Rebecca Schwartz 05 - Other People's Skeletons

looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.
    “Are they real or not?”
    “Who cares?”
    “If you met someone who believed in them, would you think they were crazy?”
    He thought about it. “Well, I did meet someone like that— girlfriend of a buddy of mine. Said she got abducted, the whole bit.”
    “And was she crazy?”
    He shrugged. “Seemed pretty sane, now that I think of it. Why are we talking about this?”
    “It’s kind of on my mind.”
    “Well, something’s on mine.”
    “What?”
    “Rob Burns. Your old boyfriend.”
    “You mean my spending time with him?”
    “Of course. What do you think I mean? It bothers me.”
    “You’re jealous?”
    He considered. “Yeah. I think I’d have to say I am.”
    I laughed, delighted. “Well, I’m flattered.”
    “You’re not taking this seriously.”
    “Oh. Well, I guess I don’t really understand it yet. It’s business— you understand that.”
    “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
    Honestly, I didn’t blame him. There was a spark between Rob and me. But on the one hand, it was certainly no threat to Julio. And on the other, I didn’t have the least idea how to reassure him.
    “I appreciate your telling me,” I said. “But I don’t know what I can do about it.”
    He linked his fingers and put his hands behind his head. He was silent, a truly bad sign. Julio had one of the sunniest dispositions I’d ever encountered.
    At least he wasn’t mad enough to go home. But it might have been better if he had— eventually I had to tell him I had to get some sleep because Rob and I were getting together first thing in the morning. He slept with his back toward me.

Chapter Five
    Ragusin had invited us for eight-thirty.
    What kind of fanatic, I wondered, got up that early on a Saturday? In fact, she wasn’t home— probably, I remarked to Rob, jogging an extra mile just because she felt like it. I was glad we had a few minutes— something was bothering me.
    “Rob,” I said, “I’ve got to take a more active role in the interviews— I hope you don’t mind, but it has to work that way.” I’d felt terribly out of control on the one with Adrienne.
    “I don’t think we can do that. Nobody’s going to talk to the lawyer of the main suspect.”
    “First, nobody knows that’s who I am. And second, you know they would. People will talk to anybody.” He grumbled a little, but eventually I won. He didn’t have a choice, really— I could walk, and right now, since we both had the names we’d gotten from Adrienne, he needed me more than I needed him.
    When Ragusin appeared, it wasn’t on foot, it was in a zippy little Alfa, out of which she popped in black jeans and black T-shirt, looking a trifle the worse for wear. We introduced ourselves.
    “Let’s go have coffee,” she said. “Or you can. I’m going to bed pretty soon— I’m a night worker.”
    She had a cozy cottage in which she could brew a mean cup of coffee. We sat on wicker furniture while she yawned and talked about herself and Jason.
    She wasn’t wearing makeup, but even so, I could tell she fit the type he was known to date— very beautiful, very sophisticated. She was probably a little older than Jason, about forty maybe, with a good figure, a little on the thin side, black hair cut in layers, and curious hazel eyes that were almost gold sometimes. Her skin was white and fragile looking. She was probably one of the last people in California who still smoked.
    She pulled a cigarette out of her mouth and stared at it. “Sorry about this. I’ve got a high pressure job. Can’t seem to stop.”
    “What do you do?”
    “Disc jockey. All that ad-libbing. Stress city.”
    “How’d you meet Jason?”
    She shrugged. “Some party, I guess. I was the perfect date for him— available for anything before midnight; and then, instant pumpkin.”
    She sucked at her cigarette as if she were angry.
    “Why was that perfect?”
    She gave Rob a good hard stare. “Well, I’ll tell you because it might be important. But it’s definitely not for the paper.”
    Rob nodded. “We’re off the record.”
    “He didn’t, uh … he wasn’t interested in sex.” She was a woman who got right down.
    “How long did you date?”
    “A couple of months, I guess. He was a great date—attentive, courteous, always took me interesting places. But it never came to more than that— I mean, no Saturday hikes, no Sunday brunches, no hanky, and no panky. It was like he needed me for a