The sickening reality settles in my body. “She did the same thing to me. She told me she liked her space, and I could never let myself get close enough to question her.”
“Neither could I.”
As the magnitude of what we’re admitting to each other sinks in, one jagged piece stands out.
“Which Killer Body trainer got her the drugs?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Some guy with a funny name.”
“Lucas?” My mouth is so parched that I can barely speak.
He shakes his head, as if impatient to connect to the memory. “Something weirder, like a color. Beige? No, that’s not right.”
“Blond?” I offer.
“Yes, that’s the guy. Blond Elvis. If those sudden drops in weight didn’t bring on the heart attack, they had to weaken her. What did she do on those days we were apart? Binge?”
“Or get her weight back down.” I shudder as the possibilities float through my mind. “It’s not your fault, Pete, and it’s not my fault. We have to keep reminding each other of that.”
He grabs my arm and nods, and although he cannot speak the words, I know he understands.
Then, Troy Pacheco’s fist connects; the man in black goes down. And as the victory is counted down, the crowd surges to its collective feet in a mantra ofViva Troy, Viva Troy.Because it is expected and somehow easier than remaining seated, I stand, too, Pete beside me.
We don’t talk about it again. We don’t need to. Pete goes off for another beer while we wait for the next match. Someone moves close to me. I smell cigarettes, beer. I turn into the harsh whisper. “Some people get the best seats in the house.”
“Den.” My first reaction is guilt. I’ve begged him to let me stay on this story. Now, here I am, at a boxing match.
I want to hug him, want to sob out everything I’ve just learned. Before I can, Den Hamilton’s flushed face breaks into an embarrassed smile. “I came with a date. Couldn’t believe it when I saw you here.”
Date ?Well, why not? The newspaper doesn’t say its editors can’t date, only that they can’t date the reporters they supervise. I crane my neck to see if there’s a solitary woman standing nearby, but it’s impossible with this crowd. “I haven’t been in town long, but I’ve got good stuff for you.”
“Lord, woman, when do you sleep?”
I ignore the compliment, wanting to prove to him that I’ve been making progress. “I found where Julie Larimore’s from. I’m going back there tomorrow.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Why not? The town doesn’t close up on weekends.”
“Want some company?” he asks.
“I’m leaving early in the morning.” I feel myself blush as I say it, asking questions with the implication that they are none of my business.
He flushes for both of us. “The earlier, the better. Shall we take my car?”
“It’s probably better if you ride with me and fly back,” I say. “I need to go to San Diego Monday. There’s a medical clinic there I need to check out.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
The admiration in his voice warms me, makes me realize how emotionally numb my conversation with Pete has left me.
“I can’t give up,” I say. “This clinic, Den. Tania Marie told me she saw Julie Larimore there, at least someone she thought was Julie Larimore.”
“She couldn’t tell? Was Julie in some kind of disguise?”
“Just dark glasses, but that wasn’t the problem. She said Julie was huge.”
He frowns, and I can see him trying to make sense of it, recalling the image on the Killer Body poster. “Overweight, you mean?”
