XO (49 page)

Read XO Online

Authors: Jeffery Deaver

Tags: #Fans (Persons), #General, #Women Singers, #Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, #Suspense Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Espionage

BOOK: XO
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So she’d looked at the facts he’d mentioned, tried to analyze not his kinesics but his verbal content. Well, think about it. Was there anything that might help them find where Edwin would go with his love?

And what would happen when they got there?

Dance believed she knew the answer to
that
question and she did not want to consider it.

Harutyun asked, “Why didn’t he just snatch her a few days ago?”

Dance gave her thoughts. “Oh, he didn’t
want
to snatch her at all. It’s why he set up Alicia as the killer. So he could rescue Kayleigh and win her over with his heroism. Like some arsonists—they set fires and then rescue people, to be heroes. Which is exactly what he did.

“He probably pitched his case to her at lunch, reminding her that he’d saved her life, why didn’t they go out on a date, or something like that. She said no. That was his last chance to be close to her in private so he did what he had to, kidnapped her. But it’s not impulsive. Believe me, he’s known this was a possibility and he’d had it all planned out as a last resort.”

Something was eating away at her. Something elusive. Facts again … verbal content. Facts were not meshing.

What is it?

She sighed. The thought vanished before it solidified. Then:

Wait … Yes! That’s it!

She grabbed the phone and placed a call to her friend and colleague, Amy Grabe, FBI Special Agent in Charge, San Francisco.

The woman’s low, sultry voice said, “Kathryn, saw the wire—kidnapping and possible interstate flight.”

“That’s why I’m calling.”

“It’s really the singer Kayleigh Towne?”

“I’m afraid so. A stalker.”

“Well, what can we do? You think he’s headed this way?”

“That’s not why I’m calling. What I need are a couple of field agents in the Seattle area. I have to conduct an interview with a witness and I don’t have time to get up there. It’s got to happen now.”

“Can’t you do it over the phone?” the SAC asked.

“I tried that. It didn’t work.”

Chapter 72
 

WELL, THOUGHT KATHRYN
Dance, staring at the computer screen. Look at this.

The woman she was gazing at, presently in Seattle and connected via Skype, could have been Kayleigh Towne’s sister.

Not an identical twin but real close. Straight, blond hair, a petite frame, a long, pretty face.

Edwin’s former girlfriend, Sally Docking, stared nervously at the computer screen. Her voice broke as she said, “These people, I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything wrong.” There were two FBI agents behind her in the living room of her Seattle apartment.

Dance smiled. “I just needed them to bring one of their computers so you and I could have another chat.”

Actually they were there because she didn’t think Sally would voluntarily go onto Skype for a second conversation.

Dance’s voice was casual, despite the urgency she felt. “You’ll be all right. Provided you tell me the truth.”

Not “tell me the truth
this time.
” That was too confrontational.

“Sure.”

A discrepancy had occurred to Kathryn Dance—certain facts were not lining up. Now that Edwin Sharp had been revealed to be the perp, his behavior with Sally Docking didn’t ring true. Her earlier account of life with Edwin had been more or less credible over the phone but a kinesic expert needs to
see
her subject, not just hear, to spot deception.

And so Amy Grabe had called the Seattle field office of the Bureau and sent two agents to Sally Docking’s apartment in a working-class section of the city. They brought with them a very expensive laptop, which incorporated a high-definition webcam.

Dance was in a conference room in the sheriff’s office, the overhead
lights off but a desk lamp not far from her face. She’d adjusted the illumination carefully; she needed Sally to see her very clearly—and under ominous lighting. Sally was lit by ambient rays but the lens and software rendered the image perfectly.

“It looks like a nice apartment, Sally.” Dance wore her pink-rimmed glasses, the nonthreatening ones, unlike the steel- or black-rimmed predator specs she put on when she wanted to present an aggressive image.

“It’s okay, I guess. I like it. Rent’s cheap.”

Dance asked a number of other questions about the girl, her family, her job, as she drew a baseline of the woman’s behavior. She caught only one microburst of stress, when Sally said she didn’t mind the commute to her job at a mall fifteen miles from where she lived.

Good, she was getting a feel for the woman, who tended to appear nervous and uncertain even when she was being asked simple questions and answering truthfully.

After ten minutes of this, Dance said, “Now, I’d like to talk to you about Edwin some more.”

“Everything I told you was true!” Her eyes bored into the camera.

This was awkward: a blunt denial quickly delivered. Dance couldn’t over- or underreact; it might tip her hand. “It’s just routine. We often follow up to get more information when there’s been a change in developments.”

“Oh.”

“We need your help, Sally. See, the situation down in Fresno’s … difficult. Edwin may have been more involved in a crime than it originally seemed. I’m worried that he might be going through a bad phase and could hurt somebody. Or hurt himself.”

“No!”

“That’s right.” Dance had made certain that not a single soul leaked to the public the news that Edwin had snatched Kayleigh. Sally Docking wouldn’t know. “And we need to find him. We need to know where he might go, places that are important to him, other residences he might have.”

“Oh, I don’t know anywhere like that.” Her eyes whipped to the computer screen.

A baseline variation. It confirmed that she did have some ideas. But dislodging this nugget would take some work.

“Well, you might know more than you think, Sally.”

“But I haven’t heard from him for a long time.”

Nonresponsive. And the vague adjective didn’t mask the fact that this was probably a lie but Dance let it go for now. “Well, not necessarily someplace he wanted to move to. Just someplace he mentioned when you were together.”

“No.”

“No?”

Sally was thinking quickly. “I mean, he was pretty much into Seattle. He didn’t travel much. He was, like, a homebody kind of guy.”

“Never mentioned anything, really?” A glance at the sheet in front of her.

Sally caught the glance.

As long as you tell the truth …

“I mean, he talked about going on vacations some. You know. But I didn’t think that’s what you meant.”

“Where did he want to go?”

“Nashville was one place. The Grand Ole Opry. And then maybe New York, so he could go to some concerts.”

Edwin Sharp probably did say that but he was not going to run off to Nashville or Manhattan with Kayleigh Towne and set up housekeeping, however skewed his sense of reality.

But Dance said, “Good, Sally. That’s just the sort of thing we’re looking for. Can you think of any other places? Maybe you were watching a TV show and he said, ‘Hey, that looks neat.’ Something like that?”

“No, really.” Eyes on the web camera.

Lie.

Dance grimaced. “Well, I appreciate you trying. I don’t know what I’m going to do. You were really the only person we can turn to.”

“Me? I broke up with him a while ago. Uhm, nine months. About that.”

“I just mean you had a very different relationship with Edwin than some people. You won’t believe it but he can be very abusive and obsessive.”

“No, really?”

Dance’s heart tapped faster. She was on the trail of her prey and closing in. Still, easy as could be, she continued, “That’s right. When people reject him, that pushes a button. Edwin has issues about abandonment
and rejection. He clings to people. Since
he
broke up with
you,
you’re not a negative in his life. In fact, he told me he still feels bad about the breakup.”

“You were talking about me with Edwin? Like, recently?” Delivered fast, like spilled water.

“That’s right. Funny, you could get the impression, from what he said, that he kind of misses you.” Dance crafted her sentences very carefully. She never intentionally deceived her subjects but sometimes let them do it for her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was curious what you’re up to.”

Sally swallowed and, with tentative fingers tipped in blue polish, she brushed at her long hair—an echo of Kayleigh’s, though not as long, not as fine. When she tilted her head Dance noticed the roots; she was not a natural blonde. The young woman asked in a slightly higher pitch—a stress tone: “What did he want to know?”

“Just general things.” Intentionally evasive.

She swallowed again.

Dance glanced down at a blank sheet of paper then up once more. She noted a faint glistening of sweat on Sally’s forehead as she strained to see it.

The FBI has some really good equipment.

Dance again glanced down at the sheet and Sally’s eyes dropped toward the desk in front of her as if the paper were two feet from her. Dance asked, “Your brother in Spokane? And your mother in Tacoma?”

“I just … my brother, my mother?”

“Edwin was close to them?”

The stalker had not said more than one or two sentences about Sally Docking and nothing at all about her family. Dance had looked up the details through Washington state and federal records, after she suspected the true relationship between the two.

“Did he say anything about
them
?” Sally asked.

“They were friendly, weren’t they? Close?”

“I …”

“What, Sally? Would you be concerned if Edwin showed some interest in your family?”

Ah, the power of the hypothetical.

Some interest in …

“What did he
say
?” she blurted. “Please tell me!”

“What’s the matter, Sally?” Dance tried to appear perplexed.

“I …” The tears began. “What did he
say
?” Behind her, one FBI agent shifted, perhaps sensing the edge of hysteria, as was Dance. “Edwin? What did he say about my family?”

Dance said evenly, “Why are you troubled? Tell me.” Her brow furrowed.

“He’s going to hurt them! He won’t understand that I did what he wanted. If he mentioned them to you it means he’s going to hurt them to get back at me. Please, you have to do something!”

“Wait.” Dance looked troubled. “I hope you’re not telling me that
you’re
the one who wanted to break up.”

“I—”

“Oh, no. That changes everything…. I mean, what I told Edwin …” She stopped speaking and peered at Sally uneasily.

“Please! No! What did you tell him? Where is he? Is Edwin going to Tacoma, Spokane?”

“We don’t know where he is, Sally, I told you that…. Let me think. Okay, this is a problem.”

“Don’t let him hurt my mama!” She was sobbing now. “Please! And my brother’s got two babies!”

The scenario was playing out just as Kathryn Dance had planned. The agent had needed to plant the seeds of fear within the woman to get her to open up and had formed her questions to give the impression that Edwin was practically en route to kill her family … and possibly then her.

Breathless with tears: “I did what he wanted. Why is he going to hurt us?”

Dance said sympathetically, “We can help you, Sally. But we can’t do anything for you or your mother or brother if you’re not honest.”

In fact, she’d already talked to the local authorities and made sure that both Sally’s mother’s and brother’s houses were being guarded, though the family members didn’t know it at this point.

Sally struggled for breath. “Please. I’m sorry. I lied. He told me I had to. He told me if anybody asked, I was supposed to tell them that he was the greatest guy and never stalked me or anybody and
he
broke up with
me,
not the other way around. I’m sorry but I was scared. Send the police to my mother’s. And my brother. He’s got the babies! Please! I’ll give you the addresses.”

“First, tell me the truth, Sally. Then we’ll see about the police. What’s the real story between Edwin and you?”

“Okay,” the woman said, wiping her face with tissues one of the agents behind her provided. “Last year Edwin was a security guard in the mall where I was working and he saw me and it was like, bang, he got totally obsessed with me.”

Because she looked like Kayleigh Towne.

“He started this campaign to win me over. And one thing led to another and we started going out. Only he got weird. I wasn’t allowed to do this, couldn’t do that…. Sometimes he just wanted to sit and look at me. He’d just stare or lie in bed and stroke my hair. It was so fucking creepy! He’d tell me how beautiful I was, over and over. The fact is he thought I looked like this singer—the one he liked. I think I mentioned her before. Kayleigh Towne.”

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