The Dinosaur Hunter: A Novel
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The cowboys who work on the ranchlands of Montana expect more than their fair share of trouble. One of them is Mike Wire, a former homicide detective. Mike is about to learn murder and mayhem can happen under Motnana's big skies, too. Beneath the earth lie enough dinosaur fossils to fill several museum collections---and make a fortune for whoever claims them first. Soon he will have to combine everything he learned as a cop with everything he knows as a cowboy to protect the people and the land he could never live without.
If that guy between us and the lake starts shooting, find him and kill him. ” “I’ll take care of him,” Ray swore. “Mike, you can’t stay behind,” Jeanette said. “Somebody has to. I won’t wait long before heading out, too. ” “They’re doing something,” Ray said. “They have a big net they’re spreading out. ” I crawled over to have a look. It did look like a big net but for what purpose I couldn’t imagine. Then one of the Russians went over and started rolling one of the jacketed bones toward it. ” Pick was watching.
He said as he reached the trucks. “Just tell me what to do,” I replied. He got a bottle of water from the back of his truck and drained it. “Laura will do that,” he said. “She’s in charge of the dig. ” “Where is she? ” “I gave her and Tanya a little time off,” he said, “so they went prospecting. That’s what paleontologists most love to do, look for something new. ” “Have you found anything new? ” “Well, when they get back, we’ll ask them,” he said, leaving unanswered whether he’d found anything. I didn’t push him about it.
Pick’s truck. Pick and the girls in front, boys in back. Anybody else you want to know about? ” “Cade Morgan and his buddy? ” “Don’t know about them. You ready? ” I was ready and so off we went along the twenty miles of dirt road to the Hell Creek State Park and the Hell Creek Marina for the annual Fillmore County Independence Day Dance. Overhead, the moon was out, bright and luminous in a clear, starry sky. It was a gentle, peaceful evening, which, even through the gin, reminded me that Montana was probably up to no good.
Cows were respected in Fillmore County. You didn’t just kill a cow without there being some really good reason and I couldn’t think of one. OK, I did think of one. What if, say, a certain husband of a certain mayor found out a certain Square C cowboy had been tapping his wife? As I mentioned, Ted Brescoe was a nasty piece of work but, on the other hand, if he’d done it, then why did he also go off and kill one of Aaron Feldmark’s cows and leave that stupid note? That didn’t make sense. Finally, I thought of the possibility that maybe that note wasn’t stupid at all.
Well, that’s all you’ve got,” she said, “and it took nearly all your money to buy it. You’re cooked. ” What was I thinking? This was Fillmore County, which is to say it was 1950s U. S. A. , and teenagers alone in a motel room were more likely to play Monopoly than literally screw around. But I knew that could change on a dime, considering that Ray and Amelia were, after all, the real deal so I said, “Ray, your mother wants you to go with me to the fairgrounds. The vendors always need a lot of help.