"He'll never let you get away with it," Dean said. "He's just sitting back somewhere planning how to nail you."

She finished the cigarette and lit another. "I thought about that. If it comes out he was at my place and he somehow lies about what happened, I'd have to tell what he did. You'll verify what you saw, right? You wouldn't lie."

Lydia turned off the engine and they sat there alone with no other cars in sight. Dean couldn't believe this woman, but he was far too irritated to respond. Both knew she was right that he wouldn't lie. When Dean didn't answer, she started the Chevy Blazer and turned it back toward town. "I may even vote for you myself!" she said with a smile as they rolled forward.

As soon as she turned on the radio, it crackled to life. It was Jake Weller's voice calling to her. She grabbed the mike and answered.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked angrily. Radio etiquette was never to Jake Weller's liking.

"Up the hill. What's up? Over." She put her finger to her lips to quiet Dean.

"All hell's up, that's what! Fitzgerald is dead. I'm at his place. Looks like he ate his service revolver, but the jury's still out. I've called for help from Denver and the autopsy crew is on their way."

Lydia slammed on the breaks, flinging Dean against his seat belt. It was as if standing still would change the news. "Do you want me there?" Her voice cracked with nervousness.

"Hell, no! Someone has to cover the calls. But leave your damned radio on!"

"He killed himself, right?"

"He didn't leave a note." That was a classic indicator in a questionable suicide. The radio was silent.

Lydia Larkin was a wreck, as unstable as the night Billy Langstrom died. She started the vehicle, stalled it, and finally stuffed it in gear. "Honest to God, I didn't kill the bastard! I didn't mean for him to blow his brains out either! He didn't have a reason. We had a deal! God, I'm going to get dragged into this, I know it!" She turned to Dean. "I've got to get you out of here!"

"Drop me off." He grabbed the door handle as she spun around a curve. "Just don't kill us both first."

Lydia spoke not another word, ignoring Dean in favor of her thoughts as she raced back to town. She screeched to a stop at Bird Song and was off almost before he was out of the vehicle.

Bird Song was quiet. There was a note on the hall table from Cynthia that she and Martha had accepted Brandon Westlake's invitation to catch the late afternoon sun and photograph wildflowers, and Pumpkin Green has stopped by, looking for Dean. The Dawkins Four had apparently left and the newcomer guests were out seeing the town. Fred was alone, busy at his computer. He called down as soon as Dean entered.




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