Julie R. Neidlinger: Lone Prairie Blog

Blogathon 2006: Chapter 37.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 1 comments link this post

A noise down at Zane's Livery broke through the unnatural silence; the old man, his thick mustach waving in the wind, came running from behind the barn and waved Dove down.

"Quickly, Mr. Dove, come quickly!" he cried. "It's Luke!"

Dove had been in this place before, the domino of death, one after another, cascading down until the moment he put a stop to it by drilling a hole or two in the last domino, the one that had started it all.

Luke was dead. He'd been shot out in the back pasture, his body wedged under a rock, hidden from view.

"How long's he been missing?" Dove asked. He now saw how important Luke had been to Zane.

"He sometimes goes off on his own, so I din't stop to think anything might be wrong after he'd been gone over a week." Zane looked away from the rotting body. "I let the horses out in this back pasture and the seemed jumpy over at this corner."

Dove leaned in. He'd seen a dead body or two in his time, but Luke was so well percolated under the hot sun that even the maggots were getting sick.

"What's he got in his hand?" Dove asked.

Zane held his nose and nudged Luke's hand with his foot. "Looks like a fist full of dollars."

Dove wrinkled his nose. That was odd. That's not what he'd expected a dead man's hand to be; he'd imagined more spades. Especially if Solitaire were involved.

"There enough in his hand to buy a pine box?"

"Looks like."

"Then get to it. This sun's not doing us or what's left of Luke any favors."

Zane trudged away, his back slumped. Dove untied the cords on his holsters and set his mind on lead.

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Labels: blogathon