This was the tale: Nerdy boy meets beautiful girl who, for some inexplicable reason, likes him. Begins going out with him. Begins having sex with him. But nerdy boy is out of control, desperately jealous, possessive. I had a relationship like that myself in high school. I can tell you all about the inclinations of nerdy boys. You're so intimidated by the beautiful princess-you can't believe your luck any more than the other kids can---that you begin to cling. And when you begin to cling-calling too often, starting to suspect she's seeing somebody else on the side, being miserable and dysfunctional when you're apart for even an hour-she begins to withdraw. Comes to her senses, if you will. How did I ever fall in love with him? The girl I was in love with did me the favor of moving away. Our friend Rick wasn't able to cut it off clean. Started stalking her, threatening her, harassing the boys she went out with. Grades went to hell; sulked in his dark bedroom; severe weight loss; took up drugs, including crystal meth, which had become a plague upon small, quiet, self-respecting Iowa; and happened upon an article about the infamous Paul Renard and his involvement with voodoo and Satanism. Rick starts buying books on voodoo, begins experimenting with hexing people. Drives into Chicago, a mere four hours away, and visits a paranormal shop that sells voodoo dolls and other paraphernalia. Cuts up photos of Sandy and puts faces on dolls and begins sticking them with pins. The meth is becoming a serious problem by this time. Hallucinations. Rages. More weight loss. At this point, two years ago, his parents take him to Dr. Williams's hospital. He sees Rick twice a week for two years. A People magazine stringer is in Des Moines covering the national primary and reads an article about Dr. Williams's success with his various patients, most notably Rick. Voila. A People article about this fab-fab-fabulous doctor and his prize patient Rick. Who has given up stalking his girlfriend. Who has given up his suicide attempts. And, most important, has given up his use of meth. Dr. Williams's fifteen minutes of fame has arrived. The hospital prospers, as does the doctor. Rick is clean, mentally healthy (though still seeing the good doctor twice a week), and no threat whatsoever to Sandy. Then, four months ago, it all goes to hell. All his reading about Renard floods back to him. The doctor describes these as psychotic episodes; Rick apparently believes that Renard is inside his mind, puppeteering him. Back to meth. Back to stalking. And then, at least according to the police-Rick himself so swacked on meth he can't remember-he murders Sandy. His trial is about to begin two weeks hence. The national media, especially the tabloids, are rubbing their hands. The only thing more fun than building somebody up is tearing him down. Dr. Williams has become the villain. Rick's parents had begged the doctor to put Rick in the hospital. He was spookier and more violent than ever. They were afraid of what he might do to Sandy or himself-or both of them. They had pleaded with Dr. Williams on four different occasions for their son to be committed. Dr. Williams said that he could continue to see Rick on an outpatient basis and everything would be fine. Rick was just going through a minor setback. Everything would be fine. Very soon now.
"But he's not a killer," Dr. Williams finished. "I know this young man. And he's not a killer."
"You discount his belief that Paul Renard has taken possession of him?" Noah Chandler asked.
"That's why I didn't want you people out here," Dr. Williams said. "Poor Rick has enough problems without some stage magician exploiting him."
"I resent that," Laura said.
"Then resent it," Dr. Williams said. "I'm trying to help this boy. You're just trying to make some money off him."
"You agreed to let Tandy interview him," Noah Chandler said.
"I didn't agree to a damned thing," Dr. Williams said. "His parents did-after you spent an hour lying to them about how much the interview would help Rick's case."
"I consider his parents friends of mine," Chandler said.
"I'll bet you do," Dr. Williams said. "Do you always pay your 'friends' five thousand dollars?"
"Believe it or not," Chandler said, "we just wanted to help them a little bit with their legal expenses. They're not exactly rich people." Then, "That was the agreement," Chandler said to Deputy Fuller. "I've checked this with the chief."
"I know," Fuller said. Then, "Dr. Williams, they have the permission of Rick's parents for Miss West to interview him for half an hour."
"What if I don't want to be fucking interviewed?" Rick said.
"You're finally getting somebody who's willing to talk to you seriously about Paul Renard," Laura said. "And you don't want to talk to her?"
"I don't want to be on 'TV."
"Don't worry," Laura said. "You won't be." Then, to Deputy Fuller, "His parents said it would be all right if I stayed, too." Fuller shrugged. Shook his head. To him we were all crazy. You didn't put anything over on Bob Fuller, by God.
"Please, Dr. Williams, we'd really appreciate it if you'd make this as smooth as possible."
He looked at Laura and sighed. "Greed is never becoming-even when it's hidden behind a beautiful mask."
With that, he stood, picked up his briefcase, and left the room without a word.
"Is he always such an asshole?" Chandler asked Fuller.
"I wouldn't know," Fuller said.
Chandler said, "Well, Laura and I will see you back at the motel sometime this afternoon."
"Be sure and call Bailey," Tandy said. "See if the ratings are in."
Chandler looked genuinely sympathetic. He even managed to sound tender. He glanced at Laura before speaking to Tandy-parents keeping bad news from their child. "Don't worry, Tandy. I'm sure we got a bump two weeks ago with that alien abduction show."
Laura smirked. "That's right. How can you go wrong with little green men sticking probes up people's butts?"
Tandy didn't laugh. "They really believe it happened to them, Laura."
Obviously sensing the tension between the sisters, Chandler said, "We'll be leaving now."
"See you in a while," Laura said to me.
"Nice to see you again," Tandy said. "Thanks for coming out here, Robert."
"You ever been in jail?" Chandler said to me as we walked out the front door of the police station.
"No."
"I have. Three weeks drunk and disorderly. After my series got canceled, my life kinda went to shit. Beat up this guy in a North Hollywood bar one night."
"He all right?"
"Oh, yeah." He shrugged. "Eventually."
We walked outside into the fine, clean, small-town air that is almost a religious experience in the autumn.
He said, as we went down the steps, "I stayed there of my own choice."
"In jail?"
"Yeah." He smiled. "How's that for a pisser?"
"Why'd you do that?"
"Because I was sick and tired of all the Hollywood bullshit. Your agents lie to you, your manager lies to you, your lawyer lies to you. And my wife happened to be lying to me then, too. I knew she was seeing somebody."
"You have her followed?"
"Huh-uh. She couldn't come."
"That's how you knew?"
"She was floodgates, eight years of marriage. Floodgates every time we hopped in the sack. Then all of sudden, no matter what I did, no orgasm."
"Good detective work."
"So all these vampires are surrounding me and I decided screw it, you know?" We were now down on the sidewalk. Grain trucks and a John Deere tractor and a bulk milk truck carrying a shiny aluminum tube for product on the back sat at a red traffic light. "The only thing I was afraid of, in the jail I mean, was if some guy figured if I was an actor I must be gay-a lot of people think all actors are gay-and tries to bag me as some sort of trophy. But you know what? I bought 'em off. I told 'em all the inside scandal stories I knew-who's screwing who; who's a cross-dresser; who was suspected of murder by the DA but wasn't indicted; shit like that-and man, they loved me. And I liked them. I really did. They were totally up front. And I listened to their stories, too. They had some great ones, better than mine. I still hear from some of them from time to time. I admit, three weeks, I was ready to leave. But I made some good friends there." Then, "Hey."