"Dickinson Faust."
"One in the same. Then there's Paulette. She's oblivious to everything. Definitely the pick of the litter. Not at the head of the line when brains were passed out, but basically a good slob. She's just too influenced by the others."
"Who could do something desperate, like covering up an old murder?"
"Depending on provocation-any or none." She smiled. "Even me," then added, "do you really think that's what happened? It rather sounds like an airport paperback."
Dean smiled. "I guess you're right. But there were bones and now they're gone. I just don't know who or how or why they were taken."
"And it all revolves around Paul's land, doesn't it?"
Dean nodded. "The level of interest everyone is showing in some remote acreage is all out of whack, given its questionable value."
"Will you take me up there to see it?" She quickly added, "I'll pay you."
Dean was more than just surprised by her request. "Sure, I'd be happy to," he answered, adding, "no need to pay. I jump at any excuse to visit the high country. Besides, my wife is itching to photograph the wildflowers."
Dean arranged to pick up Jennifer Radisson at her hotel later that afternoon, after the parade and the water fight. He wanted to make sure he had time to hook up with Billy Langstrom and question the young man, whom he knew would be there.
She patted his arm as she rose to leave. "In spite of the fact that you're as nutty as a full course sundae, you're a nice guy. If I lived here, I'd probably even vote for you."