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Though nearly everyone would drift in and out of the entourage through the years, Elvis’s intimate circle was shrinking. It was the beginning of the end of the group, and it made him feel vulnerable and adrift. He had never quite accepted his stepbrothers, who were still adolescents. Dr. Nick remembers that in conversations with Elvis, “There were many times that he wished that he had a brother or a sister. He wanted to be part of something. Wanted to have a family.”

But he did not want to be told when to have it, or with whom.

He had always felt close to Shelley Fabares, who costarred with him for the third time in Clambake. They had a mutual respect and an easy understanding that went beyond words: “He was a private person who had no privacy. My experiences working with him were wonderful. I really loved him, and thought he was terrific. We had a fabulous time doing each film, even though some of them were mind-numbingly stupid. Sometimes we’d hear each other say lines, and look at each other and say, ‘Is there any possible way to make these sound real?’ We laughed from beginning to end.”

Their friendship might have become something more, as she had the petite physical build that he liked, and she was also an occasional recording star: Her single “Johnny Angel” topped the charts in 1962, only to be ousted by Elvis’s “Good Luck Charm.” But whenever Elvis played up to her, according to Sonny, Shelley always stalled him.

“He went after her from the first picture. He thought she was adorable. But she said to him, ‘I’m dating someone,’ and she said it was serious, so he backed off. But that chemistry was still there. So the next picture he went after her again. He said, ‘Are you still goin’ with that same guy?’ She said, ‘No, I’m not.’ Elvis said, ‘Great!’ Then she said, ‘I’m engaged to him now.’ So the final picture: ‘Are you still engaged to that guy?’ She said, ‘No, I married him.’ After a while he said, ‘You were weakening, weren’t you? And you had to get married to stop it, right?’ ”

In April, rumors swirled about Elvis’s own imminent marriage, and while gossip columnist Rona Barrett thought they were true, few others paid any attention. Sonny, working in the film industry at the time, dismissed the rumors out of hand, since no one in the group had mentioned a wedding to him. And Larry did the same. Whenever Elvis and Priscilla decided to marry, he was to share best man duties with Joe and Marty. Surely Elvis would have mentioned it if he were planning a ceremony, Larry thought, even though he had left the group.

What they didn’t know was that Parker, Vernon, and Priscilla had formed a triumvirate, threatening to ruin Elvis if he didn’t shape up. That included getting on with the marriage.

Vernon figured if his son settled down, he’d stop the incessant spending at the ranch, and he wouldn’t need so many of the guys, whom he considered leeches.

Priscilla thought if Elvis had a ring on his finger, the philandering might stop. She was so starved for his attention that she had faked suicide on Perugia Way with an overdose of Placidyl, the same drug that put her in a coma-like state her first Christmas at Graceland. The dangled promise of marriage was the only reason she stayed, and Elvis had already postponed the nuptials twice.

And Parker, always seeking control, wanted to keep his client an employable commodity. At thirty-two, Elvis was too old to live in such a crazy, free-spirited manner, and eventually the studios would hear about it. Parker would always disavow personal knowledge of Elvis’s drug use, but he did know that Elvis’s recklessness had to stop.

Furthermore, if Elvis were to marry, it would reinforce his Hollywood image as a pure purveyor of family entertainment. (“He’s a clean-cut, clean-living man,” director Sam Katzman had described him.) In spring 1967 the nation was undergoing a radical social shift, divided over the Vietnam War and awash in all things counterculture, hippie (the Summer of Love was right around the corner),