Dry Bones: A Walt Longmire Mystery by Craig Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

this?”
    “I don’t know.”
    I glanced up at Vic, who rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s going to start getting complicated now that the feds are involved.”
    Lolo studied me. “Did you call them?”
    “No.”
    “Then who did?”
    Vic smiled. “Skip.”

3
    “What do you mean you can’t pick us up in Billings?”
    Glancing around the reception area at my assembled staff as we took on our greatest challenge at the end-of-the-day coffee klatch, I sighed through the telephone line in an attempt to get out of trouble with the Greatest Legal Mind of Our Time. “There’s a big mess going on among the Cheyenne, the High Plains Dinosaur Museum, and the federal government, and I’m betting I won’t be able to get free tomorrow. The acting deputy U.S. attorney is going to be here, and then I’ll know more.”
    “
Acting
deputy U.S. attorney—what the hell does that mean?”
    “I don’t know; I guess it means he
acts
like a deputy attorney or something.” I hugged the phone in for a little privacy. “Can’t you fly into Sheridan?”
    “I’m traveling with a five-month-old, and they don’t have a leather helmet and goggles to fit her.” There was a pause. “Have you ever traveled with a five-month-old?”
    The second time I’d been asked that today—I tried to remember if I ever had. “I think your mother did; I was just ground support.”
    “Did you get the Pack ’n Play and the car seat?”
    I lied. “Yep.”
    “You’re lying.”
    Uncanny. “As fast as Dog can trot.”
    “If you can’t borrow them, then get them over in Sheridan when you come to pick us up.”
    “So, you are flying into Sheridan. Why don’t you rent a car?” The phone went dead in my hand as I handed it back to my dispatcher and my guideline for all things domestic. “What’s a Pack ’n Play?”
    Ruby looked at Saizarbitoria, who seemed to have an innate ability to describe child-rearing accoutrements in terms I could understand. “Portable solitary confinement.”
    “Ahh . . .” I smiled, pressing the joke. “And the car seat?”
    “It’s a seat. That goes in your car,” the Basquo grunted. “I’ve got all that stuff.”
    Ruby hung up the phone. “Walt, you can borrow them, but I’m thinking you should buy; this is not the only time they’re going to be here—that is, if you don’t keep royally messing things up.”
    I glanced at Lucian, who sometimes showed up at these unofficial end-of-the-day meets, and then the rest of my staff. “Everybody seems to think that, huh?”
    They all nodded, but Lucian was the first to speak. “You’re not off to a good start, troop.”
    Vic laughed. “Like you’re a knowledgeable source.”
    I cupped my chin in my palm and postulated as I looked at the previous sheriff of Absaroka County. “I’m trying to remember what five-month-olds are like; what they can do.”
    Lucian mumbled. “They shit a lot.”
    Vic bumped him with her shoulder. “When was the last time you even held a baby—the Eisenhower administration?”
    Ruby agreed. “You’re going to need diapers.”
    “Is there a service in town?”
    “They don’t do that anymore; they’re disposable.” She glanced at Saizarbitoria again. “But I’m betting Sancho is our go-to guy on all of this.”
    He rolled his shoulders. “Like I said, we’ve got all that stuff and you’re welcome to it, but you might be better off to buy all new. Anthony’s over a year old and escapes from everything like a miniature Houdini, but we still use some of it.” He smiled. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you, Grandpa.” He thought about it. “At five months they can sit up, scoot, roll, and maybe crawl a little.”
    “Can they talk?”
    “Babble, mostly—kind of like a bad drunk.”
    Ruby smiled. “As I recall, Cady talked early.”
    “Yep, and she’s never stopped.”
    Double Tough ventured an opinion. “You’re going to need a high chair.”
    We all turned to look at him.
    He adjusted his eye patch,