“Movies. For stuntmen. A dozen outlets. Not much to follow up on, though. There’re no serial numbers.
They couldn’t lift any prints off the bag or the suit. Now, the additives in the gas mean it was BP but we can’t narrow it down to a particular station. The fuse was homemade. Rope soaked in slow-burning chemicals. None of them’re traceable either.”
“TJ, what’s the word on the aunt?”
“Zip so far. I’m expecting a breakthrough any moment.”
Her phone rang. It was another call from Capitola. The warden was with the prisoner who claimed he had some information about Daniel Pell. Did Dance want to talk to him now?
“Sure.” She hit the speakerphone button. “This is Agent Dance. I’m here with Detective O’Neil.”
“Hey. I’m Eddie Chang.”
“Eddie,” the warden added, “is doing a five-to-eight for bank robbery. He’s in Capitola because he can be a bit…slippery.”
“How well did you know Daniel Pell?” Dance asked.
“Not really good. Nobody did. But I was somebody who, you know, wasn’t no threat to him. So he kind of opened up to me.”
“And you’ve got some information on him?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why’re you helping us?” O’Neil asked.
“Up for parole in six months. I help you, it’ll go good for me. Provided you catch him, of course. If you don’t, I think I’ll stay in the Big C here until you do, now that I’m rolling over on him.”
O’Neil asked, “Did Pell talk about girlfriends or anyone on the outside? Particularly a woman?”
“He bragged about the women he’d had. He’d give us these great stories. It was like watching a porn film. Oh, man, we loved those stories.”
“You remember any names? Someone named Alison?”
“He never mentioned anybody.”
After what Tony Waters had told her, Dance suspected that Pell was making up the sex stories—using them as incentives to get the cons to do things for him.
She asked, “So, what do you want to tell us?”
“I have this idea where he might be headed.” Dance and O’Neil shared a glance. “Outside of Acapulco.
There’s a town there, Santa Rosario, in the mountains.”
“Why there?”
“Okay, what it was, maybe a week ago we were sitting around bullshitting and there was a new con, Felipe Rivera, doing a back-to-back ’cause he got trigger-happy during a GTA. We were talking and Pell finds out he was from Mexico. So Pell’s asking him about this Santa Rosario. Rivera’d never heard of it, but Pell’s pretty anxious to find out more, so he describes it, like trying to jog his memory. It’s got a hot spring and it’s not near any big highways and there’s this steep mountain nearby…. But Rivera couldn’t remember anything. Then Pell shut up about it and changed the subject. So I was figuring that’s what he might’ve had in mind.”
Dance asked, “Before that, had he ever mentioned Mexico?”
“Maybe. Can’t say as I recall.”
“Think back, Eddie. Say, six months, a year. Did Pell ever talk about someplaceelse he’d like to go?”
Another pause. “No. Sorry. I mean, no place he thought was, man, I’ve gotta go there because it’s kick-ass, or whatever.”
“How about somewhere he was just interested in? Or curious about?”
“Oh, hey, a couple times he mentioned that Mormon place.”
“Salt Lake City.”
“No. The state. Utah. What he liked was that you could have a lot of wives.”
The Family…
“He said in Utah the police don’t give you any shit because it’s the Mormons who run the state and they don’t like the FBI or the state police snooping around. You can do whatever you want in Utah.”
“When did he tell you that?”
“I don’t know. A while ago. Last year. Then maybe a month ago.”
Dance glanced at O’Neil and he nodded.
“Let me call you back. Can you wait there for a minute?”
A laugh from Chang. “And where would I go?”
She disconnected, then called Linda Whitfield and, after her, Rebecca Sheffield. Neither woman knew of any interest Pell had ever expressed in either Mexico or Utah. As for the attraction of Mormon polygamy, Linda said he’d never mentioned it. Rebecca laughed. “Pell likedsleeping with several women.
That’s different from beingmarried to several women. Real different.”
Dance and O’Neil walked upstairs to Charles Overby’s office and briefed him about the possible destinations, as well as the three references they’d found in the Google search, and the crime-scene results.
“Acapulco?”
“No. It was a plant, I’m sure. He asked about it just last week and in front of other cons. It’s too obvious. Utah’s more likely. But I’ve got to find out more.”
“Well, front burner it, Kathryn,” Overby said. “I just got a call fromThe New York Times. ” His phone rang.
“It’s Sacramento on two, Charles,” his assistant said. He sighed and grabbed the handset.
Dance and O’Neil left and just as they got into the hallway, his phone rang too. As they walked, she glanced at him several times. Michael O’Neil’s affect displays—signals of emotion—were virtually invisible most of the time, but they were obvious to her. She deduced the call was about Juan Millar. She could see clearly how upset he was about his fellow officer’s injury. She didn’t know the last time he’d been so troubled.
O’Neil hung up and gave her a summary of the detective’s condition: It was the same as earlier but he’d been awake once or twice.
“Go see him,” Dance said.
“You sure?”
“I’ll follow up here.”
Dance returned to her office, pausing to pour another coffee from the pot near Maryellen Kresbach, who said nothing more about phone messages, though Dance sensed she wanted to.
Brian called….
This time she grabbed the chocolate chip cookie she’d been fantasizing about. At her desk she called Chang and the warden back.