"This isn't a laughing matter, Mr. Dean," Corday said sternly, although most of the departing guests thought otherwise.

"No, I don't suppose it is. But I've got to tell you, it looks pretty funny to see this many suits and uniforms in Ouray on the same day. I bet that hasn't happened since they buried the last mayor."

Mick, trailing behind with Penny, called over his shoulder, "Why don't you just round up all of Shipton's enemies, rent a stadium and interview them?"

Penny laughed, then covered her mouth. Corday glowered at her. "Well," she said, "he hit on me the first time I set eyes on him. I laughed in the jerk's face. He was a total asshole."

Fred sat down on the sofa, staking out his territory, letting the world know he had every intention of sticking around. Gladys paused by the door.

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"How do you spell your last name, officer?" she asked the leader of the pack.

"Emile Corday, ma'am. C-o-r-d-a-y."

Gladys smiled some more. "This is so exciting," she giggled as she backed out of the room.

Fred squirmed to a more comfortable position. "Aren't you supposed to ask him if he wants a lawyer?"

"Do you?" Corday asked, directing his question to Dean.

"Only if you're paying for it."

"You don't look indigent."

"I'm not. I'm just cheap. Why should I pay a hundred bucks an hour for some guy to tell me not to answer questions I don't mind answering in the first place?"

"You're willing to voluntarily speak to us?"

Dean realized from his past experience that being forthcoming and subjecting himself to interrogation without an attorney was naive but the entire idea of his trying to kill Shipton was so ludicrous in his mind, he tended to minimize the seriousness of the situation. He sat next to Fred on the sofa. "Sure, let's talk. But shouldn't Sheriff Weller be here?"

"Your very good friend Sheriff Weller is busy chasing speeders and bike-nappers. This is our investigation. We're here at the invitation of the Ouray Police Department," Fitzgerald said, not even attempting to hide the chill in his voice.

Dean stared at him, but was lost for a snippy response. "Why don't you cut down on the troops here? We don't need the entire brigade. If about eighty percent of your help left town maybe my nice country inn wouldn't look like Dillinger's hideout and we could get down to business and wrap this up. But please, let's not play silly games like good-cop, bad-cop and all that bullshit."

Corday nodded to the others who slowly left the room until he and Fitzgerald were the only two officers remaining. Corday looked at Fred, seemed to consider asking him to leave and then decided he'd best leave well enough alone. Fred had his pencil and pad at the ready.




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