The sheriff's office was located only a few blocks east of Bird Song, behind the County Court House, where Fred O'Connor would report for jury duty the following Tuesday. Dean promised himself to keep driving past the building if the deputy Larkin's car was in evidence, but only the sheriff's vehicle was present. He smiled to himself as he climbed the steps, wondering what Jake's reaction would be to a search for ancient bones. But the smile disappeared quickly when he came face to face, not with Jake Weller, but Lieutenant Fitzgerald.
The two men didn't simply dislike one another-the feelings ran far deeper. They had knocked heads and locked wills over the death of a Bird Song guest during the prior January's Ice Climbing Festival when bitter words were exchanged. While Dean was fully exonerated from any wrongdoing in the unfortunate affair, either Fitzgerald failed to agree with the determination or simply despised being judged wrong. He publicly continued to express strong feelings about Dean's involvement. Dean felt equally acrimonious toward the overbearing state official whom he hadn't seen since the winter and who, in Dean's mind, had no business being back in Ouray.
"If it isn't candidate David Dean," Fitzgerald said, not even trying to warm the ice in his voice. He sat there, not in a uniform, but in shirt and tie, with a suit jacket slung over the chair. Dean thought him to be in his late forties but he looked physically in shape and much younger. However, his professional attire somehow didn't fit in the shabby office.
"I have an appointment with the sheriff," Dean answered. "What are you doing here?"
"Restoring law and order to Ouray County. God knows they need it if they're considering electing you for their sheriff."
Dean ignored the sarcasm. "Where's Jake Weller?"
"Your bosom buddy Jake's on a short leave. To California, visiting a daughter. I'm here to put things straight. The State of Colorado sent me over, seeing as there's no experienced under-sheriff or deputy. Only little Lydia-who I understand was Jill-on-the-job and busted you for racing on her first day on duty. Now I get to visit with you. Lucky me, huh? Lucky you. Now, what in the hell do you want?"
Dean cursed himself for not wanting to talk to the redheaded deputy, who would have been infinitely preferable to this obnoxious jerk. God, it unnerved him to even consider telling Fitzgerald about the bones. How in hell did he get himself into these situations? But he and his big mouth had promised Martha. He took a deep breath and plunged in.
"There's a young girl who's been staying with us. She and another child were poking around a mine up above Governor's Basin. They found some old bones."