Plains Crazy Read Online Free PDF Page B

out.”
    The guy was going to be tougher to break than Wynn had expected. “Where were you when the kid was killed?”
    â€œVisiting my grandfather,” the old man said. “It was a good visit. I did not like to come back.”
    Just how many real Cheyenne were here? And if this old guy was with his grandfather, the grandfather must be a truly ancient character.
    â€œAnd he can confirm that?” Wynn prepared to jot the information in his notebook.
    â€œYes.” The old man turned at last to face the deputy. He had features that belonged on an old nickel, scarred and weathered.
    â€œWhere can I find him?”
    â€œWhere I left him.”
    This was getting annoying. “And that would be?”
    â€œBeyond the Milky Way,” the Cheyenne said. He wasn’t smiling and neither was Wynn. “My grandfather, you see, he was murdered by Custer and his men on the Washita. In 1868. Guess he was more like a great-great-grandfather, as you reckon it.”
    Wynn’s jaw dropped, ready for fly trapping.
    â€œI’ll go have some coffee now,” the Indian said, “while you confirm my alibi.”
    â€œHow?”
    Old man Stone paused and finally looked Wynn straight in the eyes. He raised his right hand. “How yourself,” he said, and turned and walked away.
    ***
    Judy was packed and ready to leave in less than an hour. She filled a suitcase for Englishman too, though she didn’t think he’d be going with her. She took their luggage downstairs to the living room and set everything by the door. She put Englishman’s passport on the end table beside his bag. Her own went into her fanny pack along with her billfold and checkbook and flight confirmations. She wasn’t letting any of that out of her possession in the hours before her departure.
    She had put on jeans and a purple K-State tee shirt. The outfit she would wear on the plane was laid out up on the bed, along with Englishman’s single pair of dress slacks, his best shirt, and his only presentable sports coat. Changing wouldn’t take long.
    Judy let herself out the door and was overwhelmed by a blend of rich aromas thick enough to cut and sweet enough to cause weight gain. The flower beds she’d spent years establishing in their otherwise dull yard were going insane this spring.
    She wheeled her bicycle off the porch, down the walk, and out the front gate. She closed it behind her without thinking, even though they had reluctantly said farewell to the dog it was meant to contain months ago. Tears came as she realized what she’d done, along with a fresh tightening in her chest. She mounted the bike and pumped off, angry about letting her emotions surface so easily. She was going to be tough, she’d promised herself. This wasn’t a good start.
    She was getting used to doing without their station wagon most of the time. Things were tight with two daughters in their first year of college. They’d kept tuition to a minimum by sending the girls to the junior college in Hutchinson, but the combined incomes of a rural sheriff and the local school vice principal weren’t enough to run a third car. Englishman used the departmental black and white when he could so she would have access to his truck, but that was mostly when he was the only officer on duty. They had decided the girls needed her Taurus more than she did, not only to get to and from Hutch, but to get around in such a big city. There were at least 40,000 people in Hutchinson. Buffalo Springs High was only a couple of blocks from the English household. Hell, the whole municipality was within a mile of where their house stood near the east edge of town. Bicycling and walking were useful tools for a middle-aged woman working hard to continue looking younger than her driver’s license claimed.
    She could have taken the station wagon this morning. She’d heard the girls come in late last night. Like most teenagers,