“Why do you ask, Mr. Pitt?” Lee asked.

“I found some old aircraft parts in Miss Smith’s garage. Her father must have put them there. I thought perhaps he found them somewhere nearby in the mountains.”

Charlie Smith,” Maxine said wistfully. “Godresthis soul. Heusedto dream up more schemes to get rich than an unemployed embezzler on welfare.”

Most likely bought them parts from some surplus store in Denver

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Vixen 03 I 23

so’s he could build another one of his nonworking contraptions.”

“I get the impression Loren’s father was a frustrated inventor.”

“Poor old Charlie was that.” Lee laughed. “I remember the time he tried to build an automatic fishing-pole caster. Damned thing threw the lure everywhere but in the water.”

“Why do you say ‘poor old Charlie’?”

A sorrowful expression came over Maxine’s face. “I guess because of the horrible way he died. Didn’t Loren tell you about it?”

“Only that it was three years ago.”

Lee motioned to Pitt’s nearly empty bottle. “Like another beer?”

“No thanks; this is fine.”

“The truth of the matter is,” Lee said, “Charlie blew up.”

“Blew up?”

“Dynamite, I guess. Nobody never knew for sure. About all they ever found they could recognize was one boot and a thumb.”

“Sheriff’s report said it was another one of Charlie’s inventions gome wrong,” Maxine added.

“I still say bullshit!” Lee grunted.

“Shame on you.” Maxine shot her husband a puritanical stare.

“That’s the way I feel about it. Charlie knew more about explosives than any man alive. He used to be an Army demolitions expert. Why, hell, he defused bombs and artillery shells all across Europe in World War Two.”

“Don’t pay any attention to him,” said Maxine haughtily. “Lee has it in his head Charlie was murdered. Ridiculous. Charlie Smith didn’t have an enemy in the world. His death was an accident pure and simple.”

“Everyone’s entitled to an opinion,” Lee said.

“Some dessert, Mr. Pitt?” asked Maxine. “I made some apple turnovers.”

“I can’t manage another bite, thank you.”

“And you, Lee?”

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Raferty grumbled.

“Don’t feel bad, Mr. Raferty,” Pitt said consolingly. “It seems my imagination got the best of me also. Finding pieces of an aircraft in the middle of the mountains … I naturally thought they came from a crash site.”

“Men can be such children sometimes.” Max gave Pitt a little-girl smile. “I hope you enjoyed your lunch.”

“Fit for a gourmet,” Pitt said.

“I should have cooked the Rocky Mountain oysters a little longer, though. They were a bit on the rare side. Didn’t you think so, Lee?”

“Tasted okay to me.”

“Rocky Mountain oysters?” asked Pitt.

“Yes, you know,” said Maxine. “The fried bull testicles.”

“You did say ‘testicles.’ “

“Lee insists I serve them at least two times a week.”

“Beats hell out of meat loaf,” Lee said, suddenly laughing.