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I felt sorry for Jayne. Despite her alleged high IQ, there was something so sorrowful about her, and so uninformed. At least she seemed that way, possessing a low-grade sense of humor and prone to laughing at outhouse jokes. She was quite beautiful but there was something almost obscene and grotesque about her as time wore on. I felt some sort of kinship with her, and something in her nature reached into me, affecting me. She was like a sad child walking on the edge of a steep wall in her mother's high heels.

I met two other business associates of Jayne's. One was feeling no pain and the other was carrying two fifths of some fancy Russian vodka in a briefcase. The one that was stoned was supposed to be a publicity agent. Jayne didn't cut the vodka—just floated a couple of ice cubes. We talked about The Flea—trying to sort out an approach to making sense of the story line, but whatever ideas Jayne had discussed with the producer seemed to get shuffled into a haze of drinking away the afternoon. After a couple of glasses, when she managed to spill a full drink down the front of her denim shirt, and she took it off to let it dry on the terrace of the office. She then continued talking while she sat in her wet brassiere with a bunch of paper towels wadded over her chest. At one point she said the vodka was “stinging” her “titties.”

While I was sitting there staring at the mounds of white on her chest sticking out over the table, she said, "They've grown bigger. It has to do with physical improvement." We talked about the story for awhile, then she said, "But my hips are the same. I've gained a little in the waist, but not in the hips."

Sadly, she was dead that same year, killed in an auto wreck on a Louisiana highway at night. The same accident killed two other adult passengers in the front seat with Jayne, yet surprisingly her children, asleep in the back seat, survived the crash. By error it has been reported numerous times that Jayne was decapitated in the accident. This is not true. The official police report states, “the upper portion of this white female’s head was severed.” Jayne’s death certificate describes, “a crushed skull with avulsion (forcible separation or detachment) of cranium and brain.” She was thirty four years old. 

Though I'd been paid for a draft of The Flea script, and had been able to develop 
a kind of rapport with Jayne, the movie was dumped following her death.

Excerpts from LAID BARE: A Memoir of Wrecked Lives and the Hollywood Death Trip