"I suppose you're anxious to get back on the road," Dean hinted. Pumpkin didn't bite.
"No rush. It's cool here at Bird Song and I need a little R and
R. Great food," he added as he stuffed two rolls in his pocket.
Dean grabbed the near-empty plate, salvaging the few remaining morsels while Pumpkin was searching for more empty pockets to fill as he rose to leave.
"I'm off to shoot hoops with a kid I met at the hot spring pool," he said. "The pool's great. Like a giant bath tub." Dean nodded in agreement. The million-gallon harvest of nature's heated waters was a major tourist attraction. "You know Billy Langstrom?" Pumpkin asked.
"Sure. He's a high school kid. I think he's a friend of Mr. Westlake."
"Yeah. The old guy who's always taking pictures. He introduced us," Pumpkin said. "Billy's his godson or something." He paused at the door and mimed a jump shot at an imaginary hoop. "Think this kid Billy's any good?"
Dean had watched Billy play high school basketball the past winter. He was the most talented player the small Ouray school had produced in years. With an annual graduating class between ten to twenty students, the school was hard pressed to field notable teams. In spite of it, support was heavy for the school's primary sport. It was a nice social outlet during the long winter. This year there was something to cheer about with Billy Langstrom. Dean cautioned Pumpkin to keep his hand on his wallet, but the young hiker dismissed the advice with a wave of his hand. Loaded with pastry, he was off with youthful enthusiasm Dean envied.
After smearing peanut butter and jam on whole wheat bread for a lunch on the fly, Dean knocked on Martha's door. "Let's get going to Montrose and find you some luggage," he called. He knew Cynthia wanted to update him on her talk with Martha, but both realized time was short as they planned to take Martha to dinner for her last night under Bird Song's wing.
Martha emerged with little enthusiasm as Dean called up to his wife that they were leaving. He took her hand as they went out to his Jeep.
Once clear of town, Dean drove along at a brisk clip, trying without success to engage Martha in conversation. While the rush of air in the topless Jeep hindered communication, they usually managed to chatter away in spite of the noise. This time her responses were limited to nods and grunts and he finally gave up. He quickened his pace, having little reason to prolong the trip. When Dean saw the flashing lights behind him he was startled until he recognized the white Chevy Blazer, the sheriff's car, and his reaction turned from concern to a smile. Retiring Sheriff Jake Weller was coaxing him over for a roadside chat.