“Wife know about Carey?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, she knew he had an assistant. But I don’t think she knew he was fucking her.”
5 7
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“He do this often?” Jesse said.
“Yeah. Walton liked women. He married three of them. He probably cheated on them all.”
“What was he doing up here?”
Lutz shook his head.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Carey did all that stuff. I just protected him.”
“You didn’t know ahead of time?” Jesse said. “How’d you know if there would be security issues?”
“I wasn’t the Secret Service,” Lutz said. “Hell, Walton wasn’t the president, either. If he was going someplace to give a speech or whatever, Carey would notify the local cops and they’d do what they thought they should do. I was just along to see that no one assaulted him on the sidewalk or whatever.”
“Which you look like you can do,” Jesse said.
“Which I can,” Lutz said. “But tell you the truth, I think part of it was that Walton just liked having a bodyguard around. Good for his image.”
“Ever any trouble.”
“A few drunks,” Lutz said. “A few protesters.”
“Sometimes one and the same,” Jesse said.
Lutz grinned.
“You got that right,” he said.
“Any big trouble?”
“No.”
“You and he get along?” Jesse said.
“Sure. Once we both got it that I was a bodyguard, not 5 8
H I G H P R O F I L E
somebody who runs errands, or makes coffee, or gets you a dinner reservation.”
Jesse nodded.
“You have any idea why they ended up dead in my town?”
Jesse said.
“No,” Lutz said.
“Hate mail, death threats, warnings, anything like that?”
Lutz shook his head. “None that he shared with me.”
“Who would he share them with?”
“Carey, maybe. She probably handled his personal mail. His manager would have handled the, you know, publicfigure mail.”
