Death on the High Lonesome by Frank Hayes Page B

I’m off the clock now. I’ll sit in for a couple of hours. That’s the least I can do. You know, that bust didn’t hurt my stock any, so I figure I owe you.”
    Virgil grabbed his hat off the desk. “That’s great. Drink all the coffee you want. I’m out of here, before you change yourmind. Dif shows up, tell him I’m on my way to the Thompson ranch. He can reach me there.”
    â€œVirgil, I’m going to try to set up the other thing for tomorrow.”
    â€œOkay. Do you want to give me a hint?”
    â€œNo. I think it’s better if you don’t know till then, especially if you’ve got a situation now that needs your focus.”
    Virgil gave a slight wave, then was out the door. All the way to the Thompson ranch, he puzzled over Kyle’s reticence. He even passed the turnoff because he was so preoccupied.
    â€œDamn, missed the turn.” He backed up Rosie’s car a full quarter of a mile before he saw the marker.
    â€œCharlie sure likes his privacy.” The only indication of the ranch was a sign proclaiming the name HIGH LONESOME and an arrow below pointing down the dirt road with the notation 8 MILES . The sign hadn’t been refreshed in at least twenty years, Virgil figured. Sagebrush along with cactus had grown up around it.
    â€œIf you didn’t know it was here, you’d never find it,” he said to the empty car. The road in was rough. Dust clouds trailed in his wake while more than a couple of times loose stones bounced off the underside of the car. Like Rosita, he was aware of the emptiness. He hadn’t been here in a few years, but remembered clusters of cattle dotting the now-vacant landscape. He saw a couple of mule deer, but no livestock. There were a couple of places where the fencing was in serious need of attention. The earlier preoccupation with Kyle’s last comment had slipped away, then vanished completely when he saw Rosie standing by a corral fence, stroking a horse that looked like it belonged in a cartoon. He pulled alongside the cruiser that she had driven. Rosita was still stroking the old horse when he got out of the car.
    â€œThat sway is so deep, I think I could jump over that horse’sback from a standstill,” Virgil said as he got out of the car. “Wonder why Charlie hasn’t put him down? His time has come and gone.”
    â€œNot always easy to say good-bye, Virgil. You know that. I think this old guy was something special in his day.”
    Virgil took a step back, eyeing the horse.
    â€œI can’t believe it. Rosie, I think you’re right. I do believe this is the horse Charlie rode in his last rodeo years. If I’m right, he took a first, his last year in bulldogging on this guy. This old-timer’s got to be at least thirty-five.”
    Rosie patted him once more, then stepped away. “I called the EMTs. Thought maybe they’d get here before you.”
    â€œGood,” Virgil said. “Where’s Velma?”
    Rosita nodded toward the house. Virgil could see the figure sitting in the porch chair even though the late-day shadows were creeping across the front yard.
    â€œShe’s where I found her. I called from the house, but it didn’t feel right staying there. I felt like a trespasser. That’s why I decided to come out here and hang out with this old guy till you or the EMTs showed up.”
    â€œAny sign of the help?”
    â€œNo one. Nothing.”
    â€œThey must be around here somewhere. There must be somebody besides Charlie and Velma on this place.”
    â€œWell, Velma told me some time back that Manuel is still here. She also mentioned Lorenzo. I don’t think I know him, but Manuel has been here a long time.”
    â€œManuel and Cesar are good friends. I’ve met him a bunch of times. I’ve run into him at the feed store with another fella. That must be Lorenzo. Daylight’s slipping away, so wherever they are