The Eagle and the Fox (A Snowy Range Mystery, #1) by Nya Rawlyns Page B

grinned at each other ruefully. As Marcus stretched his legs pacing the short length of dock, he did some thinking out loud.
    “Seems to me they can’t be complete strangers to the area. I know I haven’t seen them, but that don’t mean much considering I’m mostly in the store six days a week. Only time I get out is for church, like today, or if I get a hankering for Polly’s cooking on a Sunday afternoon. Question is, why are they here, and what the hell were they doing taking on a big kid like Will Barnes practically in view of the whole damn town?”
    “You think they wanted to be seen?” Josh was staring at Marcus intently.
    “I think they wanted to make a statement. What I’m not sure about is who that statement was for.”
    “So we got us some troublemakers, maybe up from Laramie or Rawlins. They’re Caucasian, mid-teens, all of ’em five-nine to five-eleven, short hair.”
    With Josh prodding him, details he’d never think to notice under normal circumstances came flooding back. “All three wore jeans. Baggy like the kind you see pictures of in the cities, with the stupid big side pockets and hems rolled at the ankles. Gangsta shit. Tee shirts. No logos.”
    The style of jeans might be significant. Any guy worth his salt wore Wranglers that fit but left room for sitting a horse comfortably. Anything too tight was asking for trouble, and too loose was equally risky. To sport baggy jeans in ranch country pinned the wearer as an outsider, and a foolish one at that.
    Josh asked, “How about jewelry? Earrings. The one I tossed had a stud in his right ear. Looked like an animal head, maybe stainless steel or nickel. The other one had a tat on his bicep but the tee-shirt kinda covered all but the edge.”
    Marcus shut his eyes again, visualizing how he’d seen the girl in the passenger seat, her hands covering her eyes, screaming bloody murder. He’d registered a body hurtling past to land with a solid thunk on the hard-packed sandy surface. The rest of the action unreeled behind his eyes in slow motion.
    Will was on the ground, curled into a ball, protecting himself as best he could. He’d crouched to check on the boy, keeping an eye on the one who was moving toward Josh. He’d tried to find enough spit to shout a warning to Josh that the leader had a knife. The asshole reached up as Josh’s elbow made contact under the kid’s chin, the sound of teeth and jaw crunching together loud as a gunshot. He wondered if the ex-MP had connected hard enough to break the kid’s jaw or to loosen some teeth.
    Then it was over and the entire town seemed to converge on that spot. He’d grabbed Petilune and carried her to safety. Now, here he was, with Josh, pawing through vague recollections but no closer to an explanation for who, let alone why.
    Marcus wondered aloud, “I’ve been mulling over if there was a reason for them to be at the reverend’s vehicle. And how the hell did Petilune get inside?” Even in a town like Centurion, where everybody knew everybody, you still locked your car doors. He slapped his thigh. “Why the hell was she even there with Will? He’s got a steady girl. It’s not like him...”
    Josh interrupted. “I don’t think she was with Will.”
    “How so?”
    “That date, last night. Remember that? She said it wasn’t anybody we’d know. What if it was one of those assholes?”
    Marcus thought there was merit in that. “You might be right. Just before the service, Pet was clingy, made a big deal about me sitting with her and the family.”
    “She usually do that?”
    “Nope. First time.”
    Marcus chewed his lower lip, trying to recall if the girl had said anything at all about her first date. The y’all don’t know him date. If she said anything at all, he’d been too distracted by the reverend, then by Josh, to pay much attention. His cheeks flared.
    Damn. I am so pathetic.
    Josh asked, “Did you notice a kid hanging around, dark hair and eyes? Wore a braid hung halfway