CHAPTER SIXTEENKellen Jamison stepped closer to Joseph Horton’s bed.
“Don’t touch him,” Carolyn Horton commanded.
“Is he conscious?”
“Never mind. We need to talk.”
They headed for a lounge. They sat on ugly plastic armchairs. Carolyn Horton said, “If he really saw Rebi, we may be able to find her.”
“I agree. Nothing else has worked very well. I’ve talked with the Berkeley police and I’m pretty sure that she has a male partner. If your husband really saw her on MacArthur, and I’m inclined to think that he did, then she’s engaged in prostitution.”
Carolyn Horton clutched her purse tightly, her fingers whitening with stress. She bit her lip but did not interrupt Jamison.
“Her partner works as her procurer. That’s what was going on the night your husband was attacked. But I’ve been doin
