"Except you and your wife."
"Right. Now someone seems to be trying to discourage us from finding the identity of the bones, who caused them to become bones, and how they happened to get in the Lucky Pup mine."
"Did you read this somewhere or do you just have a vivid imagination?"
"No. Honest injun."
She stared at him, trying to understand. "Interesting, but sorry, I didn't kill anyone."
Dean clapped as a pair of poodles pranced by. "You're too young to be the killer. The bones are probably forty years old. We're just trying to find out who might be involved in covering up the matter."
"Personally, I have to disappoint you again, but if you're taking a vote for any derisive activity, I'll cast my ballot for the boys, just on general principals." Then she added, "Even though I don't have a flick of an idea what you're talking about."
"The boys don't seem to like you very much either."
"Meet the original wicked stepmother." She laughed at herself.
"How did that come about?"
"Probably because I never tried very hard to be otherwise. The boys were both adults when I married their father. They were so nasty when he told them about me we both found it simpler to ignore the jerks. It seemed to suit them as well."
"Maybe if you'd all got to know each other better, you'd have become bosom buddies."
"Water under the proverbial. . ." she said with a smile as she bent down to pat a frisky parader who'd pulled free of his mistress's leash.
"Besides," she laughed. "Joseph's never forgiven me for not sleeping with him after our high school junior prom. You can't blame him after he spent scads of money on a tux and flowers and gourmet dinner. That was supposed to guarantee an automatic roll and a bounce."
"Mean of you."
"I suppose so. It was simply a case of differing definitions of quid pro quo."
"You never gave brother Paul a whirl?"
"Lord, no! He was far too young! A mere sophomore when I was a regal senior. In spite of him being the school jock, I still had my standards."
"How did you meet daddy?"
She looked over at him. "My, you're being a regular nosy little detective, aren't you?"
"Us sheriff candidates have to practice. You said yourself I need it."
She smiled. "We met at a school basketball game. Paul was watching his son-a parental obligation thing-he didn't really like sports. I was checking out a point guard who proved to be too short. Paul sat next to me, just like we're sitting now. We got talking and I was fascinated. Here was this old geezer acting like I was a human being. I was enthralled-an eighteen year old at the time, but I never forgot him. He talked to me as if I were a real person, not just a skirt he was plotting to lift."