“I couldn’t understand half what she was blubbering about, she was so overwrought.” He made an angry gesture of dismissal, as if to shove the whole tangle out of his mind for the time being. “You can ask her yourself, if you hustle; she only left for Iceville ten minutes ago. Keith won’t have that kind of cash on him, either. Take him a while to get it.”
“Going to South America, is she?”
“She babbled about Montreal, Havana, London. But her company’s going to Brazil, so I s’pose she’ll head there. She did say it made absolutely no damn difference where she went; she’d be hunted just the same.”
“Hunted? Yair.” She’d been warned about keeping away from cops; now she couldn’t go to them for protection.
“I told her she better hike straight to a hospital, get some rest. She thought I meant maybe she was cracking up. ‘No, Jeff, I’m not going mad.’” He did a good job of imitating her. “‘I wish I could go mad. It would be better than having to think of the terrible thing I’ve done.’ What you going to do with a star who hands you a line like that?”
“You have other problems, too.” I waved at the Munchie rehearsals.
“Hell, yes.” He added in the surliest tone, “Don’t go quoting me as saying she confessed.”
“I won’t.”
“She didn’t.”
He was afraid he’d said too much.