“Yes,” I said, “but this time don’t give me the freakin’ answer.”
“What’s the Atomic symbol for Mercury?”
“No idea,” I said.
“None?”
“Nope. M-E?”
“No.”
“See, told you I didn’t know the answer.”
“You were right,” he said. “And I was wrong, apparently.”
“Fuck. I’m going to go look it up tonight on the internet, aren’t
I?”
He shrugged.
“And then when I do, I’ll have the answer.”
He took a sip from his coffee.
“But I still don’t have the answer now, but I will soon,” I said.
He yawned a little.
“And since time doesn’t exist, that means I always had the answer.”
He shrugged again and drank the rest of his coffee.
“I’m still not buying any of this shit,” I said.
13.
According to homicide investigators, Amanda Peterson had been returning home from a high school party on the night of her murder.
Returning home at 7:30 p.m.
Isn’t that about the time most parties get started? Perhaps she was going home to fetch something she had forgotten. Perhaps not. Either way, I sniffed a clue here.
Thanks to Mrs. Williams, vice principal extraordinaire, I now had a small list of Amanda Peterson’s known friends from high school. To help facilitate my investigation, Mrs. Williams gave me the home addresses to the three names on the list. I thought that was a hell of a nice gesture on her part, and reminded myself to repay her with one of my most winning smiles.
The first house on the list was a massive colonial with a pitched roof, numerous gables and a wide portico. I pulled into the wrap-around driveway.
The doorbell was answered by a cute teenage girl wearing matching sweatshirt and sweatpants that said UCLA. A girl after my own heart. She was blond, pretty, and quite small, no more than five foot two. Her big blue eyes were filled with intelligence.
“Can I speak with Rebecca Garner?” I asked.
“You got her.”
“My name’s Jim Knighthorse and I’m a private investigator.”
She smiled broadly, and her eyes widened with pleasure. I turned around to see who the hell she was smiling at. Turns out it was me.
“A real private investigator,” she said, clapping.
“In the flesh.”
She turned somber on a dime. “You’re here about Amanda.”
“Yes.”
“Mrs. Williams called and asked if it was okay to give out our address. So I knew you’d be coming by.”
“Are your parents home?”
“No, I’m alone, so maybe we should talk out here.” She stepped through the doorway and shut the door behind her. “My parents said it would be okay for me to talk to you.”
She led me to a wooden rocking bench facing the street. Rebecca, utilizing the full use of the bench, rocked us back and forth. A minute later, I was feeling seasick. I stopped the rocking.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never talked to a real live detective before.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job of it so far.” I pointed at the UCLA logo. “Obviously you’re highly intelligent and wise for your age if you intend to go there.”
She looked down. “My dad went there.”
“He must be highly intelligent and wise himself.”
“He’s a doctor. Intelligent, but I don’t know about wise. Anyway, he’s never home, so I really wouldn’t know.”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“You’re a junior?”
“Yes.”
We were silent. She started rocking again, and I put my foot out to stop it again. She ducked her head and said, “Oops.”
“Were you with Amanda on the last day she was alive?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about the party.”
“We got there around seven. Amanda and I went together because Derrick was working out at the gym, as usual. He’s so boring. He never likes to party. All he ever did was work out, play sports and hang out with Amanda.”
“Did he love Amanda?”
She shifted her weight. The bench creaked slightly. I kept my foot firmly planted. No more swinging today. Rebecca looked away, brushing aside a blond strand that had stuck to her shiny lip gloss.
“Oh, yeah. He loved her a lot.”
“You think he killed her?”
“No.”
“You say that pretty quick.”
“He loved her so much. He would have done anything for her.”
“Was Amanda seeing someone else?”
“No. But at the time, there was another guy who wouldn’t leave her alone.”
“Who?”
“Chris, the guy who threw the party. He’s always liked her.”
“Did she fool around with Chris?”
“No. She never cheated on Derrick. They really did love each other. It was sweet watching the two of them together. They were always together and holding each other and kissing.”
“Tell me about Chris.”
“He’s a senior. Used to play football, but got kicked off the team because he’s an asshole. You like football?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I don’t understand it. Just a bunch of boys jumping on each other.”
“That about sums it up.”
“They kicked him off the team because he was a partier and did drugs and probably never showed up for practice.”
“That’ll do it.”
