A Serpent's Tooth: A Walt Longmire Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

man.
    Passing my dispatcher’s desk with Dog in tow, I stopped for a moment to phone Double Tough and inform him that the great Mormon manhunt could be called off. As I stood there talking to him, Dog and I both heard some noise from down the hallway and turned to see the boy had fallen in his attempt to drag the chair along with him out the back door.
    “I gotta go.”
    I walked into the hallway, picked him up, and sat him back in the chair, then picked up the chair and walked him back into my office. I set the chair in its original location, called Dog, and told him to sit, which he did. “That is the K-9 unit of the Absaroka County Sheriff’s Department, and he’s trained to deal with any kind of situation. I can’t say what he might do, but I would advise you not to move. Is that clear?”
    He nodded. “Yes.”
    “Good.” I glanced at Dog, who I’m sure was wondering what the heck I was talking about. “Stay. And . . . Guard.”
    He canted his head, looking at me as if I were an idiot, which of course I was.
    The kid was looking at Dog as if the beast might go for his throat at any moment, which, of course, he wouldn’t, but a nod being as good as a wink in most cases, I turned and went down the steps and rifled through the grocery bags, finally coming up with a Denver Broncos T-shirt and, more important, a pair of gray sweatpants with a hole in only one knee.
    I’d started back up the stairs when I heard another commotion. I got to the first landing at the corner of the building near the front door in time to see Double Tough laying hands on both boy and furniture.
    The solid deputy turned with a comical look on his face as he sat the young man in the chair. “I guess you can add theft of municipal property to his list of offenses.”
    I joined the group—Dog was standing there wagging. “Some guard dog you are.”
    We carried the prisoner and chair back to my office, where I uncuffed him and led him to the bathroom in the hall, the one without a window, handed him the clothes, and nudged him inside as I closed the door behind him. “Get dressed.”
    Producing a plastic bag of oatmeal cookies, Double Tough crossed his scuffed ropers, leaned against the wall, and smirked at me. “Have a cookie.” I did, as he studied me. “Call up Health Services?”
    I thought about it. “Not at midnight. I’ll just wait until morning and then give Nancy Griffith another ring.”
    He waited a moment. “You want, I can stick around up here. There’s nothing going on down at the Junction, and Frymire’s girlfriend is visiting him.”
    “I thought he married her.”
    “Not yet.” He chewed his cookie.
    “There’s no need, I’ll just stick around.” I noticed the crestfallen look on his face. “Unless you really want to stay up here.” I waited for a moment. “Things getting pastoral down there in Powder Junction?”
    “Uh-huh, other than some yokels driving around over near the East Spring Draw and being unneighborly.” He judged the look on my face. “Nothing big; new owners, and they’re a strange bunch—Texans.” He glanced behind him at the bathroom. “You gonna put him in the holding cell for the night?”
    “Yep.”
    He stretched and yawned, covering his face with his hand. “You better lock the door.”
    •   •   •
    He stared at the open cell and then up at me, and I was struck by how young the kid looked; I was estimating his age at fifteen, but he might’ve been younger. “You’re not trustworthy, or I’d let you sleep out here on the bench in the waiting room.” I gestured for him to go in. “Anyway, the bunks are a lot more comfortable; I should know.”
    He strung his fingers around the bars of the open door. “What if I promise?”
    “Excuse me?”
    He stared at my chest. “What if I promise to not run off?”
    “Well, considering your track record, I don’t know you well enough to trust you.”
    He thought about it for a second, and then the words poured from