GOOD MAP. GENE had always been precise.
The Hollywood Hills, not far from where Shawna had fallen.
I called Milo first, asked for permission to let Agnes Yeager know.
“Why don’t you let me get a crew there first?” he said. “Make sure the guy didn’t lie. Make sure we pick him up too. Full name?”
I told him, feeling all sorts of things but pushing them aside with images of Shawna’s Christian burial. No doubt Agnes would invite me. Maybe I’d attend, maybe I wouldn’t.
“Okay,” said Milo. “I’m to call Petra because it’s Hollywood territory. Meet her up there and see what we’ve got. How’d you do it, Alex – no, don’t tell me. We’ll talk later.”
“Sure,” I said, hanging up and dialing another number.
Adam Green answered. “Hey.”
“This is Alex Delaware, Adam.”
“Al – Oh, the shrink. What, something finally go down about Shawna?”
“Maybe,” I said. “It could hit the papers. I wanted to reach you beforehand, keep my word.”
“The papers? Hey, your word was give me the story. For my screenplay.”
“That’s the thing, Adam. There really is no story.”