Rebecca Schwartz 05 - Other People's Skeletons

Listen, I really need you.”
    “Well, look, it doesn’t make sense. You’re leading some secret life with a bunch of screwballs from the space bar in Star Wars , and you think it’s okay to laugh at some gorgeous hunk who’s trying to get in touch with his manhood.”
    Which just showed how shell-shocked I was. I would have taken his announcement a lot more in the vein she had if she hadn’t been such a little trailblazer.
    “Well, I mean! Julio. Who wouldn’t like to get in touch with his manhood?” She laughed a little more and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, I guess it was the thought of him naked. I must have felt like dwelling on it.”
    “He’s too short for you.”
    “Anyway, about the Star Wars cast— begging your pardon, but they’re the only ones who couldn’t have killed Jason. I was with them, remember?”
    “Oh, yeah.” I thought a minute. Maybe I was still a little mad with her, maybe just emboldened by her giggle fit. Before I could stop the words, I said, “Well, goddammit, if you’re so psychic, why don’t you know who did it?”
    “It’s not that easy.”
    I fixed her with a stem eye. “Keep talking.”
    “The stuff’s not all that reliable.”
    “How does it work, anyway?”
    “You have to know what questions to ask, for one thing.”
    “How about this one: ‘Did Tommy La Barre kill Jason McKendrick?’”
    She shrugged. “Why the hell not?” She closed her eyes and dropped her chin. When she opened her eyes, she looked amazed. “Well, he might not have. I didn’t think I’d get anything, because it’s impossible to read for yourself. But I did get a little something. It looked a lot like ‘innocent.’”
    “Does it come in images or what?”
    “Sometimes. I get lights mostly. Tommy just didn’t light up over that one.”
    “Where do you think it’s coming from? Are you reading his mind or what?”
    “I wish to hell I knew.” For a moment she looked as miserable as when she’d first told me about it.
    “Well, back to the original subject.”
    “Who hates me.”
    “Look, somebody had to know you were in that group. They had to steal your car, remember?”
    “They just followed me. I’m sure that was all it was.”
    “Even so. You can’t get around the fact they went to a lot of trouble to frame you. If it wasn’t Tommy La Barre, who? Who, who, who?”
    “I’m getting depressed.”
    “You’ve got to face it, Chris. Somebody wanted you to take the rap for murder. That’s a lot of animosity.”
    “I’m getting depressed again. Can’t we get Julio to come do a naked dance for us?”
    I didn’t answer.
    Finally, she said, “Maybe it was a crazy person.”
    “Do you know any?”
    “Well, La Barre didn’t act normal that time when he threatened me, but now that I think of it, you know what? I’ll bet he was doing a lot of coke at the time. I wonder if he still is.”
    “If so, that would qualify him as crazy.”
    “He might be the only one I know. But you know one, of course— the Cosmic Blind Date.”
    “Oh. Roger DeCampo. But it can’t be him— he doesn’t know you. La Barre suggested Jason might have attracted one— like in Play Misty for Me. ”
    “But it would still have to be somebody who knows me too.”
    Good. She’d accepted that. Suddenly I said, “Have you ever heard of a Sarah Byers?”
    “No. Why?”
    “Oh. I thought for a minute I might be onto something.”
    “You know, now that I think of it, it had to be somebody who knew something about stealing cars— they must have had a slim jim, and they must have known how to hot-wire.”
    “Sounds right.”
    “But I don’t know anybody like that.”
    I was quiet, trying to think where to go from here. Finally Chris said, “I wonder if I should try something.”
    “What?”
    “You’ll think it’s crazy, but I don’t know, it couldn’t hurt.”
    “What, for Christ’s sake?”
    “Maybe I could get the group together.”
    “Group?” I was drawing a blank.
    “You know. The Raiders. Maybe we could come up with something.”
    She was right. It couldn’t hurt.

Chapter Eleven
    Chris was taking the morning off, still going through clips, but I could allow myself no such luxury. I had to get some work done, or that was the way it felt before I got to the office. Once ensconced, I found very nearly all I could do was fret. I picked up the phone to call the doctor, and before I’d dialed, I’d convinced myself I was making a fool of myself. There was really no