Snippet, ROCCA JACK AND THE LIQUID GOLD JOB.

This title is probably going to change.

“Ah, right.” Robbie looked at another towel, shrugged, and grabbed it. “We ran into Mister Bear here about twenty minutes ago. It was quiet on the island; real quiet, like no animals were living there. That was weird, so we kept looking around until we found a ruin with a basement, with disturbed ground all around it. So, either that’s where the people were, or some critters, right?”

“Right,” Jack nodded. “So you figured you should check it out, either way.”

“Well, sure. What the hell, right?” Robbie grinned. “That sounds stupid, when I say it out loud, huh? Anyway, as we get closer, Mister Bear shows up, waving away with those arms of his. So we all yell, ‘Crap, a bear!’ and other smart things while we’re looking for cover. All careful-like, because he’s keeping his distance, but we spread out a bit. That’s when we realized the ground was crunchy.”

“Crunchy?” That was Gonzales, who’d been muttering over the golboat and writing down numbers. “What was it, seashells?”

“Nah,” Robbie replied. “Bones.”