trees with rolls of the plastic band reading crime scene crime scene crime scene while Barnum tried in vain to maintain radio contact. Joe wondered how much evidence they were crushing or disturbing as they wound the plastic through the timber. He mentioned this to Barnum, but Barnum was busy trying to contact the Sheriffs Department dispatcher via his radio and just waved him off.
'We started with an explosion called in by the fire lookout and now we've got us a full-fledged murder investigation,' Barnum growled into his handheld between ferocious bouts of static. 'We need state forensics as fast as they can get here and we'll need the coroner and a photographer out here at dawn. We can't see a goddamn thing.'
'Come again?' the dispatcher asked through more static.
'She can't hear a word I'm saying,' Barnum declared angrily
'Why don't you wait and try her again from the radio in the Blazer?' McLanahan asked. Joe was thinking the same thing.
Barnum cursed and holstered his radio. 'I need to take a leak and then let's get out of here.' Barnum turned and limped away into the dark brush.
Joe tied off the tape on a tree trunk sticky with pine sap and took his flashlight from where he had been holding it steady under his arm. He slimed it on his boots. They were slick with blood.
'Jesus Christ!' Barnum yelled from the darkness. 'We've got a body or at least half of one. It's a girl. A woman, I mean.'
'Which half?' McLanahan asked stupidly
'Shut the fuck up.' Barnum answered bluntly
Joe didn't want to look. He had seen enough for one night. The fact that Barnum was coming toward him, limping as quickly as he could around the crime scene tape, didn't even register with Joe until Barnum stopped two feet in front of him and waved his finger in Joe's face. Joe couldn't tell if the sheriff was really angry or he was watching another display of Barnum's famous bluster. Either way being this close reminded Joe of how formidable Barnum still was, even after twenty six years as Twelve Sleep County sheriff.
'Why is it, Game Warden Pickett, that we rarely if ever have any trouble in my county' the sheriffs voice rising as he spoke, 'but every goddamned time we find dead bodies strewn about you seem to be standing there in the middle of them?'
Joe was taken aback by Barnum's sudden outrage. It was now obvious to Joe that Barnum had been harboring resentment for quite some time because Joe had solved the outfitter murders. Joe could not come up with a good response. He felt his cheeks flush red in the dark.
'Sheriff, you called me to the scene, remember?'
Barnum sneered. 'But I thought we had a bunch of dead elk.'
Abruptly Barnum turned and began to limp in the direction of his Blazer. McLanahan dutifully fell in behind him after giving Joe a look of superior satisfaction. Joe wondered just what it was he had done to arouse Barnum. He guessed it was exactly what Barnum had said: that he was there was enough. The new game warden, two years in the Saddlestring District, still wet behind the ears, who was now right square in the middle of another homicide. Or suicide. Or something.
There had been few violent deaths in Twelve Sleep County in the past two years aside from the outfitter murders. The only one of note was the rancher's wife who killed her husband by burying a hay hook into his skull, straight through his Stetson, pinning his hat to his head. In one version of the story that Joe had heard, the wife had gone home after the incident, mixed herself a pitcher of vodka martinis, and then called the sheriff to turn herself in. The pitcher was nearly empty when they arrived a short time later.
Before following the sheriff and his deputy, Joe stood quietly in the dark. He could hear the rest of the herd of cows grazing closer to the crater. In the distance, a squirrel chirred a message. The wildlife was cautiously moving back in. But there was something else.
A tremor quickly ran the length of his spine, and he felt the hairs prick on his forearms and neck. He looked straight up at the cold stars, then swept his eyes through the black pine branches. He knew that the fire lookout station was out of range. The black humps of the Bighorn Mountains did not show a single twinkling light of a cabin or a headlight. So why did he feel like someone or something was there with him, watching him?
Driving back on the interstate toward Saddlestring, Joe watched the little screen on his cell phone until it indicated he was finally receiving a signal. As he had guessed, Marybeth was still awake and waiting to hear from him. He gave her a quick summary of what they had found.
She asked if the victim was someone local.
'We have no idea,' Joe said. 'At this point we don't even know if we've got one body or two. Or more.'
She was silent for a long time.
'A cow exploded?' she finally asked, incredulous.
'That's what it looks like.'
'So now we've got exploding cows to worry about?'
'Yup,' Joe said, his voice gently teasing. 'As if there weren't enough things to worry about with three little girls, now we need to keep them away from cows. And they're everywhere, those cows. In all of the fields and in all of the pastures. It's like there are ten thousand ticking time bombs all around us just waiting to explode.'
She told him he was not very funny
'It's been a bad night,' he said. 'Barnum asked me to notify the rancher who owns the cows tomorrow, which I'll do. He said that beyond that, he really doesn't need my help on the investigation. Hell, he was upset with me just because I was there. He's calling in the state crime boys tonight.'
'Barnum just wants everything to go smoothly until he retires,' Marybeth said. 'He just wants to cruise on out of here without a ripple. And he especially doesn't want you to steal his thunder in the meantime.'
'Maybe,' Joe said, knowing she was probably right.
