Jazz Funeral

to be. But I know her really well. Better than anybody else, I bet, and I didn’t even recognize her.”
    “Did you chase her?”
    “Of course.” He shrugged. “But she’s not that tall and I guess it wasn’t that hard to get lost in the crowd.”
    “Okay. What does she look like now?”
    “New Age. She’s got short blond hair that’s purple in front. And different makeup or something. I don’t know—maybe she had plastic surgery.”
    “You’re absolutely sure this was Melody?”
    “It was Melody’s scar. I know that scar.”
    “Shit.”
    “What?”
    “Oh, nothing. Nothing to do with you.” And everything to do with Andy Fike . She sighed. “Okay. Let’s go find her.”
    “What?”
    “Let’s walk around till we find her.”
    “Okay. Sure.” He seemed delighted to be told what to do. This was a kid who was most comfortable taking orders. In a way, she could see how he and Melody had been attracted to each other—she was the outlaw, he the good citizen; halves of a whole.
    They started to walk, eyes peeled and scanning. Something was bothering Skip. Why was the kid blowing the whistle on Melody? Was the whole thing an elaborate hoax?
    She made him wait while she put in a call to Andy Fike, who was home as usual, and slightly slurred of speech.
    “Andy, how’d Melody look yesterday?”
    “Pretty good, for a chick that’s been through what she has.”
    “Damn you, Andy. Start describing.”
    “Okay, okay, five feet three, skinny, blond, blue eyes.”
    “Anything else about her hair?”
    “Short, purple in front, ugliest thing I ever saw.”
    “I could kill you, you know that?”
    “Hey, you never asked what she looked like—I figured you knew.”
    Sure. But at least Flip wasn’t lying about that part. She caught up with him again. They walked for nearly half an hour, Skip turning over different strategies in her head and coming up with no clever, devious way to confront the kid.
    Oh, hell, she finally decided. Go for the direct approach.
    “Hey, Flip,” she said, “why’d you decide to tell me about this? A lot of kids would have helped their friend get away.”
    He was walking beside her, so she couldn’t see his full face. But his neck turned a good deep red. “Yeah, I know. There’s nothing worse than a snitch.” He paused, apparently finding it hard to talk about. This was a kid who worked so hard to do the right thing, he probably went nuts when a dilemma came along. “I really, really thought about it. I’ve got to say I still don’t know if it’s right or not. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want me turning her in—stands to reason, doesn’t it? But I thought of what she told me her shrink said once—I mean, she was really mad about it, but I know Melody and I think it was true. She said Melody’s her own worst enemy a lot of times. So I thought about all this, and when all’s said and done, she needs to get found. It’s the only way out. Anyway, she got real mad at me when Dr. Richard said that and I kind of agreed with her. I mean, not about everything, but a lot of stuff.”
    He was babbling on and Skip was barely hearing him. She had heard only one word. If Skip had been mad at Andy Fike, that was nothing to the way she was currently feeling about George and Patty. Why in the living hell hadn’t they told her?
    “Her shrink?” she said when Flip paused for breath, aware too late that she’d shrieked the query.
    Flip stared as if she’d gone crazy. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Her shrink. Like a head doctor?”
    “Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?” She knew it was an unreasonable thing to ask, but at this point she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. A teacher had said Melody should be in therapy—why hadn’t she thought to ask if she was? Why hadn’t anyone thought to tell her? Surely if Melody was in touch with anybody, it was her therapist.
    “I’m sorry,” Flip said. “I didn’t know it was important.”
    “Flip, listen, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled—it’s not your fault.”
    “Well, it is partly, I guess.”
    “Come on, forget it. Just tell me who it is.”
    “Dr. Richard,” he said, almost instantly cheered up. “Madeleine Richard.” He pronounced it Ri-SHARD.
    “Thanks. Are you tired of looking around?” They’d now made several complete tours of the fairgrounds, and the crowds were getting thicker by the minute.
    He said, “I have a feeling she split after she saw me.”
    “Okay. Can