Page 121 of Killer Body

I feel nothing.

Lucas

Bobbie W was talking to the photos in the gallery again. Lucas didn’t want to hear what he was saying.

He walked up behind him, put a hand on his surprisingly frail shoulder. The one-way conversation stopped in midwhisper.

“How’s it going?” Lucas asked.

“Tough right now.”

Bobby W continued facing straight ahead, his head held aloft, like that of a younger man’s. His neck looked old, folded in tight little pleats. The entire hall smelled of heavy after-shave. Maybe that’s how guys had done it once, just doused themselves in scent, held their heads up and hoped for the best.

“What can I do to make it less tough?” Damn, if he could have talked to his own father this easily.

“I just received some horrible news. It’s not certain, but—” He reached for Lucas to steady himself. His eyes were rimmed in red, the way they were after a bout of drinking, but Lucas could smell no liquor on him, only the cologne, almost medicinal in its intensity.

“What’s happened?”

“Come, sit down, and I’ll tell you. Regardless of the outcome, I’m canceling the competition. I want to see all three girls, not out in public. Somewhere safe, the boat. Ellen’s making the calls right now.”

“Are you sure?” Lucas asked. “What made you change your mind?”

The old man put his head in his hands. “I can’t do this anymore.”

A sickening realization started in his stomach and spread through him. This wasn’t something minor.

“Julie?” he asked, already certain now.

Bobby W nodded, meeting his eyes with a look that could mean only one thing.

“Where?”

“L.A. Harbor. Washed up.” He shook his head. “They want me to identify her, Luke.”

Gabriella

“So, are you going back to him?”

Christopher opened the door of the car for her, and Gabriella slid inside. “In case you failed to notice, I didn’t renew my wedding vows. I just spent the night with the man.”

“Two nights, if I may be picky.” Christopher gave her an indulgent smile but didn’t close the door. “And, last time I checked, the man was your husband.”

She hoped she didn’t look as goony and love-logged as she felt. “Two nights, okay? And the press is going to have a proverbial field day.”

“With you landing on your sweet littlehuaraches,as usual, I might add.”

“They do like a good love story.”

“So do I.”

“I know you do.” She glanced at her watch, as much a distraction as to check the time. “We’d better get moving.”

As was his style, he didn’t mention the subject again. As was her style, it continued to gnaw at her. She’d be glad when this next step was taken. She owed Christopher the truth about her decision.

“Whatever happens, I’m still filling in for John Crosby,” she announced to the silent car. “If I like it, and it likes me. I’m going to try to get my own show.”

“Good for you.”