A look passed from the older woman to her chief of detectives, meaning: Do what you need to on this case. This is big news here and Kayleigh's our own. Nothing is going to happen to her. Nothing.
The sheriff scanned Dance and said good-bye. She left, along with two of the other deputies.
Dance said to Madigan, "My specialty's interrogation and interviewing, Detective. If you have a suspect or witness you'd like me to talk to, just give me a call." She handed him her card.
"I do a bit of that myself," Madigan offered. "Well, all righty then, Kathryn." He pocketed the card like a used tissue.
"Oh, wait, that seminar," Harutyun said, frowning. "In Salinas. Body language, right? Kinetics. That was y
ou."
"Kinesics, yes."
He turned to Madigan. "Alberto and I went last year. It was helpful. You were funny too."
"Seminar," Madigan repeated. "Funny. Well, that's good to know. Here's a thought.... Kayleigh, you saw somebody here yesterday?"
"Just a shadow," the girl said.
He smiled. "Shadows're left by somethin'. Or someone. Why don't you talk to people in the crew who were here, Kathryn. Any convention center workers too. See what they have to say."
"I could do that, Detective. But that's more along the lines of canvassing. I'm sure the people with the crew and anybody else here would cooperate. I'm usually involved if there's reason for a witness or suspect to be deceptive or if they can't remember important facts."
"And I sure hope we get somebody you can use those seminar skills of yours on, Kathryn. But until then, it'd be a big help if you'd see what the others have to say. Of course, don't feel you have to."
Seminar skills ...
She'd been outmaneuvered. Given a necessary, but minor task to keep her out of their hair. The dog had been sniffing around for juicy scraps at the picnic and got tossed a dry bone instead.
"Be glad to," Dance said. She pulled out her iPhone and got from Kayleigh the names of the people with the crew and convention center employees who were here yesterday, inputting them one by one.
The medical examiner arrived and approached the senior detective. They had a quiet conversation.
Dance called to Kayleigh, "I'll see you later." The young woman's eyes looked so mournful it was hard to keep contact. Dance started up the aisle when the thought slammed her.
Jesus.
She turned back. "Kayleigh, last night? The caller only played one verse, right?"
"The first verse. And the chorus."
"And it's about a concert hall," Dance said.
"Well, yeah, sort of. It's kind of about being a public person. But it mentions a venue."
"I don't know who's behind this," Dance said, "but if it's a stalker, like Edwin, I think he's going to keep killing."
"Oh, Kathryn," Kayleigh whispered. "Again? He might hurt somebody else?"
Committing murder was rare among stalkers but in her years as a reporter, a jury consultant and a cop, Dance had learned that when it came to violent crime, an outlier could kill you just as dead as a perp who fell smack in the middle of the bell curve. "The basis for stalking is repetitive, obsessive behavior. I think we should assume he's going to make more calls and more people will be at risk. I'd get a wire on Kayleigh's phone. And let's look at the other verses of that song and find out who or where he might attack again."
Madigan asked, "But why would the perp do that? What's in it for him?"
Dance replied, "I don't know. Some stalkers are simply psychotic."
"Sounds kinda far-fetched," Madigan said. Mostly he seemed irritated that Dance had upset Kayleigh.
"I think it's important."