He ignored the old sheriff and stood, taking a few more steps forward and then, looking at the ground to the left, walked in that direction and then once again kneeled. Dog, taking it as an invitation, approached the Bear, who reached out and scratched the space between the beast’s ears. “I do not know if Jennifer or her dog are in there.” He glanced over the canyon edge where the flames had grown so high they licked the cooling air, almost as if the crust of the earth had opened up and swallowed the Chevrolet as a tidbit. The fire’s orange swirls tasted the air, and it looked like the flame was inside Henry’s eyes, lighting his face. “But the driver jumped out here.”

11

I don’t eat donuts.

The massive tow truck, designed to haul eighteen-wheelers, easily plucked the vehicle from the canyon and, dragging it from the edge, pulled it back a safe distance. We sipped coffee that the firefighters had brought, and Henry had a glazed with sprinkles as I excused myself from the group and carried my cup over to the van to look at the burned-out interior. It had achieved temperatures high enough to melt the metal.

Human skin burns at 248 degrees, but bones don’t burn so easily. Crematoriums use ovens approaching 2,000, but bone, containing approximately 60 percent inorganic, noncombustible matter, is capable of surviving even those temperatures. It is so tough that in modern-day crematoriums, after burning the body, the remains are ground in a process that reduces what’s left to granules similar to the dried bits in fertilizer.

According to Chaucer, murder will out—and in modern forensics it usually outs with bones.

One of the firefighters brought us fresh coffee and then raised a fist. “Save Jen!”

I raised a weary one back and then waited for him to retreat before asking Henry, “She wasn’t in there?”

The Bear, having retrieved the blanket from my truck to use as a cape, was looking particularly period, aside from the Styrofoam cup and the donut. “No.”

“Neither was the dog.”

“No.” He waited a moment and then took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and pronounced, “They landed about forty minutes ago.”

I turned and looked at him. “What?”

“Your family, they have arrived in Philadelphia, along with their bodyguard, who, to the best of my knowledge, has not killed anyone yet.” He looked thoughtful. “Evidently the undersheriff incurred a brief altercation with a captain of industry over the allotment of overhead storage space, but cooler heads prevailed and the stewardess awarded them first-class seats.”

I pulled out my pocket watch and looked at the delicate gold numerals that my grandfather had studied in his time. “Only ten minutes old and already a good day.” Pleased with the news, I repocketed my watch and stared at the van’s blackened shell, not really seeing it.

“What?”

I turned and looked at my friend. “Hmm?”

“What are you looking at?”

“In case it escaped your attention, the burned hulk in front of us.”

“No, that is where your eyes are directed, but what are you looking at?”

I smiled. I had been looking at the moon rising over the Powder River country and the clouds that piled up around it in the blackness with tinged edges dulled like an old coin. I smiled at his catching me. “I was thinking about what I was thinking. You know, asking myself about what I need to do? Where do I want to be right now?”

“Wonder.”

I sipped my coffee. “Excuse me?”

“Wonder. There is wonder in you, along with a little impatience. You are standing outside of yourself, looking at yourself, conscious of a rhythm within yourself, several rhythms, and the sound of drums from far away.”

I turned and stared at him. “How the hell do you know that?”

He took the last bite of his donut. “You think you are the only one who hears them?”

I took a deep breath and sighed. “Think we’re headed for something big?”

He laughed a smile. “That, or something big is headed for us.”

“Think we can take it?”

“We have taken it all up until now.” He shrugged. “But you need to be careful.”

“Of what?”

“Preparing for a battle yet to be fought while in the midst of another.”

“Play ’em one at a time, huh?” I smiled and shook my head, staring at the destroyed vehicle and finally seeing it. “Why would she want us to think that she was dead?”

The Bear gestured toward my truck, where the old sheriff was dead asleep. “Perhaps it is as Lucian says—she is attempting to avoid being drawn into the trial—or maybe it is something else.”

“Yep, but that’s not helping Dino-Dave, as near as I can tell.” I took a deep breath and then released it as an elongated and tortured sigh. “What something else?”

“I’d rather not say unless it is confirmed.” He licked his fingers and grinned. “So, I am thinking we should be heading over to the Lone Elk place to snoop around.”

“Without a warrant?”

“Everything has to be so proper with you.” He shook his head and sipped his coffee. “Beatus homo qui invenit sapientiam.”

I made a face. “Blessed is the man who invents wisdom?”

“Blessed is the man who finds wisdom.” He shook his head, dismissing me. “You always act as if you are the only one who cui from a classical education.”

 • • •

It wasn’t dark at the Lone Elk place; in fact, every light that could be on, was. The lights were glowing not only from both floors of the house but also from the barn and outbuildings. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to sneak in.”

He leaned forward. “No.”

Lucian rose up from the back and thrust his head between the seats, moving Dog to the side. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Go back to sleep.”

His head disappeared. “You’ll wake me if we get to shoot somebody?”

“I promise.”

“I don’t want to miss an opportunity.”

“You bet.” I pulled the truck into the drive and got half turned before the pack of border collie mixes surrounded the Bullet. I turned to Dog, figuring it was time to release the hound. “Don’t eat any of them, all right?”

He responded with a single wag, which was not completely convincing.

I opened my door and watched as the assembled canine mafia swarmed forward and barked. I opened the back door and watched as Dog bounded from the truck and looked at them. The half-dozen dogs froze at the sight of him. The one farthest away ducked its head and started off, but the others held fast just a bit longer as the beast turned his large-muzzled head and started toward them as if in a Jack London novel. This was too much for the pack, and they all widened the area around him. One barked, but Dog turned toward it and it joined the one on the far end in making a move for the porch. All the others, feeling their numerical advantage diminish, started backing away, quietly retreating.

Dog looked up at me.

“One police dog, one riot.”

Henry joined me from the front, and after I put Dog back in the truck, we started toward the house. I could hear a lot of shouting inside, and I was beginning to think that we’d stumbled into a domestic situation.

Before we got onto the porch, the front screen door flew open, and Randy limped out, pulling up to keep from running into us. “You found him?”

The Bear and I glanced at each other and then back at him. “Who?”

“Taylor!”

I glanced at Henry again, as he answered, “We saw him at the IGA this morning. He did not come home?”