Something More Read Free Page B

Luke one time. Luke had just grinned and clamped a companionable hand on his back. “You’re right, Tobe,” he’d said. “Weeks like this one should have more Saturday nights in it.”
    Not that Saturday nights were all that exciting, considering there wasn’t much in the way of entertainment in Glory except for Ima Jane’s Rimrock Bar & Grill. In fact, life in this part of Wyoming tended to be pretty boring.
    At least it had been until this morning when Luke had discovered that body. It had to be the most exciting thing that had happened in the area in a hundred years. A body. An honest-to-God body. Not the half-gnawed bones of some animal. A body.
    Tobe stole another glance at Luke. It wasn’t like him to be this quiet. He decided it must have been the shock of finding himself eyeball to eye socket with that skull.
    â€œIt must have been kinda grisly looking,” Tobe blurted.
    â€œWhat?” Luke’s side glance held only blankness.
    â€œThe skull,” he replied as his imagination took off on a new track. “Was there still”—he searched for the right word—“meat on it?”
    â€œNope.” Casual as could be, Luke lifted the thermos cup to his mouth.
    â€œHow long do you suppose it takes for flesh to rot off the bones once a corpse has been buried?” Tobe wondered thoughtfully.
    â€œThe experts at the state crime lab could probably tell you,” Luke ventured.
    â€œMore than likely,” Tobe agreed. “And if they know that, then they can probably give a rough idea of when he got put in the ground, too.” He cocked his head to one side and frowned. “Who do you think it could be, Luke?”
    â€œSome guy wearing a 1938 class ring.” Luke shrugged and took another quick sip of lukewarm coffee between jolts of the bouncing pickup.
    â€œHow do you know for sure it was a guy?” Tobe challenged that assumption, warming to the thought of solving a mystery.
    â€œIt seems a safe bet,” Luke replied. “The ring was man sized.”
    â€œBut a girl wears a guy’s class ring when she’s going steady with him.” But Tobe wasn’t sure girls did that way back in 1938. “How did he die?”
    â€œI didn’t think to ask him,” Luke answered, grinning crookedly. “And as I recall, he wasn’t doing much talking.”
    â€œVery funny,” Tobe muttered, unamused. “I meant—was there a bullet hole in the skull? Or had it been bashed in?” he questioned, wishing he’d taken a closer look at it. “You know, if he was murdered—”
    â€œI think you’d better rein in that imagination of yours, Tobe,” Luke suggested dryly. “For all we know, the man could have died of natural causes.”
    The thought was clearly deflating. Tobe frowned over it for a minute. “But if he did, then how did he get buried out there?”
    Nodding, Luke released a puzzled sigh. “That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it? To my knowledge, there was never anyone buried on the Ten Bar in the last eighty years or so.”
    â€œSee, that’s just it,” Tobe declared, warming again to his mystery. “It isn’t logical for him to be buried out in the middle of the Ten Bar unless”—he paused for effect—“some kind of foul play was involved. Otherwise he’d be buried in a cemetery like everybody else.”
    The wipers slashed back and forth across the windshield, smearing the falling mist across the glass. Their rhythmic thwack-thwack temporarily filled the silence that followed Tobe’s remark.
    On the other side of the rise lay the headquarters of the Ten Bar Ranch, tucked back in a fold of the rocky hills. A creek made a wide swing around it before wandering off across the valley. The steady drizzle threw a gray veil over the collection of corrals and buildings. Only the century-old barn