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This silence feels more like the crackling ozone in the air right before a mother of a storm splits the sky in two.
Which is why we’re back in Ursa today.
Inside the old saloon.
Standing over that fucking body, side to side with our hands on our hips, trying to figure out what to do with him.
I cock my head to the left.
She tilts hers to the right.
Then she says, “Um, I hear if you put bones in lye—”
“Libby, no!” I can’t help a tired laugh, dragging a hand over my face. “Look, buying enough lye to dissolve human bones is gonna leave a paper trail. The easiest way to do it without being noticed is through a purchase order with my company. Trouble is…paying for stuff in bulk leaves a cash trail even when you try to do it through back channels. You don’t want to leave evidence? No lye.”
“Oh, fine. Don’t think I could dissolve a dead guy into nothing anyway. I don’t have it in me.” She sighs, folding her arms over her chest. “Jesus, I just want him gone.”
“I don’t know. I still think there’s a story to tell, if we can figure out what went wrong here.” I stroke my fingers through my beard, frowning. “Leave him be. Blake’s gonna be here soon, anyway.”
Libby grimaces. “You’re sure it’s a good idea to have them out here?”
“If we want Blake’s help, yeah. Andrea and Clark are an unfortunate baggage to make it look like an ordinary family outing. Plus, the more he sees it, the more he can pull some answers out of the ether with his boys.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not them I’m worried about. The kids might talk.”
“Not if we don’t talk too much in front of them.” I shrug. “Andrea already knows too much, anyway. Trust me, she’s a good kid. She knows when to keep her mouth shut.”
“I’ll have to trust you on that. But we keep the kids out of the saloon, okay?”
“Agreed,” I say, then lift my head as I hear clopping hooves and Blake shouting. “We’ve got company.”
Libby looks less than pleased.
She’s had a puzzled scowl on her face ever since we rode out this morning.
I guess she’s thinking about her old man again and this mess he left her.
But she tosses me a faint smile anyway, and we turn to push through the saloon’s swinging doors, where Frost and Plath wait patiently by the hitching post.
We get treated to the sight of Blake and the kids riding in on horseback.
Naturally, my brother looks like he’s forgotten how to ride, shifting his ass from side to side in the saddle of a big stocky gelding who just plods on patiently while Blake squirms, clutching the reins every few steps like he’s about to fall.
The teenagers look fine, though, perched on two leggy young mares who could be twins.
Andrea and Clark lean over their saddles, murmuring to each other.
I think somebody’s in love.
And Blake’s probably mighty pissed about it.
As they pull up and Blake swings down with a wince, I can’t help a bit of real concern.
“Hey,” I say. “Your leg holding out okay, man?”
“Yeah. You’d be surprised what this old boy can handle now that I’m hitched to a massage therapist.” He thumps his thigh.
I nod. He’s got an old war injury there, one that used to plague him pretty bad before his miracle of a wife got through to him about regular therapy.
“Mostly just a pain in my ass. Don’t have the saddle skills to hold up well anymore.” He grins, holding his hand out to Libby. “Hey, Libs.”
“Blake,” she says dryly and reaches out to shake his hand. “I’m just glad you weren’t on my horses with how you were riding.”
“Nah, borrowed these guys from the Carters. Put out a grease fire at their place a month or two back, so they owed me one. They said it’d be good to let the horses get out and stretch their legs. No way we were driving up through all that brush.” He whistles softly then, letting his hand drop and turning around slowly to take in the town. “So this is it, huh? Looks like a set from one of those old Wild West films. Perfectly preserved, almost.”
“It’s eerie,” I say. “You’d think weather and wild animals should’ve done the whole place up, even if nobody knew it was here to loot.”
“Nah, see?” Blake lifts a hand, pointing at the mountaintops and bluffs ringing the little depression where the town sits. “Got a lot of overhangs here. These high cliff walls…the whole place would miss the worst of it. Winds, snows, storms. Pretty arid, too. Creek bed looks dried up, no wind means no seeds dispersing down here, so not much in the way of grass or trees to attract herbivores, so nothing that eats them, either.” He shrugs. “It’s like a time capsule, and we just dug it up.”
