When Colorado rancher and part-time tribal investigator Charlie Moon gets a call from Wanda Naranjo, she’s panicked. Not only is her sink leaking, which Moon graciously fixes, but her sixteen-year-old daughter, Betty, has gone missing. For how long? Only a few hours, but she’s pregnant. So what about the father-to-be? It’s a good question and anybody’s guess. Betty has kept her lips sealed on the subject. And that’s not all. Betty claimed to be going to see a school counselor on what turned out to be his day off. So was she running away or was she abducted? Moon’s best friend, Granite Creek Chief of Police Scott Parris, doesn’t believe any of it and suspects that Wanda tricked them into doing a little emergency plumbing. While it’s enough to make Parris’s blood boil, Moon can’t shake the feeling that some other foul play might be at work. James D. Doss’s Coffin Man is a witty ride through the Wild West that’s chock-full of tall tales, wide-open spaces, and Doss’s signature homespun wit. “A droll fandango… Storytelling that caresses the synapses... Top-flight work from Doss, who can outplot most anybody and give cold-blooded miscreants a case of the giggles. Are you listening, awards committees?” — Kirkus Reviews (starred review) on A Dead Man’s Tale “ Snake Dreams is the thirteenth novel in this series, and since it’s a very good one—funny, smart, and totally different—it’s a great place for readers to discover Moon.” — The Globe and Mail (Toronto) on Snake Dreams “James D. Doss’s novels about Charlie Moon… feel as if the author is sitting around a campfire, spinning a tall tale that engulfs a circle of listeners.… Doss’s tale is evocative of the area and of Indian lore, and his chatty, down-home style shines.” — Florida Sun-Sentinel on Three Sisters “Doss’s trademark humor keeps Charlie and Scott wisecracking as the plot spins smartly along to an unpredictable ending.… The most recent Charlie Moon mysteries still charm us with Western voices and ways.” — Rocky Mountain News on Three Sisters “Doss does for the Utes what Tony Hillerman has done for the Navajo.” — The Denver Post James D. Doss is the author of the fifteen previous Charlie Moon mysteries, including A Dead Man’s Tale . Two of the Moon books were named among the best books of the year by Publishers Weekly . Originally from Kentucky, he divides his time between Los Alamos and Taos, New Mexico. CHAPTER ONE   CAN DEL ESPRITU THURSDAY MORNING Daisy Perika has resided at the mouth of Spirit Canyon for more bone-chilling winters than she cares to remember. Since the tribal elder now spends about nine days out of ten at her nephews vast cattle ranch northwest of Granite Creek, her home has become a place to spend a day or two in now and then. During these occasional visits, Miss Daisy begins by making sure that nothing is amiss, such as an odorous skunk that has taken up residence under the hardwood floor, a pair of frisky squirrels raising a family in the attic, or a broken window where the dry west wind blows dust in. Charlie Moon can be counted on to deal with such problems forthwith, and when all has been made right, Daisy enjoys sleeping away a peaceful night in her own bed, cooking breakfast on her six-burner propane range, and taking long, soul-satisfying walks in her canyon. Yes, her canyon. It matters little that the shadowy space between miles-long Three Sisters Mesa and the lesser promontory known as Dogleg is owned by the tribe. As long as Daisy Perika has lived in this remote location, hardly anyone besides herself ever sets foot inside Spirit Canyon but those lonely haunts that Can del Espritu is named for and the dwarfish pitukupf who allegedly resides therein. But enough about local geography and Daisys thousand-year-old neighbor, who will make his presence known if and when he is of a mind to. What currently commands our attention (and excites our olfactory senses) are the tantalizing aromas drifting out of Daisys kitchen. Ahhh sniff a whiff of that ! (Nothing smells quite so appetizing as burning animal fat.) On the left half of a massive Tennessee Forge skillet, plump pork sausages are sizzling deliciously. On the opposite side, strips of bacon pop grease hot enough to put out a bronze statues eyeball. And thats not all. In a matching black cast-iron cooking implement, fresh eggs, sharp cheddar cheese, presauted Vidalia onions, and Hatch green chili are being stirred by Sarah Frank into an exceedingly tasty scramble. In a blue enameled pot, tar-black coffee percolates with seductive plickity-plocks. This high-octane concoction is guaranteed to knock off your socks. In the top of the oven, Daisys secret-recipe, made-from-scratch biscuits are slowly baking to a golden-brown perfection. On the shelf below that, a tray of delicious cinnamon-bun confections are swelling with justifiable pride. One is tempted to drop in and tuck a napkin under the chin. Sadly, Daisys dining table is set only for four. BRE