"Looks like they've got us desperadoes. Ready for the big shoot out?"
"Naw," Fred answered. "Let's turn ourselves in and get a high priced lawyer."
"Mr. Dean?" The first man asked.
"Officer Livingston, I presume," Dean replied.
"No. It's Fitzgerald, Detective Fitzgerald," he said, without a hint of a smile. "Would you please come with us?"
"Only if you're going where I'm going, and for me, that's home."
The detective, who looked to be about fifty, started to take Dean's arm. Dean glared at him. "If you touch me, I'm liable to get really pissed." The man seemed to consider, aware of the small crowd whose attention was drawn to the group.
"Listen, Buster...." Fred said, moving closer to the tall lawman.
"Take a hike, pop." Fitzgerald answered but Dean intervened, grabbing the old man's arm. "Come on, Fred. It'll be just like reading a cheap thriller." He began walking down the road before Fitzgerald could protest further.
"Your home is fine," Fitzgerald answered, sounding irritated as he moved to follow them. Cop two remained a dozen steps behind them as if to let the pair know they'd better do as they were told.
Dean knew from his prior life the pair were just doing their job but that didn't mean he had to like being watched like a street felon. He and Fred walked down the road, unfortunately meeting a half-dozen friends from town en route. Fred grumbled, but Dean just slapped his back and began to whistle, as if he didn't have a care in the world, while his mind turned like a racecar piston on the final lap.
Two unmarked State cars were parked in front of Bird Song, along with, to Dean's surprise, Edith's rental car and Donald Ryland's Explorer. As they came in sight of the building, two men were lugging Shipton's belongings to a waiting car.
"Hail, hail, the gang's all here," Dean said as he climbed the front stairs.
Janet met him at the door, looking ready to cry. Dean wasn't sure if it was her natural aversion to anything involving law enforcement or concern for her boss's future. He tossed her an it's-all-right and, ignoring three more strangers in suits and the crowded parlor, went directly to the phone. Fitzgerald made a move to stop him, but John Wayne's twin with a bigger belly in a grey suit shook his head. Dean telephoned Cynthia's mother's number and his wife answered on the first ring.
He stared the others away while he spoke with her. He had been fortunate to catch her on lunch break from her bedside vigil at her mother's apartment. Mother slept constantly, Cynthia said, but according to the doctor, her progress was "as expected." No, she still wasn't out of the woods, but everyone seemed pleased at her responses to date.