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“Fine.” I signaled the guard. “We’re done here.”
The guard led Larry away, and I grabbed Melanie’s hand. “I need to talk to the guard on duty.”
“Why?”
“I’m giving him a few hundreds to have Larry roughed up tonight.”
She touched my upper arm. “Don’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because he just gave us a clue.”
“Are you kidding me? What clue did you get out of that?”
“His high school. The future lawyers club.”
“How in the world is that going to help us?”
“The last thing he said was that we could find the information we needed easily. Since the only information he gave us was where he went to high school and the club he and Tom Simpson were in, that means we start there.”
“We go to his high school?”
“That
’s right. We go to his high school right now, and we ask to see their old yearbooks.”
“How would that help?”
“I’ve dealt with my share of unstable and psychopathic people. They each follow a certain type of logic, which in their minds makes sense, even though it doesn’t make sense to the rest of us. Did you ever see Silence of the Lambs?”
“Yes.”
“Remember when Clarice first goes to see Hannibal Lecter? He tells her to ‘look inside yourself.’ He wasn’t referring to Clarice finding herself. He was referring to a Your Self storage company. What Larry said isn’t that different. He told us we would find what we need at his high school and the future lawyers club.”
He smiled. “You’re fucking brilliant.”
She laughed. “I don’t know that I’m brilliant. I could be completely wrong. It’s possible he’s sending us on a wild goose chase. But the way he looked at me when he said we already knew where to find the information we sought… Honestly, I think it’s worth checking out.”
“I trust your judgment, Melanie. That’s why I brought you along. Let’s visit the good people at Tejon Prep School. Hell, we’re already here in the city.”
* * *
A half an hour later, we arrived at the school. Classes were over for the day, and after-school activities were in full swing. Melanie and I walked into the school to find the office.
A redheaded receptionist sat behind a desk.
“Excuse me,” I said.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m Jonah Steel.” I handed her my business card. “Of Steel Acres ranch. We’d like to look at some of your old yearbooks.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Steel.” She smiled broadly. “Which yearbook are you looking for?”
I looked at Melanie.
“We’re not sure,” she said. “Probably at least thirty years ago. We’ll have to look to find the ones we need.”
