Read Bone Dry (Blanco County Mysteries) for Free Online

saw it.”
     
    “But you’re the one who drew the freakin’ map!”
     
    “Oh yeah.”
     
    “I have to tell ya, I’m impressed, though. I didn’t even know you could operate a pencil without an owner’s manual.”
     
    Billy Don gave Red a harsh glare—kind of a cross-eyed grimace that appeared when he was particularly angry—and Red knew he was walking on thin ice. Billy Don was a three-hundred-pound brute, and Red decided he’d better ease up.
     
    “Well, I’ll see what I can do about keeping our jobs. Just leave the talkin’ to me.”
     
    As Red turned into the gate at Emmett Slaton’s ranch, a late-model Lincoln coming the other way barreled through beside him, blasting its horn. Red caught a glimpse of the driver as it passed by. “Hell’s bells, what’s wrong with that guy?” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “You know, that looked like that Eye-talian who tried to hire us last week.”
     
    “Wonder if his offer is still good?” Billy Don whimpered.
     
    Red hissed: “You can go to work for a wop if you want, Billy Don, but not me. Besides, somethin’ didn’t feel right.”
     
    The man had called Red on the phone, offering an employment deal that included complicated incentives and escalating per-acre commissions. You could make a coupla g’s a week if you work hard enough, the man had said. Red wasn’t sure what a “g” was, but he had pulled a few fast ones in his time and he thought it sounded like a scam. He said thanks but no thanks, he was sticking with Slaton.
     
    Red parked the truck and the Doberman bounded off the porch, howling at the visitors.
     
    “Hey there, Patton,” Red said, and the dog wagged its docked tail. “Look what we got here.” Red pulled a piece of beef jerky from his pocket and Patton gently took it from his hand. “You’re just a big ol’ pansy, ain’t ya? Where’s your daddy at?”
     
    As if he understood, the dog ran to the front door and barked.
     
    Emmett Slaton opened the door and ushered the men into his den. “What brings you out here this time of day, boys? You done with the Leaning X already?”
     
    Red held his hat in his hand and told the full story, waiting for Slaton to get angry, tell them they were both idiots. But Slaton didn’t get mad, and actually seemed distracted, as if he were hardly listening.
     
    When Red was finished, Slaton simply nodded. Then he pulled a large handgun out of a drawer and laid it on his desk. “Either of you ever shot a forty-five? I want to sight this in, but my eyes ain’t quite what they used to be.”
     
    Red was startled. “What about the Leaning X, sir? Ain’t you gonna fire us?”
     
    “Aw, hell, son, I would never fire you for that. Besides, you wasted your time, not mine. Now help me sight this gun in.”
     
    Red stared down at the weapon. “Somethin’ got you worried, Mr. Slaton?”
     
    The rancher shrugged. “Aw, not really, son. But a man can’t be too careful these days.”
     
    Sunday evening, a cold front moved southward into Blanco County, bringing half an inch of much-needed rain, harsh winds, and a twenty-degree drop in temperature. John Marlin was glad to see it. The first week of deer season was always his busiest, and the nasty weather would help put a damper on poaching activities around the county.
     
    He received only one call that evening. Just after sundown, a hunter on a day lease had struck an axis deer with his truck. The landowner was furious, claiming the hunter owed him two thousand dollars for the imported exotic buck. The hunter didn’t see it that way, and wanted the landowner to pay for the damages to his Chevy. Marlin knew the law, and sided with neither of them.
     
    Over the phone, he told them the hunter wasn’t liable for the cost of the deer and the landowner wasn’t liable for the damages to the truck. They each had to take their own lumps. That seemed to satisfy them both, and Marlin hung up, grateful he didn’t have to brave the