“You son of a bitch,” TJ raged.
“And if you tell me the truth, your mom and pop and kiddies’ll be fine. I was right about your brood, wasn’t I? At our first get-together. And no husband. You, a poor widow, Rebecca tells me. Sorry about that. Anyway, I’ll bet the kiddies’re with the grandfolks right now.”
At that moment Kathryn Dance came to a decision.
It was a gamble, and under other circumstances it would have been a difficult, if not impossible, choice.
Now, although the consequences would probably be tragic, one way or the other, there was no option.
No weapons—except words, and her intuition.A to B to X…
They would have to do.
Dance shifted so she was facing Pell directly. “Aren’t you curious why we’re here?”
“That’s a question. I didn’t want a question. I wanted an answer.”
Make sure he remains in charge—Daniel Pell’s trademark. “Please, let me go on. Iam answering your question. Please, let me.”
Pell looked her over with a frown. He didn’t object.
“Now think about it. Why would we come here in such a big hurry?”
Normally she would have used a subject’s first name. But doing so could be interpreted as an attempt to dominate, and Daniel Pell needed to know he was in control.
He grimaced impatiently. “Get to the point.”
Rebecca scowled. “She’s stalling. Let’s go, baby.”
Dance said, “Because I had to warn Morton—”
Rebecca whispered, “Let’s just finish up and get going. Jesus, we’re wasting—”
“Quiet, lovely.” Pell turned his bright blue eyes back to Dance, just as he’d done in Salinas during their interview on Monday. It seemed like years ago. “Yeah, you wanted to warn him about me. So?”
“No. I wanted to warn him about Rebecca.”
“What’re you talking about?”
Dance held Pell’s eyes as she said, “I wanted to warn him that she was going to use you to kill him. Just like she used you at William Croyton’s house eight years ago.”
Chapter 50
Dance saw the flicker in Daniel Pell’s otherworldly eyes.
She’d touched something close to the god of control.
She used you….
“This is such bullshit,” Rebecca snapped.
“Probably,” Pell said.
Dance noted the conditional word, not an absolute one. The agent eased forward. We believe that those who are physically closer to us tell the truth more than those leaning away. “She set you up, Daniel. And you want to know why? To kill William Croyton’s wife.”
He was shaking his head, but he was listening to every word.
“Rebecca was Croyton’s lover. And when his wife wouldn’t give him a divorce she decided to use you and Jimmy Newberg to kill her.”
Rebecca laughed harshly.
Dance said, “You remember the Sleeping Doll, Daniel? Theresa Croyton?”
Now she was using his first name. She’d established a bond—by suggesting a common enemy.
He said nothing. His eyes flicked to Rebecca, then back to Dance, who continued, “I just talked to the girl.”
Rebecca was shocked. “You what?”
“We had a long conversation. It was quite revealing.”
Rebecca tried to recover. “Daniel, she didn’t talk to her at all. She’s bluffing to save her ass.”
But Dance asked, “WasJeopardy! on the TV in the den the night you and Newberg broke into the Croytons’? She told me it was. Who else would have known that?”
What is Quebec?…
The killer blinked. Dance saw she had his complete attention. “Theresa told me that her father was having affairs. He’d drop the children off at the Santa Cruz boardwalk and then meet his lovers there.
One night Croyton spotted Rebecca doing sketches and picked her up. They started an affair. She wanted him to get a divorce but he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, because of his wife. So Rebecca decided to kill her.”
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Rebecca raged. “She doesn’tknow any of this.”
But Dance could see it was posed. The woman was flushed and her hands and feet were flashing subtle but clear affect displays from the stress. There was now no doubt that Dance was on to something.
Dance looked at him with steady eyes. “The boardwalk…Rebecca would’ve heard about you there, wouldn’t she, Daniel? That’s where the Family went to sell things at flea markets and to steal and shoplift.
Caused kind of a stir, this cult of criminals. Gypsies, they called you. It made the news. She needed a fall guy, a killer. Linda told me you two met on the boardwalk. You thought you seduced her? No, it was the other way around.”
Rebecca’s voice remained calm. “Shut up! She’s lying, Dan—”
“Quiet!” Pell snapped.
“She joined your clan when? Not long before the Croyton murders. A few months?” Dance pressed forward relentlessly. “Rebecca talked her way into the Family. Didn’t it seem a little sudden? Didn’t you wonder why? She wasn’t like the others. Linda and Samantha and Jimmy, they were children. They’d do what you wanted. But Rebecca was different. Independent, aggressive.”
Dance recalled Winston Kellogg’s comment about cult leaders.
…women can be just as effective and as ruthless as men. And often they’re more devious….
“Once she was in the Family she saw right away that she could use Jimmy Newberg too. She told him that Croyton had something valuable in his house and he suggested that the two of you break in and steal it. Right?”
Dance saw that she was. “But Rebecca had madeother plans with Jimmy. Once you were in the Croytons’ house, he was supposed to kill Croyton’s wife, then killyou . With you gone, he and Rebecca could be in charge. Of course, her idea was to turn Jimmy in after the killings—or maybe even kill him herself. William Croyton would go through a suitable period of mourning and he’d marry her.”
“Honey, no. This is—”
Pell lunged forward and grabbed Rebecca’s short hair, pulled her close. “Don’t say another word. Let her talk!”