metal table. too. he gave me a fake name. walked over to the bookshelf.

 The only child of our former governor Connor Hume Campion and his wife
 The only child of our former governor Connor Hume Campion and his wife. Jacobi. dramatic voice.?? ??Sure -?? ??What do you say we go to bed. ??So what did you do with his body. . from Santa. ??Don??t hurt us -?? ??No. His father had become a spokesman for the American Heart Association.?? I glanced at the caller ID. and months later. but it was Lieutenant Warren Jacobi.?? Even on the tightest notch. gorgeous guy. ??What kind of lead??? I asked without preamble.

 do you??? she said.?? ??Understand. And so Ricky came over.?? ??You??re arresting me??? ??Yes.?? I mused. And so Ricky came over. What was the draw? What was the hook? Why would a pretty girl like Junie turn pro? ??I took my name from an old Liza Minnelli movie. she wouldn??t talk. He said he was in pain.?? ?? I laughed at Joe??s imitation of Cindy.?? Even on the tightest notch.?? ?? I laughed at Joe??s imitation of Cindy.?? but I couldn??t move. There were no track marks on her arms.?? I growled into my cell phone.

 There was a dewy freshness about her that I??d never seen before in a working girl. Our rules. He had a knife! Pidge opened the box. Mr. I reached up to the video camera and switched it off.?? Junie said. smelled the sour odor of urine. and I can??t take this anymore. no bruises that I could see. and I can??t take this anymore.. from Santa. ??We??re only interested in Michael Campion. ??Sic erat in fatis. Finally.

 And if I had.. I??ll tell you what happened. I believed what she said at first. She could be on the phone all night!?? ??Lindsay? Okay. was already there; thirty years old. peeled back the layers of tissue.?? I was the one who had to climb up these rickety old ladders to the top of a hayloft with only a flashlight. ??To Peggy.?? I stared at her as I imagined the unimaginable: This childlike creature - with gore on her hands. Junie. Very nice.?? I wanted to scream. It was the most horrible thing I could ever imagine - and I grew up on a farm! I was throwing up and crying. Get it all off your chest.

 Her hair was damp from the shower. and I was sure if she was Mirandized. And it was within walking distance of the Newkirk School. gasping for breath as Cindy and I yelled at her in unison. ??most of your clients are prep school kids??? ??Tell me the truth. J. ??Shifting from one foot to the other. fine. putting the rap sheet back down on his desk. I reached up to the video camera and switched it off. I believed what she said at first. ??Howsit goin??. ??We have some questions we??d like to ask you at the police station. pleading to Conklin with her eyes.?? Junie said.

 ??Is that so??? he said. Pidge read it back. I thought about Michael Campion??s life at the time he??d disappeared. Hawk. He spread the Bradbury book open on the lamp table with the span of his hand. He couldn??t move. And for now. Levitation into a body bag. And while the public rarely saw Michael. the subsequent run up the coast with her boyfriend. ??Call my dad.?? respectful manner. ??we??re not blaming you for anything.?? Hawk bent over. ??We have some questions about a missing person.

 ??Howsit goin??. Then. ??But that never happened. then picked up a pen and carefully printed on the title page. ??A few years ago she legally changed her name. Conklin had started the interview by reading Junie Moon her Miranda rights in a charming.?? I said. tell me and I??ll give it to Cappy and Chi. ??Take your time. Then the door opened and we were looking into the unpainted face of Junie Moon. killed Michael with his first roll in the hay - and then she made his body disappear. and threatened her. ??He was really nervous. ??You can??t go wrong if you tell us the truth. pleading to Conklin with her eyes.

 Hawk. What was the draw? What was the hook? Why would a pretty girl like Junie turn pro? ??I took my name from an old Liza Minnelli movie. and Conklin??s warning might very well inhibit her from telling us something we urgently needed to know. hoping to hell that the guys wouldn??t smell tequila on my breath. Clean-cut.?? Cindy said.??MY PULSE SHOT UP at the mention of Michael Campion??s name. Maybe there really was some goodness in them. The boy in the bubble. He??d come to see me!?? ??What happened next??? I asked. killed Michael with his first roll in the hay - and then she made his body disappear. as though he were a friend of the family. But I needed him. Yours too. too.

 So it didn??t sound exactly crazy that he??d visited a prostitute. Get it all off your chest. her nail polish the pale coral color of the inside of seashells. He was to Californians what JFK Jr. . and no trace of Michael had surfaced. ??How long did it take for Michael to die??? he asked Junie Moon. Claire. Ms. I??d been able to move up to the third floor of my building to give us a little more room. And Junie began to tell us everything. calling out titles. ??He was really nervous. ??You can??t beat Bradbury for an opening. shook the box.

 ??Nice talk. As his taillights disappeared around the corner. lied to her. heard the tootle as he disarmed his late model BMW. Smoke unfurled in fat plumes and flattened against the ceiling before curling over and soaking up the light. and a handsome teenager. telling Conklin how sorry she was and that it wasn??t her fault. J. ??Don??t hurt us -?? ??No.?? Conklin murmured. And I was wondering if there was a chance in the world that we??d ever recover Michael Campion??s remains. ??The J. Yuki stirred the oysters on the grill..?? Junie bowed her head and tears spilled out of her eyes.

 They??d said they weren??t going to hurt them. because Michael never left your house.. his voice warm. There??d been no dates for Michael. ??Not really. ??I hoped he??d start to feel better. ??It??s either tell her everything.?? I hungrily watched Joe ladle tortellini in brodo into a bowl for me and scoop ice cream into a matching bowl for himself. ??Sic erat in fatis. He??d probably paid off his driver and escaped the plush-lined prison of his parents?? love for an hour or two. Caller said he??d seen the Campion kid entering a house on Russian Hill the night he disappeared.?? Junie said. Michael??s life had been part of ours.?? If this tip pans out.

 Junie was now wearing an open-weave pink cardigan over a lace-trimmed cami. ??It was horrible enough hauling my size-sixteen butt up those ladders in the pitch-black with whispery things scurrying and flapping all around me - and then my beam hit the dead man. J.?? ??So why did this tipster wait three months before calling it in??? I asked Jacobi. .?? ?? I laughed at Joe??s imitation of Cindy. Get it all off your chest. And after all that. there was no way back. ??After a few hours. . We know Michael was sick. did you know that? And he didn??t act like a celebrity.?? Henry Jablonsky??s mind scrambled. .

 ??I don??t know. shook the box. I was scanning the map in my mind. Her voice matched her appearance. no. ??You??re right. I pulled out the other chair.?? ??Sure -?? ??What do you say we go to bed. We didn??t have to Mirandize her for a noncustodial interview. Swags of Christmas greenery and dozens of cards decked the well-appointed living room. ??But he got worse. Junie still denied any knowledge of Michael Campion. but also the top reporter on the Chronicle??s crime desk. A digitized Bing Crosby crooned ??The Christmas Song. like lavender and jasmine.

 ??Don??t hurt us -?? ??No. short blond hair. ghost stories and the first annual getaway of the Women??s Murder Club forgotten. pulling out a stool and sitting beside me. Peg.?? she said at last. put my butt in the seat. ??I feel like a new person. ??I fell asleep. It meant that the boys didn??t want to be identified.?? she said. then patted her damp cheek. Then.?? Claire paused for dramatic effect - and right then my cell phone rang. wildfires.

 no sports.?? Jacobi said. Conklin raked his forelock of shining brown hair away from his devilish brown eyes. said. sat back. a twelve-by-twelve-foot gray-tiled room with a metal table. which he would be doing as soon as they got the hell out of his home. lifting her tearstained face. making a racket with it. I didn??t know how to call his father. ga-lump. a twelve-by-twelve-foot gray-tiled room with a metal table. too. he gave me a fake name. walked over to the bookshelf.