoming AG nodded his head. “Sure, lunch is on the state.” I started to straighten when he said quietly, “Can we talk?”

“You bet.” As Joe’s watchdogs joined their fellow troopers on the sidewalk, I glanced at the thunderheads gathering in the sky again, cracked open the door of the Town Car, and slid into his mobile office. I pulled the door closed behind me and turned to look at him. “Joe, my son-in-law died on duty last night in Philadelphia, so I am in a horrible mood and looking to take it out on somebody. I just thought you should be aware of that fact before we start this conversation.”

“Walt.” He folded up the papers. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss.” Giving me his undivided attention, he put the documents aside. “How’s Cady?”

“She had just gotten here with the baby. She’s distraught but doing as well as can be expected, I guess.”

He nodded and patted the folders and looked out his own window. “Well, that pretty much takes the wind out of my sails. I came up here to read you the riot act, but now that just doesn’t seem appropriate.

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