Jonathan Kellerman - The Clinic

“Why didn't you return to Vegas, Ted?”

“Bad memories.”

“That the only reason?”

“That's enough. I was the one identified her body, man.” He shook his head and licked his lips.

“You weren't avoiding anyone?”

“Who should I avoid?”

“Mandy's killer.”

“A customer? Why would I avoid him?”

“How do you know he was a customer?”

“I don't, I'm guessing. But what else? Working girls get messed up all the time- who'm I telling? You know. Occupational risk. I warned her.”

“She'd been roughed up before?”

“A mark here and there. Nothing serious. Until.” He touched the Band-Aid again, rubbed his pitted neck.

“Any idea who roughed her up before?”

“Nah. She never gave me names- that was our arrangement.”

“What was?”

“I stayed out of her face and she gave me her spare time.” Twisted smile. “I was into her a lot more than she was into me. Ever seen a picture of her? From before, I mean.”

“Uh-huh,” said Milo.

“Gorgeous, right?”

“The two of you ever live together?”

“Never. That's what I'm trying to tell you. She wanted her own place, her own space.”

“Her own place for work.”

“Yeah,” said Barnaby, louder. Cracking his knuckles, he looked at his fingers sadly. “She was unbelievable. Part Hawaiian, part Polynesian. They're the finest-looking people in the world. At first, I was totally nuts over her, wanted her out of the life, the whole bit. I told her, babe, learn how to deal, the way you look you'll clean up on tips. She laughed, said she had to be her own boss. She loved money, was really into stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Clothes, jewelry, cars. She used to buy a new car every few months, sell it, get another one. Corvettes, Firebirds, BMWs. The last one was a used Ferrari convertible, she got it at one of those car lots outside of town where the losers dump wheels for cash. She used to tool around the Strip in it. I told her you're the first girl I know so into cars. She laughed, said I'm into big engines, Teddy. That's why I like you. ”

The hands started moving again. “So look where it got her.”

A vanload of buzz-cut GIs was disgorged into the casino, laughing like schoolkids. Barnaby stood straighter and stared at the swinging glass door.

“That's all I know, okay? You had to come out here because the same fuckhead did some girl in L.A., right? Same way Mandy was done.”

Milo didn't answer.

“One of those serial killers, right?” said Barnaby. “Figures.”

“What does?”

“They always go after hookers.” Frowning. “Which is what Mandy was, even though she thought of herself as an actress.”

“She tell you she was an actress?”

“Yeah, but half-kidding.” Barnaby looked down at the pavement, bounced one sharp toe against the other.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I pretend to be what the customer wants, Teddy. I'm an actress.”

“She ever do porn movies?”

“Not that I know.”

“No?”

“No!”

“She ever get specific about what kind of pretending?”

“No.”

“Or who she pretended for?”

“When I asked she got pissed, so I stopped asking. Like I said, she kept everything separate.”

Psychic link between call girl and professor. Milo glanced at me.

“She had her place, you had yours, Ted?”

“Right.”

“Where'd you and she get together?”

“Mostly my place.”

“Never hers?”

“Hers on Tuesdays. Her day off.” He licked his lips. “I got another girlfriend, now. She doesn't know about Mandy.” Flexing his fingers. “Only thing she's gonna know now is I signed a lease, and all of a sudden no job.”

“What line of work is your new girlfriend in?”

“Not Mandy's.” The hands were fists again. “Cashier, okay? She works at Thrifty Drug. Not even close to Mandy in the looks department but that's fine with me. She lives out in Indio, we been talking about moving in together.”

“Where'd you meet?”

“Here. What's it matter? At a party.”

“Where'd you meet Mandy?”

“On the floor at my casino. I was good so they put me on the 500-dollar table and she used to hang around there. She played once in a while but I knew what she was after.”

“What?”

“Snagging a high roller. She used to look for the highest pile of chips, edge her way over to the table wearing a low-cut dress, lean over, blow in the guy's ear, you know.”

“Did it work?”

“What do you think?”

“She have regulars?”

“I don't know, man. Can I go?”

“Soon, Ted,” said Milo. “So what you're telling me is in terms of your relationship she called all the shots.”

“I let her,” said Barnaby. “She was gorgeous. But I learned. Like the song. If you wanna be happy, marry an ugly girl.”

“You and Mandy ever talk marriage?”

“Right. Picket fence, two kids, and a fucking station wagon. I told you- she liked stuff. ”

“Clothes and jewelry and cars.”

“Yeah.”

“And coke.”

Barnaby's hands clenched again. He looked upward. “I am not getting into that.”

“Why not?”

“You got no rights on the reservation, I'm just talking to you 'cause I cared about Mandy. I can walk anytime. It's my right.”

“True,” said Milo. “But what happens if I drive over to Cathedral City PD and tell them about your past?”

“What past ?”

“Vegas cops said you and Mandy used heavily and that you were her source.”

“Bullshit.”

“They said after she died you used even more. That's why no one in Vegas wanted you back.”

The sweat on Barnaby's creviced face gave it the look of a fresh-glazed doughnut. He turned his back on us. The scars on his neck stood out like braille. “Why're you doing this to me?”

“I'm not doing anything to you, Ted. I just want to know as much as possible about Mandy.”

“And I'm telling you what I know!”

“I brought up the dope because I'm interested in Mandy's lifestyle.”

“Her lifestyle? What do you think it was? Doing johns!”

“Dope means bad guys. Bad guys hurt people.”

Barnaby didn't answer.

“Did she owe money to anyone?” said Milo.

“I never saw her bankbook.”

“Any of the guys you bought coke from pissed at her?”

“ You say I bought for her.”

“Any bad guys pissed at her?”

“Not that I knew.”

“She trade sex for coke?”

“Not that I knew.”

“And you never set her up to do that?”

“I'm no pimp.”

“Just her spare-time buddy.”

“Look,” said Barnaby, “it wasn't like that. I had nothing over her, she was her own boss. She liked me 'cause I listened to her. I'm a good listener, okay? Work the casinos, you hear sad stories all day long.”

“What were Mandy's problems?”

“She didn't have any that I saw.”

“Happy girl.”

“Seemed to be.”

“And you have no idea who her regulars were?”

“No.”

“The night she was killed, did she say anything about who she was going to meet?”

Barnaby massaged his neck. “You're not getting it. She never said anything about work.”

“You told Vegas you were working that night.”

“I didn't have to tell them. Tons of people saw me. I didn't even find out about her being killed until the next day when I called her and some cop picked up the phone. They asked me to drive over to the station. Then they asked me to go to the morgue and identify her.”

“Did she work anywhere else but her apartment?”