Page 23 of Bone’s Choice

Munch immediately moved. Probably the fastest he’d followed an order since he’d started prospecting.

Hose pulled a pair of gloves from his back pocket.

I looked at him. “You just carry those around?”

“I’m surrounded by you assholes.”

Fair enough.

He snapped them on and moved closer to the coffin. The rest of us instinctively moved farther away. Hose didn’t seem bothered by the smell, or he was better at pretending.

He leaned over the body. “Male.”

“We got that far, Doc,” Taco muttered.

“Shut up.” Hose looked over the man’s face and neck without touching him at first. “Bloating’s pretty advanced. Skin’s slipping in places.”

Munch made a strangled sound.

Hose looked over his shoulder. “You want to go outside?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Hose turned back.

Munch immediately stepped behind Bull.

I would’ve laughed if there wasn’t a dead fucking man decomposing inside one of my coffins.

“How long?” I asked.

Hose studied him. “Hard to be exact without knowing where he’s been kept. Temperature changes everything.”

“Guess.”

“Four days. Five maybe. Could be more if he was kept cold part of the time.”

Jackson dragged both hands over his face. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

I watched him. He looked genuinely shaken, but that didn’t mean shit. People could fake being surprised. They could fake panic. They could fake just about anything when they knew someone was watching.

“Tell me exactly what happened at the yard,” I ordered.

Jackson looked at me. “I already did.”

“Do it again.”

He swallowed. “I pulled into Milwaukee. They unloaded what I brought. I was waiting on the paperwork when one of the dock guys came over and said they had a Grave Casket return.”

“Name?”

“I don’t fucking know.”

“You’ve seen him before?”