Free The Last Story by Christopher Pike Page B

a police record.

    Where he came by his money."

    "He has money? How much?"

    "I don't know, but he's staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel." I removed a scrap of paper from my purse. "He drives a brand-new black Corvette. I took the liberty of writing down his license plate number." I handed the paper to Garrett. "I would like you to run a DMV check on him as well. I assume that presents no problem for you."

    He studied the number. "Is this a California license plate?"

    "Yes."

    He sighed softly. Something about the case both

    ered him. "My normal fee is two hundred dollars an hour."

    "Then we'll pay you four hundred dollars an hour." I took out my checkbook. "Speed is essential.

    If you could start researching him today, it would be appreciated. Would a ten thousand dollar retainer be satisfactory?"

    "More than satisfactory. Tell me, Ms. Rodrigues, are you personally involved with this guy?"

    I paused as I wrote. "Why do you ask?"

    "Just curious. Are you?"

    "No." I finished writing the check and handed it to him. "When do you think you'll have something for me?"

    "Probably tomorrow. But it would help if you could be more specific about what you want to know about him."

    "I've told you what I want."

    "Maybe, but I get the idea you're searching for a particular incident in his past. Am I correct?"

    I paused. "I want to know if there was a point in Roger Teller's life when everything changed for him."

    "For good or bad?"

    I shrugged. "Either way."

    I could see Garrett wanted to ask why I phrased my request the way I did. I was glad he didn't. How could I explain that I wanted to know if Roger was a Wanderer? With his charisma, he was definitely a candidate. And if he was a Wanderer, I wanted to know if he was aware of the fact. And what his mission was.

    Garrett agreed to take the case.

    I thanked him, left his office, and started back to Henry's to see how rehearsals were progressing. I had the yogi's lecture to attend that evening. Peter had made me swear I would come. Yet I wouldn't be going with Peter because Roger had insisted on going, too, and I planned to take him with me. Over lunch, after reading my palm, Roger had become unusually curious about this saint from India.

    CHAPTER

    IX

    V V E ARRIVED at the lecture only minutes before it was to*start. The Unity Church in Santa Monica was already full. If Peter and Jimmy hadn't saved me a seat, I would have had to stand in the back.

    Peter did not occupy a seat proper, his wheelchair hugged a pew near the front. Although I'd forgotten to call Peter to cancel our lunch date, I did phone to let him know I was bringing Roger. Peter hadn't minded. I could only hope Roger played it cool, and didn't try to hold my hand or anything. But cool was one thing Roger seemed to have no difficulty being. I wondered if he would learn of my probing into his past. Garrett had promised me that discretion was his middle name.

    I introduced Roger to Peter and Jimmy, both of whom were too excited about the holy man to pay much attention to Roger. For his part, Roger was low key. He had said little on the drive over from Henry's. Peter leaned over and kissed me as I sat down. It was a brief, friendly kiss. Peter was on my left, Roger on my right. Jimmy sat next to Roger, with no Jo to hang on to—not that he would have in public anyway. Jo had wanted to come but also wanted to work on lines, she said. Her interest in the esoteric had waned as she grew older.

    "Is he here yet?" I asked Peter.

    "You'll know when he gets here. Everyone stands. How are rehearsals going?"

    "Great. Andy and Henry think we're ready."

    Peter whispered in my ear. "Is that guy your new star?" he asked.

    "Yes. He's playing Daniel."

    "He looks like an actor."

    "Are you saying he looks handsome?" I asked.

    Peter thought a moment. "Has he been in something we've seen?"

    "Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

    "He looks familiar."

    Interesting, I thought. I'd had the same reaction.

    The yogi