Free You're Nobody 'Til Somebody Kills You by Robert J. Randisi Page A

he got past the gate I made him stop so no other car could get by.
    “That gate should be closed, Mr. G.”
    “When we get inside we’ll find out how to close it. Come on.”
    He stopped moving.
    “Inside?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Marilyn’s house?”
    “Yeah.”
    “B-but … is she home?”
    “Yeah, she’s home,” I said. “Come on, the front door’s open and I wanna go in.”
    “Mr. G.,” he said, “we been drivin’ a long time.”
    “You can freshen up inside, Jerry,” he said. I suddenly became aware that I was kind of rank myself. “We both can.”
    I led him through the front door. It was a small, one-story house with an attached garage and a cathedral ceiling.
    “Wow,” Eddie said.
    I assumed Marilyn was still in her bedroom, so I found the bathroom and Jerry and I took turns cleaning up. Eventually, we were both back in the living room, waiting for Marilyn.
    “What do I say when she comes out?” Jerry asked.
    “Try hello, big guy.”
    It took several more minutes but Marilyn finally breezed into the room. Her red mouth was lushly in place, her hair combed and gleaming. She was still wearing jeans and the sweatshirt, but the shirt had artfully slid off one rounded, paleshoulder. She was once again the Marilyn of every man and boy’s wet dream. For me she was Sugar Kane Kowalczyk of
Some Like It Hot
.
    “Marilyn, this is my friend, Jerry.”
    Jerry opened his mouth but nothing came out. He was staring. I’d never seen the big guy so dumbstruck.

Twenty-one
    H ELLO, JERRY,” MARILYN SAID pleasantly. She walked up to him and put out her hand. Jerry still didn’t say a word, but he shook her hand, engulfing it in his.
    “Eddie told me you’re a big fan.”
    “Uhh, yes, ma’am.”
    “I’m always so happy to meet a real fan.”
    “Oh, I’m a real fan, ma’am,” Jerry assured her. “I loved you as Kay in
River of No Return
and as Cherie in
Bus Stop
.”
    “Bus Stop,”
she said. “That was hard. I got bronchitis during the filming, but I did perfect that Texas-Oklahoma twang.”
    “You sure did,” Jerry said. “That was a great performance.”
    “River of No Return
was a bad movie,” she said, “but I loved working with Robert Mitchum.”
    “It may not have been a good movie,” Jerry said, “but it’s one of my favorites.”
    “You’re sweet,” she said, and then looked at me. “I like him.”
    “That’s good,” I said, “because he’s gonna be around for a while.”
    “He is?”
    “I am?” Jerry asked.
    “Before we get to that, Marilyn, do you know a man named Danny Bardini?”
    She frowned, putting a pretty little wrinkle in the smooth skin of her forehead.
    “No, I don’t. Should I?”
    “He’s a friend of mine, a private eye,” I said. “He was keepin’ an eye on you for me.”
    “Following me?”
    “Only from Tahoe to here,” I said.
    “I thought you were going to help me,” she said, “not some friend of yours.”
    “Mr. G. had to go to a funeral,” Jerry said, before I could say a word. “His mother died.”
    “Oh, Eddie.” She put her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s all right,” I said. “I only had Danny watching you until I got back.”
    “Well, he never came up to me,” she said.
    “Did you feel someone was watching you these past few days?” I asked.
    “Well, I did … maybe it was him?”
    “Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe he saw who was watching you.”
    “Can you ask him?”
    “That’s just it,” I said. “He’s missing.”
    “Missing?” she asked. “W-what does it mean?”
    “It means I think Jerry should stay in your guesthouse until I find out what’s going on.”
    “What about you?” Jerry asked. “You need me to watch your back.”
    “Jerry, right now I think I need you to watch out for Marilyn,” I said. “If somethin’ happened to Danny—”
    “Can’t you stay, Eddie?” Marilyn asked, grabbing my arm.
    “I’ll come back,” I promised. “It may take me a few days tofind