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encouraging me to form the group. I really think it is almost as much a part of his life as it is of mine. I think he, like Barry, sees the chorus as his surrogate family. And Eric keeps me posted on what’s going on with the members and things of which I might not otherwise be aware.”
    “When was this incident with Barry?” I asked.
    “A week or two before Grant was killed, actually.” He suddenly looked startled and said, “But that is purely coincidence, I’m sure. Barry is incapable of doing such a thing!”
    “I’m sure you’re right,” I said, not at all sure, “but I was wondering if I could get the phone numbers and addresses of everyone in the chorus, in case I might need to contact any of them for any reason.”
    “Of course,” he said.
    *
    On my way back to the office I remembered that Jonathan had mentioned Barry a couple of times as one of the chorus members he really liked and I had probably met him at Booth’s get-together, though I couldn’t remember. Jonathan hadn’t said anything about the incident between Barry and Grant, though, and I assumed he didn’t know about it.
    One of the many things I love about Jonathan is his willingness to accept people and to always give them the benefit of the doubt. Nevertheless, I’m sure if he’d known of Grant’s cruelty toward Barry he would have mentioned it.
    I made a note to check with both Barry and with Eric, who I was pretty sure knew everything that was going on in the chorus, to get their takes on the incident and to see how Barry had really felt about it.
    But first, while I was out, I thought I’d swing by the address Sal had given me for the mechanic, Paul. I cursed myself for not having asked for his last name.
    A sign stuck in the lawn outside the older four-story brick structure said “Furnished Apartment for Rent.” I walked up to the entrance and into the small foyer, checking the names on the buzzer plate—most of the slots were empty, but none of the ones that were there gave a first name Paul, or even the initial P. Well, since I was there, I thought I’d take a chance and I rang the one marked MANAGER.
    About fifteen seconds later, looking through the glass-paneled inner door, I saw the first door on the right open, and a very thin man in a blue work shirt several times too large for him came to the door and opened it.
    “Can I help you?” he asked pleasantly.
    “I’m looking for one of your tenants,” I said, “and didn’t see him listed. His first name is Paul.”
    “Jellen. Yeah. He’s gone.”
    “I figured he was probably at work, but thought I’d—”
    He interrupted me. “No, he’s gone. As in moved.”
    That caught me by surprise. “When was this?”
    “A week, maybe two. Told me one night he was leaving and the next day he was gone.”
    “What about his furniture?” I asked. “His things?”
    “All our apartments are furnished,” he said. “He didn’t have all that much to take. Left some food in the refrigerator and some stuff in the kitchen cupboards, but that’s it.”
    “Did he say where he was going?” I asked.
    “Tulsa. Said he got a job there.”
    Tulsa? Why in the world would anyone move to Tulsa? a mind-voice asked.
    I chose to ignore it. “Any forwarding address?”
    He shook his head. “Said for me to hold his mail and he’d send me his new address when he got settled. I haven’t heard from him since.”
    “Well, thanks for your time,” I said and, thoroughly puzzled, left.
    I needed to have a talk with Crandall Booth.

Chapter 4
    Though Booth owned several dealerships in the area, I knew he operated mainly out of Central Imports, so as soon as I got to the office, I called and was told Mr. Booth was out of town for a dealer’s conference and would be back the following Monday. I wondered idly if the conference might be in Tulsa.
    At dinner that night, I asked Jonathan about Barry.
    “I like him,” he said, which I’d already known. “He’s really quiet, and I think