Friday, May 28th 7:00 A.M.
Because of his suspicion the phone was bugged, Dean did not try to call Cece Baldwin when he arrived home after midnight, home to a still empty house. Fred must have been making up for lost time with the loves of his life. Dean was tired and slept so soundly he never heard the old man come in. Early the next morning, after showering, he walked around the corner to a gas station and from an outside payphone dialed Cece Baldwin. Seven a.m. proved successful as a sleepy voice answered on the third ring.
"What time is it?"
"Early-I'm sorry. This is Detective Dean. You called me."
"Who?"
"Detective Dean, from Parkside."
"Oh, yeah. Jeez, you know, it's still practically dark out." Dean tapped his fingers, giving her time to wake up. After smothering a yawn, she asked, "Did you send me that money?"
"What money?"
"'Cause, if you did...look, I don't need any charity from anyone. I'm doing this on my own..."
"What money?"
"You didn't, huh?" He didn't answer. "I got this money in the mail. It said, 'Use it for college. A friend.' That was it. No name- nothing."
"How much?"
She paused. "A thousand bucks. Ten 100-dollar bills. Look, I don't have those kinds of friends."
"Neither do I. Where was it postmarked?" He covered one ear to mute the passing traffic.
"I ripped the envelope when I tore it open but I could read Burlington. That's in New Jersey, isn't it?"
"And other states too, I'd guess. But Burlington, New Jersey isn't far from Philadelphia. Maybe some of the people at World Wide took up a collection."
"Yeah, I'll bet," she said sarcastically.
"You didn't recognize the handwriting?"
"It was typed. That's all it said-'Use it for college. A friend'-on an index card. What should I do?"
"I suggest you take the advice. Use it for college."
She thought about it for a moment. "It's not that I can't use the dough but it bugs me, you know? Not knowing."
"What made you think I sent it?" he asked.
"I don't know. You were asking about Jeff and all. Sending the money is like something he'd do-if he had the dough." She paused before asking, "He isn't alive or something, is he?"
"No." Dean surprised himself with the firmness of his answer. After the conversation was over he felt a pang of guilt for responding so emphatically.
When Dean returned to the house he knocked on Fred's bedroom door until he heard the old man grumble to wakefulness. "Come on, get dressed. We're going out for a cup of coffee."