Read Online The Double-Jack Murders: A Sheriff Bo Tully Mystery (Sheriff Bo Tully Mysteries) by Patrick F. McManus - Free Book Online Page B

did. As a matter of fact I was awake long before dawn cracked. Your and Dave’s snoring kept me awake most of the night. I think you were the little woodland creature and Dave was the huge beast tearing the little guy to pieces.”
    “You must have been dreaming,” Dave said, coming through the tent flaps. “I’ve never snored in my entire life. If you want to call those pitiful squeaks and squeals that come out of Pap snoring, well I guess you’ve never been in the army and lived in a barracks.”
    “I’m afraid I came up between the wars. It wasn’t easy. You’ve got to have good judgment about when to get born these days. So how many trout, Dave?”
    “Three and a small mountain of those hash browns. They look yummy.”
    “Yummy! I’ve never heard a grown man say ‘yummy.’”
    “You have to be awfully tough and mean to say ‘yummy,’ Bo. I’ve been places where saying ‘yummy’ could get you killed.”
    “You’re close to being in one of them right now.” Bo slid three small trout and a mound of hash browns onto Dave’s plate. The trout were brown and crisp.
    “You eat them like French fries, Dave.”
    “I already figured that out. They’re about the size of fries.”
    Pap had been paying serious attention to his own plate of bacon, trout, and hash browns. He looked up. “I just had an idea.”
    Tully and Dave looked at him as if this might have been Pap’s first idea in years.
    “So?” Tully said.
    “You know that mine that was marked on the map? That’s the Finch Mine. It’s only a couple of miles from here. Why don’t we go take a look at it?”
    “Let’s see,” Tully said. “Well, it’s within the range we figured out. But you said there’s a chain across the road and No Trespassing signs all over the place.”
    “I told you I snuck a bolt cutter into the back of the pickup. We can just snip the lock off and drive on in. It won’t hurt nothing and I can look around and see if I can find where I buried the bottle of gold.”
    “You sure that’s the same mine Gramps worked?”
    “Yeah. It won’t hurt nothing for us to go in and take alook. We’re just messing around anyway. You know there ain’t no way we’re ever going to find out what happened to Agatha’s pappy and that boy. It’s over eighty years since they disappeared.”
    Tully tugged on the droopy corner of his mustache while he mulled this over. “I’ll tell you what, Pap. I’ll call Agatha and see if she can tell me where the Finches live. If she can, we’ll go ask them if we can look around the mine.”
    “There’s one big drawback to that approach. They might say no.”
    Tully took out his phone and dialed Agatha.
    “Bo?” she said.
    “Yeah, it’s me.”
    “I thought you’d be calling. Your deputy showed up last night. I almost shot him, but he’s much too good looking.”
    “Despite Ernie’s looks, he’s a pretty good deputy. He’ll stay there until we get Kincaid run down. He won’t be much of a bother.”
    “Oh no, he’s a lovely young man. He and Bunny have hit it off, too.”
    “What! Put Ernie on. I need to have a word with him.”
    “He and Bunny are out by the creek. I’ll have him call you when they come in.”
    “Yeah, please do, Agatha. Oh, the reason I called—can you tell me where the Finches live?”
    “Why, yes, Teddy and Margaret Finch are good friends of ours. They’re a lovely couple. You would never know they’re filthy rich. They own thousands of acres of prime timber landand they keep their woods like a park. A year or two ago, Teddy got some ecological award for his stewardship of the land or some such thing. They know all about you, too, Bo. They’re some of your biggest fans.”
    “My sheriffing? I didn’t know law enforcement had fans.”
    “Of course not, silly. I mean your painting!”
    “Oh, good. Maybe they’ll let us go in and check out their mine. By the way, tell Ernie I don’t hold with poaching.”
    “Poaching? What on earth do you