"Not yet. They've got the car-it's the one she stole. It was ditched and the couple ducked into a mall. That's all I know. Look, I've got to run. I just wanted you to know we're getting close." He hung up before the Deans could vent their frustration.
If anything, the news was more upsetting to Cynthia. Previously, the child was under the protection of her mother. Regardless of how irresponsible the woman was, she presumably possessed natural maternal instincts for her child. Now Martha was out there on her own.
The Deans jumped at every ring of the phone for the balance of the afternoon, but there was no further word. Supper was picked-at leftovers, and neither felt like socializing with Bird Song's guests, who came and went on their own, without their usual afternoon goodies and conversation. Even Jennifer Radisson's visit was forgotten until the doorbell rang just before seven.
"I'm leaving tonight," she said as the Deans led the well-dressed woman back to their private quarters. Gone was the casual hiking attire of their last encounter, replaced by a chic outfit, full makeup, and high-heeled shoes. She carried a package. "A friend who is staying in Telluride has a private plane and is flying back to the coast."
As the group passed the stairs, Ginger Dawkins was coming down. Jennifer gave her a ta-ta wave before they entered the Dean's office.
"I see Ginger is back," she said with a smile as they sat. "Apparently the shine is off Mr. Faust's halo."
"The whole clan is on short notice," Dean said. "They're scheduled to leave tomorrow. Civility isn't the right word but at least they're speaking with one another. Faust is history."
"A nosy bartender told me Ginger was expecting something a bit more lasting than her attorney had to offer. She was scared to death I'd blackmail her with the picture I took of her sweater in Dickinson Faust's Jeep. It seems she considered it somewhat incriminating as she was supposed to be at the pool with some of the other guests at the time. Just to make sure nothing disturbed daddy's open arms, she offered me a hundred bucks for the picture!"
"You took her money?" Cynthia asked.
"Certainly. Too bad it was a sweater instead of her panties. I could have stretched the offer to a thou! I didn't want the silly picture anyway, and the price was right. I never would have done anything with it-I just snapped it on a lark. Besides, the Dawkins are feeling wealthy about now. I gave them a few dollars for the land they've been fighting over. I guess Ginger counted the new eggs in the family basket and skipped back to the hubby's bed. By the way, it was Ginger who shot the gun-just to scare us off."