Death Without Company by Craig Johnson Page A

seatbelt and watched as he automatically fastened his. “What else did Archibald have to say?”
    “He said you were the best sheriff in Wyoming, and that if I was smart I’d keep my mouth shut and maybe learn something.”
    “Yep, well . . .” I put the truck in gear. “Archie drinks.” I pulled out onto the county road. “I’ve got a deal for you.” It wasn’t a question, and he looked at me. “How about I put you on for seventy-two hours, then we sit down and decide whether it’s working out or not?” I would have thought, with his background, that he wasn’t a gambler, but he didn’t hesitate and I started thinking that he was here for another reason.
    “Yes, sir.” He was quiet for a moment. “By the way, how much does the job pay, sir?”
    “Eighteen percent more than the job you’ve got now, and don’t call me sir. I ain’t your daddy near as we both know.” It was twenty-three years in the coming, but it still felt good.

3
    I was enjoying the usual. “ Coronea custodium regis .” He looked at me blankly. “I bet you can figure it out.” I negotiated the last chunk of biscuit back into the spicy gravy with my fork and lifted it into my mouth.
    “Keeper of the king’s pleas?”
    I looked at Dorothy, and we both looked at him. “Who says the values of a classical education are lost?”
    I watched as the woman who kept me alive by operating the only café within walking distance of the jail refilled my coffee cup. “You did, just last week.”
    “Richard the Lion-Hearted established these guys as a sort of tax collector. They were in charge of keeping track of convicted felons and their property, which was confiscated in the name of the king.” I laid the fork back on the empty plate. He was about to finish the same amount of the usual that I had, and I was impressed.
    There wasn’t anybody else in the little café, so Dorothy’s attention was exclusively on us. “And the difference between a medical examiner and a coroner?”
    She was reaching for the coffee pot, but I shook my head. “A medical examiner is trained, a coroner is elected.” The phone rang, and I watched as Dorothy reached to get it. “The last coroner up in Yellowstone County got into a little trouble back in the midseventies.” I went on. “Eddie Cole used to get paid about a thousand bucks an inquest, and it was only when four bear attacks one weekend came up with a victim of the same height, weight, and coloring that King Cole got into a little hot water.”
    When I looked back, Dorothy was holding the phone out to me. “Very agitated deputy for you.”
    I handled the receiver like it was loaded. “Hello?”
    “Are you enjoying your breakfast?”
    I pulled the earpiece a little away from my temple. “I was until now.”
    “We just got a report here at the office of some very angry individuals over at the old folks home, and now we’ve got those same individuals over at the hospital. I have been informed that this is one of your little fucking deals, so I would advise you to get your ass over there as fast as it can waddle.” The line went dead.
    I looked at the two of them. “Gotta go.”
    When I dropped Saizarbitoria off at the office with his bag, his cell phone, and his ball cap, I had the feeling I was sending him off to school. I warned him that all the training at the state pen wasn’t going to be of any use to him in there. He seemed undaunted. I told him to make friends with Dog because Harry Truman was right, but I don’t think he got it.
     
 
I stood up straight as I approached the reception desk at the hospital, something I rarely did in everyday life, but height came in handy in times of conflict. I could count on three hands how many physical altercations I had been in since I had become sheriff, but no matter what anybody says, size helps.
    I walked between the two people at the desk and loomed over Janine, whom I had a special fondness for whenever I remembered that she is Ruby’s