"No, no, not them. I mean Jesus."
Oh . . . "Well, okay." After a pause Dance asked, "Could you check with Him pretty soon?"
"I'll call you back, Agent Dance."
They hung up. Dance called Winston Kellogg and let him know they were awaiting divine intervention regarding Whitfield. He seemed amused. "That's one long-distance call." Dance decided she definitely wouldn't let Charles Overby know whose permission was required.
Was this whole thing such a great idea, after all?
She then called Women's Initiatives in San Diego. When Rebecca Sheffield answered, she said, "Hi. It's Kathryn Dance again, in Monterey. I was--"
Rebecca interrupted. "I've been watching the news for the past twenty-four hours. What happened? You almost had him and he got away?"
"I'm afraid so."
Rebecca gave a harsh sigh. "Well, are you catching on now?"
"Catching on?"
"The fire at the courthouse. The fire at the power plant. Twice, arson. See the pattern? He found something that worked. And he did it again."
Exactly what Dance had thought. She didn't defend herself, though, but merely said, "He's not quite like any escapee we've ever seen."
"Well, yeah."
"Ms. Sheffield, there's something--"
"Hold on. First, there's one thing I want to say."
"Go ahead," Dance said uneasily.
"Forgive me, but you people don't have a clue what you're up against. You need to do what I tell people in my seminars. They're about empowerment in business. A lot of women think they can get together with their friends for drinks and dump on their idiotic bosses or their exes or their abusive boyfriends, and, presto, they're cured. Well, it doesn't work like that. You can't stumble around, you can't wing it."
"Well, I appreciate--"
"First, you identify the problem. An example: you're not comfortable dating. Second, identify the facts that are the source of the problem. You were date-raped once. Three, structure a solution. You don't dive into dating and ignore your fears. You don't curl up in a ball and forget men. You make a plan: start out slowly, see men at lunchtime, meet them in public places, only go out with men who aren't physically imposing and who don't invade your personal space, who don't drink, et cetera. You get the picture. Then, slowly, you expand who you see. After two, three months, or six, or a year, you've solved the problem. Structure a plan and stick to it. See what I'm saying?"
"I do, yes."
Dance thought two things: First, the woman's seminars probably drew sell-out crowds. Second, wouldn't want to hang out with Rebecca Sheffield socially. She wondered if the woman was finished.
She wasn't.
"Okay, now I have a seminar today I can't cancel. But if you haven't caught him by tomorrow morning I want to come up there. Maybe there are some things I can remember from eight years ago that'll help. Or is that against some policy or something?"
"No, not at all. It's a good idea."
"All right. Look, I have to go. What were you going to ask me?"
"Nothing important. Let's hope everything works out before then but if not, I'll call and make arrangements to get you here."
"Sounds like a plan," the woman said briskly and hung up.
Chapter 22
In the Sea View Motel, Daniel Pell looked up from Jennie's computer, where he'd been online, and saw the woman easing toward him seductively.
Jennie offered a purr and whispered, "Come on back to bed, baby. Fuck me."