Sylvia said, “You never told me that, Franco. When was this?”
“Seven, maybe eight days ago.”
Hondo asked, “How were they?”
“What do you mean?”
“Were they arguing, or just eating and having casual conversation?”
“They sat across the room from me. Bodhi appeared upset. No yelling or arm-waving theatrics, but she did not look happy.”
I said, “Did you see them leave?”
“No, I finished my meal and left. They were still there.”
“Did Bodhi see you?”
“No.” His eyes brightened with a thought, “It was two days after that band asked the same man and his group not to bother Bodhi. Troy, you remember, we saw it happen.”
“Where was I in all this?” Sylvia wrung her hands as she talked.
Troy said, “At the studio, babe. We dropped off the Wraith for her, that’s all. You’re not to blame. You have a full plate right now, and the studio needs you. Thousands of people depend on you. Bodhi knows how much you care about her.”
Hondo said, “What is it about this guy that makes you uncomfortable?”
Troy spoke before anyone else could open their mouths, “He’s more in the vein of a spiritual leader. He’s persuasive, and when he talks to you, it’s like you’re the most important person in the world, and what you say is the most important thing that can be said in the world. People are drawn to him. I think his directness sometimes puts off people.”
Hondo said, “So you’ve been around him some.”
“Yes. I don’t believe he would harm Bodhi.” Troy glanced at Franco and Sylvia, “But that’s only my opinion. Sylvia’s is the one that counts.”
Sylvia said, “I only know that when he looks at me and holds his gaze, I feel uncomfortable.”
Hondo said, “So you’ve met him as well.”
“Yes, several times, but never for very long.”
I said, “What’s this hippy guru leader’s name?”
Troy said, “Jericho Moon.”
Chapter 2
I asked, “What does he look like?”
“Maybe five-nine. He’s white, but dark tanned, like someone who works outside all year long. He’s slender, so probably
one-fifty. His hair’s brown, straight, and about this long.” He ran his fingers across his collarbones from side to side. “Sometimes he wears it in braids like an Indian.”
Franco said, “That’s the way he wore it at Spago, the braids.”
Troy continued, “His manner can vary from almost messianic to mysterious, if that helps any. And I mean mysterious in an almost supernatural way. I’ve never seen anyone else with a vibe that strong.”
Franco said, “Nor have I. He can get this look on his face, and when he does, his eyes change. They’re brown, but when he’s intense, they seem to turn black.”
I said to Sylvia and her two men, “As far as you know, Moon has no other aliases?”
They shook their heads. Sylvia said, “Do you think he may be involved?”