"No, no, that's not what I'm here about. I checked you out. You work for that publisher on Figueroa. You were there all day yesterday."
Alarm. "Did you--"
"Nobody knows. I called about delivering a package."
"That . . . Toni said somebody tried to deliver something, they were asking about me. That was you." The woman rubbed her face then crossed her arms. Gestures of negation. She wa
s steeped in stress.
"That was your husband?" Dance asked.
She nodded.
"He doesn't know?"
"He doesn't even suspect."
Amazing, Dance reflected. "Does anyone know?"
"A few of the clerks at the courthouse, where I changed my name. My parole officer."
"What about friends and family?"
"My mother's dead. My father couldn't care less about me. They didn't have anything to do with me before I met Pell. After the Croyton murders, they stopped returning my phone calls. And my old friends? Some stayed in touch for a while but being associated with somebody like Daniel Pell? Let's just say they found excuses to disappear from my life as fast as they could. Everybody I know now I met after I became Sarah." A glance back at the house, then she turned her uneasy eyes to Dance. "What do you want?" A whisper.
"I'm sure you're watching the news. We haven't found Pell yet. But he's staying in the Monterey area. And we don't know why. Rebecca and Linda are coming to help us."
"They are?" She seemed astonished.
"And I'd like you to come down there too."
"Me?" Her jaw trembled. "No, no, I couldn't. Oh, please . . ." Her voice started to break.
Dance could see the fringes of hysteria. She said quickly, "Don't worry. I'm not going to ruin your life. I'm not going to say anything about you. I'm just asking for help. We can't figure him out. You might know some things--"
"I don't know anything. Really. Daniel Pell's not like a husband or brother or friend. He's a monster. He used us. That's all. I lived with him for two years and I still couldn't begin to tell you what was going on in his mind. You have to believe me. I swear."
Classic denial flags, signaling not deception but the stress from a past she couldn't confront.
"You'll be completely protected, if that's what--"
"No. I'm sorry. I wish I could. You have to understand, I've created a whole new life for myself. But it's taken so much work . . . and it's so fragile."
One look at the face, the horrified eyes, the trembling jaw, told Dance that there was no chance of her agreeing.
"I understand."
"I'm sorry. I just can't do it."
Samantha turned and walked to the house. At the door, she looked back and gave a big smile.
Has she changed her mind? Dance was momentarily hopeful.
Then the woman waved. " 'Bye!" she called. "Good seeing you again."
Samantha McCoy and her lie walked back into the house. The door closed.
Chapter 24