Fred O'Connor returned, a bag of treasures in his hand, just as the slide show broke up. Westlake took an immediate interest in four pieces of bargain glassware and a couple of tin kitchen utensils. Birds of a feather, Dean thought. The elderly photographer was as bad as Fred. You'd think the old guys had found gold. They lapsed into an animated conversation about depression glass, antiques, and the marvels of unloading junk on Internet auctions. Like Fred, Westlake too had callused fingertips from pounding computer keys. David Dean, without a remote control, had difficulty with the TV and these two old fogies were out surfing the net like a couple of Silicon Valley youngsters.
Dean left the group for the kitchen and found Paulette Dawkins had beaten him there. He caught her with her hand in the refrigerator. After embarrassed apologies, she seemed compelled to sit down and chat, as if idle conversation might be penance for the pilfered peach pie. Dean took a seat and joined her, part politeness, part to guard the remaining slice.
"This is so weird," Paulette said, licking her chubby fingers. "Before old Pop Dawkins croaked, those guys hardly spoke to each other. Now we're all spending a week together."
"That's nice."
"No, it's not nice. I'd rather be back in California." Then she confided in a stage whisper, "And as far away as I can get from that bitch Ginger-Joseph's wife. They're too cheap to let the lawyers do all the work so they had to come out here. Then we did too, so darling Joseph wouldn't rob us blind." When Dean didn't respond-principally because he had no idea what this woman was talking about-she continued. "We spent the entire morning in a lawyer's office. Why do they have to talk in Latin? That, and looking at maps. Now the boys are out there doing the same damn thing-more maps! Bor-ing!" Dean's continued silence prompted her to explain. "The old goat-their father-had some land out here and now my dear brother-in law is scared to death Paul and me will get more of it than him-if his wife doesn't end up with the whole thing. We're renting a Jeep and going up to see it tomorrow. Alone, thank God. Both of them hate heights."
Then she added, "Don't tell them where we're going! We said we were driving to Telluride for the day." Dean nodded. He didn't tell her he'd heard Joseph himself call the Jeep rental dealer earlier.
"Fun in the mountains, for a whole week," Paulette added, rising with a yawn, "if we don't kill each other."
It was an interesting conversation, albeit one-way. Dean hadn't opened his mouth.