Dead Demon Walking (29 page)

We sat in silence for a few
heartbeats. Jericho met my eyes. “When did this come to light? Why
didn’t Detective Spacer call me? Where are Jack’s . . .
remains?”

“
I don’t know,” I lied,
using every atom of willpower to look him in the eyes and not
appear guilty.

“
What
do
you know?”

He sounded angry now, but I expected
that. Grief tosses you all over the emotional spectrum.

Nothing for it. I joined my hands atop
the table - I no idea how to go about this. “Brad Spacer gave . . .
mentioned me because I’m good at what I do. He also knows I have a
talent which often gives me an edge over other investigators. Did
he mention that?”

“
No.”

“
I find victims of violent
crimes. I’m the last resort when the cops are stumped. Not that I
was involved in their investigation of Trewellyn’s disappearance, I
didn’t live in Utah back then.”

“
But you found Jack after I
came to you? Just like that? How, when everyone else
failed?”

“
I’m psychic, Mr. Jericho.
I talk to the dead. I talked to Jack.”

There, I said it.
Whew.

Poor man. Obviously, from his twisted
expression, trying to process the little I told him screwed with
his brain.

Then his face smoothed out. He gazed
into a distance I couldn’t see, barked out a sound of disbelief and
looked back with a curl to his lips. “I can’t believe I’m hearing
this,” he murmured as he shook his head.

“
Mr. Jericho, I know -
”

“
Miss Banks, I know, and
have known for some time, Jack must be dead. I wanted proof so I
could let him go. Therefore, when the police failed me I sought
other avenues of . . . investigation. I even went to a medium. He
gave me messages from Jack. I knew him for a charlatan half an hour
into his performance.”

He took me by surprise when he surged
to his feet, lips a shade away from white, eyes steely with anger.
I thought he was coming at me over the table. His voice rose
harshly. “And now you have the gall to try the same trick on
me!”

I shoved my chair back. “Jack. This
was your idea. You can step in any time. Help me out, will
you?”

Jack spoke from behind me. “We were
ten. The Eagles Lodge had a big shindig. I dared him to sneak in
and steal some fancy cookies. He knocked a dish off the counter,
cut his hand. We told his parents he broke a dish at his house. We
smashed one of his mom’s saucers and smeared his blood on it,
because getting inside the Lodge was breaking and entering and he’d
be in big trouble.”

“
Eagles Lodge,” I said
loudly. “Broken dish.”

Eyes fixed on mine, Jericho slowly
sank down on his chair.

I repeated what Jack had said in full,
then kept quiet as Jericho absorbed it.

“
There are better ways to
handle this. I expect the poor man doesn’t know what to think,” Mel
said.

Easy for her to say, but she was
right. I should have decided exactly what to say before he
arrived.

Jericho dropped his gaze to fisted
hands. “I don’t want to believe that, but how else could you know
about the Lodge? We told no one.”

His posture changed, became
alert. I could read his mind
: Unless Jack
told someone else, and they told me, and this was a
scam.

“
I know it’s difficult to
believe, but what I do is no secret down at Clarion PD.” Except
they don’t know I can summon the dead, because I can’t.

“
You mean to say Jack is
here?” he said. “You were talking to him just then? What did you
mean when you said ‘this was your idea’?”

“
To see you again. He wants
this meeting.”

I glanced at Jack to see him with both
palms stuck to his mouth. “I think he’s eager to speak to you. What
do you say?”

He sounded weary now. He didn’t
believe me, he humored me. “How do I talk to a dead
man?”

I blundered on. “I’m the go-between.
Jack can hear you; I tell you what he says.” Now I sounded like a
phony, the sideshow clairvoyant with her crystal ball. I could say
anything, and he was supposed to take on faith I wasn’t a
scam-artist.

“
Just do it,” Jack said
from near my right shoulder.

“
He doesn’t believe me,
Jack.”

“
He’ll change his mind when
we get going.”

“
You called him Trewellyn
or Jackson before - now it’s Jack,” Jericho commented, voice laced
with cynicism.

Um.
“I feel familiar with him now.”

“
And how,” from
Mel.

“
Tell him to ask me
something,” Jack said.

I spoke to Jericho reluctantly. He
didn’t trust me. As I predicted, this had turned into a farce.
“Jack wants you to ask a question.”

Considering, Jericho pursed his lips.
“Very well. Ask him how he died.”

Now I knew for sure he didn’t believe
me. A man this sensitive to the loss of his friend would not ask
that casually. “He can hear you, Mr. Jericho. I don’t need to ask
him.”

“
But you need to tell me
what he says.”

The statement sounded like an
accusation. Nope, not going at all well.

Jack stared right at Jericho and spoke
to him, not me. “I was murdered,” he said dramatically.

“
He was
murdered.”

Jericho didn’t blink an eye. “Ask him
how.”

“
Talk to me, not her!” Jack
said, swinging both hands up in irritation.

Yes, this acting the medium was
awkward. I offered Jericho a halfhearted smile. “Jack says talk to
him, not me.”

“
Do you know how ridiculous
you sound?” Jericho said.

I stiffened my spine.
“
Mr
. Jericho, I’m
doing this as a favor to you and Jack,” I pointed my index finger
at the hallway, “but it’s all the same to me if you walk out the
door and I never see nor hear from you again.”

He rose up. “I think it’s for the
best, don’t you?”

Jack shot past me and stopped inches
away from Jericho. He butted his head at him and put hands to hips.
“Don’t you dare walk out on me again!”

I stood. “Forget it, Jack.”

No, I wasn’t angry, but I’d had
enough. Never should have let Jack talk me into it in the first
place. Stupid idea.

“
Tell him what I said,”
Jack told me.

I sighed. “Jack said, don’t you dare
walk out on him again.”

Jericho went still. “What?”

I repeated it.

“
I wasn’t the one who
walked out,” he said.

“
Excuse me?” said Jack as
he flapped his hands before putting them back on his hips. “Who
took off to Pinkie’s in a snit?”

Again, I repeated Jack’s words, and
suddenly they were having a conversation with no guidance from me.
Jericho fixed his gaze on a point halfway across the kitchen, not
on me. He spoke as if he heard Jack’s voice, not mine repeating
what Jack said.

“
And who came after me
because he didn’t trust me?”

Jack made a noise in his throat. “I
did, but silly me, how stupid was that? You were having way too
much fun without me.”

“
I made a new friend, but
you had to make a big deal out of it.”

“
A guy feeling you up
wasn’t a big deal?”

“
You saw what you wanted to
see.”

“
You think I
wanted
to see another
guy’s hands all over you? What am I saying, those weren’t hands,
they were tentacles!”

I sat down hard.

Dale sounded world-weary. “Jack, it
was innocent.”

“
Innocent? With Mr. Muscles
clinging to you like Saran Wrap?” I mumbled for Dale’s
benefit.

“
Bullshit! You couldn’t see
past the green-eyed-monster!”

“
Honey, you couldn’t see
past the bulge in his pants.”

“
Son of a bitch. You’re
gay,” I said.

Silent, Jack and Dale looked at me and
although Dale could not see Jack, he moved toward his old friend as
Jack stepped to meet him. As if they drew together for comfort, or
defense.

Why the drama? So they were gay, no
big deal.

Wrong. Homosexuality was
a
huge
deal in
Utah when Jack was alive.

Knowing that, their story made sense.
Like many Utah gays back then, they pretended to be straight to
avoid stigma and condemnation, and out-and-out persecution was not
uncommon. But New York City was already more accepting. That’s why
Jericho left a promising career.

The tragedy of their lives struck me
anew. If only they had stayed in New York City, Jack would be
alive, and maybe they would have twenty-four years of togetherness
under their belts. New York is so much kinder to gays than good old
Utah, which is still a challenge for those who want to make a life
here.

And I had no idea. But how could
I?

“
Why didn’t you tell me?” I
almost asked Jack, but turned my head to Jericho just in
time.

“
What does it have to do
with Jack’s murder?” Jericho kneaded his hands together. “Was it a
hate crime?”

“
I don’t have an answer for
either those questions. But if I’d known, I could have asked my
friends in the gay community about Jack.”

“
It was underground back
then, and we weren’t part of it,” Jack growled.

But Jericho thought I meant now. “I
doubt you’d find anyone who remembers me and Jack.”

“
Probably not,” I
conceded.

“
Can we get on with this?”
Jericho asked.

“
You want to
continue?”

“
Oh yes.”

I saw a long day ahead.

***

Jack watched the taillights of Dale’s
car dip over the brow of the hill. He turned away from the window
with a small sigh.

“
Why didn’t you tell me,
Jack?”

“
Humph!
Why should I make an exception for
you?”

Right. Jack hid his homosexuality all
his life, so why should he change after death? I think he and Dale
were reared in conservative homes with certain beliefs drummed in
their heads from an early age. I doubt they disclosed their
conflicting feelings to anyone. And when they were old enough to
understand, pretending they were no different from their friends,
family and coworkers seemed best for all concerned.

What a crying shame they thought they
had to.

***

I shouldn’t have told Royal about Jack
as he sipped coffee. After we cleaned up the spatters on the table
and floor and I mopped at his shirt with a damp cloth, he sat
across from me sniggering.

“
Oh, can it!”

He coughed on another chuckle. “I
cannot believe you didn’t know Jack is gay.”

“
How could I? Despite what
you’ve seen on TV, gay men don’t really stand around dangling limp
wrists, cock their hips all over the place or walk with little
mincing steps.”

I glanced to where Jack stood at the
west windows. With wrist bent to rest the fingertips of one hand on
his cocked hip, he stroked his other index finger over his lower
lip. Catching my gaze, both his hands shot down, stiff at his
sides. He stood erect with shoulders squared and chin
jutting.

I rolled my eyes. “Very macho,
Jack.”

He tossed his head, stuck his nose in
the air and sashayed out the kitchen.

“
And when I think of the
times Jack’s. . . .”

Royal dipped his head and eyed me over
his shades.

“
Ogled me.”

“
Now that makes me mad,” he
said with a smirk. “A man ogles you and I cannot sock him in the
jaw.”

Jack’s voice came from the hall. “I’d
like to see him try.”

I pictured Royal swiping at thin air,
falling all over the place, and had to grin. “Anyway,” I went on,
“they had a row and Dale took off to a gay bar.”

“
Our first gay bar in New
York City,” Jack said as he sidled back in the kitchen. “Our first
gay bar, ever. We were supposed to go together.”

“
And Jack went after him.
Some guy came on to Dale and Jack made a scene.”

“
Me? I asked him to take
his hands off, in a perfectly reasonable tone.”

“
The guy asked Dale if he
should leave, and I guess Dale wanted to ruffle Jack’s feathers,
’cause he said no. So Jack left in high dudgeon. Dale followed him
back to their hotel where they had the mother of all fights. Jack
returned to Utah and got back his job with Big Powder.”

“
I thought he’d come after
me,” Jack said.

“
You told him over,
finite
, and he shouldn’t
try to find you.”