Jack positioned a pad and lifted Demarco's good hand up to it. "Hold this for a second."
He did as he was told, robotic, and Jack unwound the gauze and wrapped, fanning out from Demarco's armpit until the pad was secure. "OK. That's good."
Demarco released and let his hand fall. The pain was now only an inner echo of his pulse. His head was clearing as Jack continued to wrap the bandage thick enough to hold.
"If you do me one on the other side just as thick, I could play Diahann Carroll in Dynasty... like when I was little."
Jack finished, more relaxed now that the immediate task was completed. He placed his hands on Demarco's knees and looked him in the eyes. "You don't strike me as a Dominique Deveraux," he said.
Demarco gawked.
"Yes, I watched Dynasty..." Jack said. "...when my parents weren't paying attention. Don't be so surprised. Steven Carrington was hot... and even though I was a kid, my pre-pubescent gaydar was all over that."
"You never cease to surprise me, Mr. Keegan. So, now... what's the news?"
Jack stood, returning the supplies back to the bathroom counter. "Kip says they have a lead on a guy. Several misdemeanors involving traffic and marijuana. One felony account of assault."
"Sounds alittlesketchy, but still..." Demarco said.
"Hold on. Get this—he's somewhat of a reality show junkie."
"Isn't most of America?"
"No. What I mean is... he's been a contestant on several shows."
"Interesting."
"Yeah. Nothing that popular. Just one-shot seasons, mostly. But he was on several way back when, and then went on to work behind-the-scenes for production companies tied with TLC, Bravo, and E!—the usual suspects. He seems to have run the gamut for that type of work—but nomadic, never staying anywhere long... which suggests he wasn't the greatest of employees."
"What's his name?"
"Jonathan Clark."
"Never heard of him."
"That's his real name. His stage name was Colt Lancaster."
"Speaking of Dynasty..." Demarco laughed. "Still don't know him. But it does sounds more like a TV personality."
"...or a porn star." Jack added, returning with his phone and sitting on the bed next to him. He tapped five words into Google:Colt, Lancaster, Jonathan, Clark, reality. Several old links surfaced, featuring forgotten TV titles and copy. He clicked above on Images, and multiple shots of the same guy appeared, mostly cast shots on forgotten television programs.
"Oh, my God. He was onMr. Magnetism... with MONICA LEWINSKY." Demarco said, heavy emphasis on the former Clinton intern.
Jack cut him a side glance—part amusement, part perplexity.
"Don't judge me."
Jack clicked on Lancaster's IMDB link. He scrolled to the bottom, then worked his way up chronologically. The first credit listed was in the early 2000s—Fear Factoron NBC, followed by the Lewinsky show on FOX. But as Lancaster's resume continued to roll, the production quality of the shows lessened, budgets shrank, and the networks and channels were less noteworthy... tapering even further into obscurity.
"That's a lot of stuff I've never heard of," said Demarco. "Marry My Sister?... Eat, Drink, and Be Scary?... Dude, Where's My Job?... I mean,really?"
"D, there's a reason you haven't heard of any of these. They suck."
"And then it stops around 2010."
"Which means he ran out of opportunity," Jack said. "But not entirely. He likely met people on these productions, made contacts. If he had a good reputation, it would have led to other types of jobs within the same industry."
"A man's gotta eat," Demarco said, leaning in and resting his chin on Jack's shoulder.
