"That's ridiculous!" Joseph thought a moment. "You didn't find anything up there to make you believe that shit, did you?"
Dean paused before answering, not just to build the suspense, but to think how much information to divulge. "It's a bit too early to say," came his response. "But if there was an old skeleton up there, I wonder whose it could be?"
"You're playing games! Look, I don't want anything disturbing that property! No snooping around up there-by anyone!"
"Why? If there were remains of a man in that mine, I would think you'd want to know who he was."
"I don't give a damn about what might have happened years ago! And I won't put up with any trouble at The Lucky Pup!" He pointed his finger and snarled, "Remember that!"
Joseph turned on his heels and stormed upstairs. Dean wandered back to the kitchen, where his wife was fixing supper. She took one look at the smirk on his face.
"You're being naughty again, aren't you?"
He gave her a hug. "It's really tough not being able to get away with anything when you're around. I think I was just threatened, but I'm not sure why." He related his conversation with Joseph Dawkins. "I'm just turning the heat up a notch," he added. "After all, someone tried to get us lost in that mine and sabotaged our Jeep. I haven't forgotten that."
"Just don't do anything foolish," she cautioned.
The phone rang, precluding a pithy rejoinder, and as Cynthia was elbow-deep in dishwater, Dean answered. It was Randy.
The two chatted while Cynthia dried her hands. Wedding plans were progressing nicely, now totally out of male hands, and Randy's baseball activities were in high gear. Randy asked about Fred, and Dean related Fred's latest exploits with the bargains from the props of the play Boo! When Randy heard the name, he said he'd seen a production performed at college and how hilarious it was when they find the skeleton.
Dean handed the phone to his wife as the light went on like in the comic books-a flashing bulb of inspiration. How many prop skeletons could there be in the small town of Ouray? And if Martha's discovery had been substituted with the theater prop, he'd bet his boots there was an empty trunk out there somewhere! Or, more intriguingly, perhaps one of the auction's bargain foot lockers contained the remains of the actual skeleton!
Fred strolled in, perturbed that his computer was still being used, this time by Joseph Dawkins, who was checking his e-mail. "You'd think we're running one of them cyber cafes, not an inn," the old man muttered. "Between that Westlake guy checking his stocks and his Internet auctions and now Joseph and his brother, I hardly get time to do my own business."