Rebecca Schwartz 05 - Other People's Skeletons

thinks he gave some to the Dunsons. It would certainly explain his vow of poverty.”
    “How about the vow of chastity?”
    “There’s a question, huh? I don’t know if we’ll ever get to the bottom of it, but one thing’s obvious. This was a guy who was eaten up with guilt. That’s what his whole life was about. Guilt. Being manipulated by Adrienne. Giving everything he made to the Dunsons. Not being able to get on with it. I think that whole A Team/B Team thing was about that. He wanted the A-Team women, but he didn’t think he deserved them.” She gave me a weird look and started to focus.
    “Chris, please don’t close your eyes while you’re driving.”
    “Oh, don’t worry. It just sounded so right I was seeing if I could get a little open-eye hit.”
    “Did you?”
    “Well, no. I’ll try it later with my eyes closed. Anyway, it might have been more than that. Maybe he didn’t consciously think he didn’t deserve them. Maybe his body made certain decisions for him.”
    “Meaning he couldn’t get it up.”
    “Meaning exactly that.”
    “But what he did with the B Team was pretty cruel.”
    “Well, maybe he didn’t feel too good about it. He did have that episode with Tami the prostitute. Maybe he was trying to see if that would work.”
    “I guess it didn’t, though.”
    “The women he did get involved with were broken wings, just like him. I don’t know what a shrink would do with that.”
    “Well, I think I can almost get it,” I said. “If he identified with them, then they were bound to keep getting hurt. Because that was
his
life.”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know. But that couldn’t-get-it-up business sure sounds likely. I mean—”
    I laughed and finished for her, “Knowing men and all.”
    But the other part would remain forever as mysterious to us as it had probably been to Jason.
    “What in the hell are we going to do about Adrienne?” she said.
    “Well, I don’t know that we have to do anything. The cops are probably looking for her already. If they aren’t now, they will be after we tell them what Michael said.”
    “Actually, uh— could you indulge me?”
    I was getting a sinking feeling. “Indulge you how?”
    “I had the group read about it. I think we have to find her.”
    “Why?”
    “I don’t know why. They said it was the right action.”
    I didn’t say anything, thinking it through.
    “I’m involved in this thing, and I can’t just drop out. She may have committed murder with my car and tried to frame me. I can’t explain it exactly— it’s not revenge or anything— I just need to bring the thing full circle.”
    Well, hell. I had crazy obsessions too— usually involving far more trivial matters than this one. “Far be it from me,” I said, “to argue with the cosmos.”
    “Thanks.” Her shoulders sagged, signaling how tense they’d been, how much she’d needed me to say yes.
    “There’s only one thing— we don’t know where to look. Or did the Raiders tell you?”
    “I wish.”
    “Well, let’s go get some cappuccino and see if it jogs anything.”
    “You lawyers. Drugs, drugs, drugs.” I didn’t see her arguing, though.
    The stuff didn’t make us brilliant, but it did get us jump-started.
    Assessing what we had to go on, there were only two possible leads— Adrienne’s dad and Danno. Since her dad had reported her missing, it didn’t seem likely he was hiding her. So Danno first, if we could find him. We called Rob for his address, but he wasn’t home.
    In that case, there was one thing to do— go back to Adrienne’s apartment, the one she’d shared with Jason, and look for a Rolodex. Rob and I had broken in once before, and I had no doubt I could do it again.
    Chris was appalled but invaluable at boosting me through the window, which, in the excitement, no one had thought to board up. She climbed in after me, and our noses told us immediately that this was an unlived-in place, a place starting to mildew and settle into its own bacterial, mossy smells. A quick check revealed we were right— if Adrienne had been back, there was no sign of it.
    There was no Rolodex, though, either in the bedroom or the living room. Impatient, I went into the kitchen to call Rob again on the wall phone in there. A list of ten numbers programmed into the phone had been stuck neatly underneath a plastic envelope provided on the receiver. Number One was “Jason at work,” Number Two was “Dad,” and Number Three was