"Salinas."
Hm. Monterey County.
"You have the guy's name--and physical or computer address?"
"CSU'd have it." The detective made a call and asked that the information be sent to her phone. She noted that he'd memorized her number.
The unit chimed a moment later with the incoming message.
"I'll send it to some people I know there. They can follow up with him." She composed an email and sent it off.
Harutyun then said, "I'm trying to keep an open mind. I know it seems to be Edwin but I'm still looking into motives anybody else would have had to kill Bobby. I've been getting a lot of information about him but so far nothing jumps out. And now I guess I better add this guy into the mix. But, well, there've gotta be a lot of people who'd like to murder a file sharer. Half the record companies and movie studios."
Another squad car arrived, crunching over the gravel, dirt and bleached twigs that bordered the site of the blackened earth. It parked near a faded Conoco sign depicting a pale green dinosaur. Dance's daughter, Maggie, was presently in a Jurassic phase. Her room was littered with plastic versions of the reptiles. Dance tamped down a pang, missing her children.
P. K. Madigan climbed out, surveyed the scene with hands on his slim hips overshadowed by his belly. Then he joined Dance and Harutyun. "So, he was stealing her songs?"
"That's right."
Madigan grumbled, "Never thought he'd switch to landlines. Should have."
"We all should have."
"And where the hell is he? He's got a car as big as my boat and it's bright red, to boot. I don't see how he keeps losing my folks." His phone rang and he regarded the screen. "'Lo? ... You don't say.... Naw, I'll go myself." He disconnected. "Well, all righty then. I can't tell you where Edwin was when this fella died but I can tell you where he is now. He's parked in front of Kayleigh's house again. In the arboretum lot across the road."
"What's he doing?"
"Sitting on the hood of his car, happy as a clam, having himself a picnic. I want to have a talk with him. Well, actually, I'd like you to have a talk with him, Kathryn. You up for that?"
"You bet I am."
Chapter 30
THAT CONVERSATION DID not, however, occur.
Driving in tandem, they were at Kayleigh's house fast, in twenty-five minutes, but Edwin Sharp had left by then.
He has a sixth sense, Dance thought, though she did not believe in sixth senses.
Was it her imagination or did she see a cloud of dust hanging over the spot from which he might have just sped off? Hard to tell. There was a lot of dust in Fresno. The sky was clear but wind rose occasionally and a nearby vortex of beige powder swirled into a tiny funnel and then melted away.
Dance and Madigan both parked across the road from Kayleigh's house and climbed out. This side of the road was lush, thanks to the park. Kayleigh's yard too was thickly landscaped. In the distance, south and west, was a vista of low fields, now just dark dirt. Whatever was grown there had been harvested.
The detective gave a knowing glance toward her--acknowledging frustration at their missing quarry--and leaned against his car to make a call. From the brief conversation Dance deduced it was to the deputy at Kayleigh's house--provided to supplement Darthur Morgan when the manpower allowed. He disconnected. "Was Jose, at the house." A nod. "Edwin was here ten minutes ago. They didn't see which way he went."
Dance could understand why. From here you could see only the second story of the house, which was about three hundred feet away, down the gravel driveway. She wondered if the windows visible from here--the ones Edwin had just presumably been staring at while he had his meal--were Kayleigh's bedroom.
Silence for a time. The sun was low and Dance could feel the day shedding heat in layers.
Madigan said, "Had a snake in my backyard a couple, three years ago. Big rattler. I mean, a big one. Saw him once and never again for the rest of that summer. Was he under the barbecue, the house, had he left altogether? Walked around with my sidearm all the time, which I never do."
"Because of the kids," Dance said.
"Because of the kids. We took to calling him the 'invisible snake.' But it wasn't funny. Ruined the backyard for the whole season. And saw him one time only. All right." He stood with hands on his hips again, looking over the park. "You're in town all alone. You want to come over for dinner? My wife, she's a pretty good cook."
"I'll probably just get something back at the motel. Get some sleep."
"We got good desserts."