"I thought you were out in Colorado looking at some place you inherited," Dean said.
"Just got back. You wouldn't believe this little town, Ouray. It's up in the mountains, a zillion miles from any shopping."
"Sounds like my kind of place."
"I'd let you stay there if I wasn't still mad at you for not helping me win my bet," she said. "Now I have to give Leland a night of unforgettable pleasure just because you couldn't prove that jerk Byrne skipped out on his wife."
"Now Marian, be nice. Is a wild night with Leland such a terrible ordeal?"
"You don't know Leland the way I do!"
"If he isn't up to it, give me a call!"
"Sounds like fun!" Marian answered.
Just then, Lieutenant Anderson picked up the phone. "Dean, are you trying to put a move on my wife?"
"Certainly, wouldn't you?"
"Damn right! What's cooking?"
When Dean explained the recent happenings, both men turned serious. The blue Ford from the previous day had been located in Lansdale, Pennsylvania that morning. It had been stolen, so the police had no way of putting out a call for Nota and his friend unless someone in the neighborhood had sharp eyes. Dean was betting on Cora Abernathy.
"What gets me," said Dean, "is how they knew who I was and where I lived. I don't think I was followed until Thursday and I lost them then before I got to the house. I didn't show those punks anything but my badge when I hassled them at Baratto's place last Sunday."
"No one at the station is dumb enough to give out any information on personnel. I don't think those two goons could have gotten it there. But they found you, so keep watching your back. Their kind mean business." Dean didn't have to be told. He had seen firsthand what the folks from Philly did to Billie Wassermann.
Fred made it be known he had no intention of going to the hospital, though it wasn't suggested. The doctor told Dean his stepfather was too ornery to suffer any lasting effects from his ordeal. It was apparent the old man was feeling much more chipper, reveling in his notoriety. Dean didn't even insist he remain in bed. Later, after everyone had gone, Dean sent out for pizza and both men knocked off a large pie with the works and enough scotch to get silly.
Just after seven Cora Abernathy called, in tears. She had stopped by that afternoon but when she heard the music and the doorbell went unanswered, she assumed Fred was entertaining the competition. She had gone home to sulk causing, in her mind, Fred to suffer hours of grief and agony from her selfish inaction. Fred consoled her in his best fashion in spite of having a snoot-full at the time-the mark of a real pro. Cora had spotted a car, a black Buick this time, but had not written down the license plate number.