Several Deaths Later

'Did you ever sleep with somebody and regret it?”

Nothing.

'Did you ever sleep with somebody when it was really somebody else you really wanted to sleep with?”

Nada.

'Did you ever sleep with somebody and all the time pretend it was really somebody else you were sleeping with?'

Tobin said to Cindy McBain, 'Why don't you just shut up?'

'It was only because I was drunk.'

'Right.'

She thought a moment. 'And, well, I guess because of Aberdeen.'

What could he say?

'Well, aren't you going to ask why it was because of Aberdeen?'

'No.'

'C'mon, Tobin. Just ask me.'

'I said no.'

'Then I'll tell you.'

He did something with his fingers then.

'Boy, I wish you could see how childish you look. You really do. Your fingers in your ears.'

Then she reached up and took one finger out of his ear and then she whispered something incredible in it and then she took the other finger out of the other ear and whispered something equally incredible into that one. She smelled of perfume and soft sweet female flesh and real blond hair.

Then she put her mouth on his and pushed him gently back onto the bed in his cabin.

Things happened quickly after that.

'It was a good lesson for me.'

'Right.'

'Well, it was. God, Tobin, I'm glad I'm not as cynical as you.'

'If it was such a good lesson, what did you learn?'

'Well…'

There was silence.

Tobin said, 'So what did you learn?'

'I learned about sincerity.'

'You sound like a contestant on Miss America.'

'That was a cheap remark.'

'Yes, it was and I apologize.'

'You're still jealous and you're still angry.'

'Yes, I am.' Then, 'So you learned about sincerity and what else?'

'I learned I shouldn't do things just to impress other people.'

'So you're never going to tell anybody that you slept with Kevin Anderson, famous TV star?'

'Well…'

'Well, what?'

'Well, only certain people.'

'Such as Aberdeen.'

'Yes, such as Aberdeen. If she wasn't so fat and she didn't have that mustache, then she wouldn't have to live-what's that word?'

'Vicariously.'

'Right. She wouldn't have to live vicariously through me.'

'So in a very real sense, the only reason you slept with him was for her sake.'

'It does make for a more interesting letter.'

'Am I going to be in your letter?'

'Do you want to be in my letter?'

'Only if it's in the most flattering terms.'

She giggled. 'Do you want me to lie?'

When she giggled, he started liking her again, and when he started liking her again he started getting mad at Kevin Anderson for what he'd done to her.

Because sitting there, luxuriant of flesh and wonderful of face, Cindy McBain, Kansas City secretary and purveyor of second-hand thrills to the mountainous Aberdeen, sported a black eye courtesy of Kevin Anderson's fist.

'So tell me again why he hit you?'

'Because the envelope fell out of my purse.'

'And it was a Xerox of a small child's picture?'

'Huh-uh. And when he saw it he just went crazy. He really did. He started accusing me of meddling in his affairs and he said I hadn't had any right to open the envelope and he said if I didn't watch what I was doing I was going to wind up dead like those three other people-and then he just hit me.' She paused. 'Jim-the-Cowboy hit me once. He said in Montana women are hit all the time.'

'Jim-the-Cowboy?'

'I went to a rodeo once and… Well, I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea.'

'God forbid.'

'You think it had anything to do with the killings? The envelope, I mean?'

'I'm wondering.'

Tobin eyed the cardboard box and the brown leather notebook. He'd been back in his room only five minutes when the shamed Cindy McBain had applied supplicant knuckles to his door. He hadn't had a chance to examine any of the things Captain Hackett had given to him and now, in light of Cindy's information about the envelope slid under Kevin Anderson's door, he was very curious.

'Why don't you take a nap?'

'I was hoping you'd say that. Scooch over.'

'No,' Tobin said. 'I mean, in your room. Then I'll pick you up for dinner and the costume party. Around eight or so-all right?'

'You want to get rid of me, don't you?'

He kissed her softly on the mouth-liking her more and more, her odd mix of innocence and corruption- and said, 'Exactly.”

26

7:23 P.M.

Iris Graves must have been lauded by all her grade school teachers for her penmanship. She'd written in a clear, painstaking hand that was nearly beautiful to look at. Toward the front of the book were other stories she was working on, including a rock star who was apparently contemplating a sex change operation or who was, in fact, the gender opposite of the one fans assumed-Iris's ambiguity was at its height here- and then a tale about a senator seeing a starlet and various other juicy but ultimately banal bits. Unfortunately, the words referring to the 'Celebrity Circle' group were the most obscure of all.

Oh, there were plenty of teasers scattered throughout the section headed 'Celebrity Circle.'

Jere Farris end/Cassie McDowell up/Ken Norris rich (see banker Beverly Hills)/Susan Richards 'belle'

Obviously, the key words were 'end' and 'up' and 'banker Beverly Hills' and 'belle' but what the hell could they possibly mean to anybody but Iris Graves?

He paused for a time, rubbing his eyes, cat-lazy, and viewed a few frames of New York Ripper, about which