Trial Junkies

Hutch just shook his head. 'Anyway, it's been a bit of a roller coaster, but I'm finally on steady ground.'

Tom smiled. 'It's funny, but you aren't the only one riding that roller coaster. You've pretty much summed up exactly the way we've been feeling.'

Matt looked surprised. 'Seriously?'

Monica said, 'Do you know how many meals we've shared with Ronnie. How many times we've laughed together? Cried? So what if we haven't seen each other in a few years? She's still Ronnie and God knows she's never judged me.' She paused. 'I'm ashamed I ever doubted her.'

They sat in silence a moment, then Hutch said, 'So we're all in agreement now? That she didn't kill Jenny?'

Nods around the table.

'So then the question remains,' he said. 'Who the hell did?'

— 23 -

They spent the entire meal contemplating the question.

Hutch told them how he had sat in the courtroom, looking around at the faces of the spectators in the gallery, wondering if any of them could be the culprit-as Waverly had suggested.

The idea seemed pretty ludicrous on its surface, but it was an intriguing one.

Monica said, 'I think Ronnie may have been right. That this was a random murder. Some slasher who saw Jenny and killed her to get his rocks off.'

'Which makes it unlikely he'd be in the courtroom,' Tom said. 'Why would he bother?'

'Why else?' she snorted. 'To get his rocks off again. Relive the moment. Trust me, I've been running a cam girls website long enough to see some pretty screwed up people.'

They all thought about that, then Hutch said, 'That's only one of the possibilities. Do any of you know if Jenny had any enemies?'

Matt shook his head. 'Not that I can think of. But we weren't exactly bosom buddies anymore. What about you, Andy? You were probably the last one of us to talk to her.'

Andy looked surprised. 'You know about that?'

'Ronnie told us. Said Jenny told her.'

'That was a few months back. But it was just a phone call. I was trying to see if she knew how to get hold of Hutch.'

'You sure it wasn't more than that?'

Andy frowned. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Nothing,' Matt said. 'It's not important.'

'Well you sure as hell meant something by it. So why don't you illuminate us?'

Matt suddenly looked uncomfortable. 'It was just a stupid joke. I know you always had a thing for her, so…'

Andy's face reddened. 'So… what? Now all of a sudden I'm a suspect?'

'That's not what I meant.'

'Then why even bother bringing it up?'

Matt seemed at a loss for words, but Andy was all too happy to supply them.

'I get it,' he said. 'Sweet little Ronnie can't be the bad guy, but that Andy, he's got killer written all over him, right? Jesus Christ, Matt, I thought we were friends.'

Remembering his own suspicions-and not feeling good about it-Hutch held his hands up. 'Take it easy, man, nobody thinks you're-'

'Excuse me, I gotta take a leak.'

Andy gestured and Monica slipped out of the booth. Everyone was silent as he stepped past her and headed across the room toward a sign marked RESTROOMS. Hutch could tell by his walk that he was too pissed off for words.

And who could blame him?

Hutch looked at Matt. 'Aren't you gonna go apologize?'

Matt shrugged. 'For what? I never said I thought he killed her. That's just Andy getting his back up like he always does. He'll get over it.'

'You're his best friend, man.'

'Believe me, I'm well aware that. It's a burden I've lived with for years.'

'Fine,' Hutch said. 'I'll go talk to him.'

Tom got out of his way and he climbed out and crossed the room to a short hallway, heading for a door marked GENTLEMEN. When he got inside, Andy was at the urinal, doing his business.

Hutch said, 'You okay, man?'

'Me? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just standing here thinking about who my next victim'll be.'

'Look,' Hutch said, 'Matt wasn't accusing you of anything.'

'Whatever.' He zipped up, flushed, then moved to the sink and started rinsing his hands. 'But I want it on record that I'm not the only jerk sitting at that table.'

'Duly noted.'

They were silent as Andy reached for a paper towel, then Hutch said, 'By the way, I've been meaning to tell you, I read your script when I was back in L.A.'

Andy turned. 'I've been wondering about that. Figured you didn't like it.'

'Actually, it's pretty damn good. I sent it to a friend of mine, a Swedish director who does crime thrillers, looking to break into the American market. I figured it was right up his alley.'

Andy's face lit up. 'Seriously? Are you fucking with me?'

'He's got some juice, so if he likes what he sees you may get lucky.'

'That's fantastic! Jesus.'

'You got talent, man. A lot more than I ever will. Don't ever let anyone tell you different.'

Andy suddenly went quiet. It may have been a trick of the light, but it looked as if he had tears in his eyes. Then he quickly finished drying his hands and held one out, saying, 'Thanks, man, I really appreciate this.'

Hutch shook it. 'I just call 'em like I see 'em.' He paused as a thought occurred. 'You have anything against writing for television?'

'Uh… no. Why would I?'

'If you want, I can pass the script along to some of the show runners I know, see if it can generate some TV work.'

Andy stood there looking shell shocked.

'Just be warned,' Hutch said. 'This business is full of asshats who'll use and abuse you without a second thought.'

'Ha,' Andy barked. 'That's true of every job I've ever had.'

'Point taken. Now get the hell out of here before people start talking.'

His friend smiled and thanked him again, then headed outside as Hutch stepped over to the urinal and unzipped. He'd had two root beers during lunch and felt as if he were about to burst.

He stood there ruminating on the simple pleasure of taking a much needed pee, when a toilet flushed and the booth door flew open. A young guy with a crewcut and thick, black-rimmed glasses emerged, stepping toward the sink. Hutch remembered him from the courthouse, one of the trial junkies who regularly sat in on Ronnie's trial. The pasty-looking guy he'd pegged as the creepy next door neighbor.

He had a large hardback book tucked under his arm, which he shoved into his book bag and set on the counter as he washed his hands with more soap than he needed. He spent a good half minute or so, scrubbing them thoroughly, as Hutch zipped and flushed and waited to use the sink.

The guy glanced in the mirror, and for a moment, their gazes met. And in that moment, Hutch felt a sudden