XO

“Even from the sidewalk?” the stalker asked. “Tough to see anything inside unless you entered on the property. Well, I don’t really think you had the right to take anything. I want it returned.”

Dance turned to Harutyun. “Did he get a warrant?”

“No, after we saw things were missing from Bobby’s, the Chief sent a deputy over there-Miguel Lopez-and he saw things from the trailer through Edwin’s window, in plain sight… What’s the matter?”

Dance didn’t reply.

Inside the interrogation room Edwin was saying, “Well, I haven’t been in Bobby’s trailer, so…”

“Oh, how did you know it was a trailer?” Madigan demanded triumphantly.

“That’s right, you called it a ‘house’ earlier. I thought that was odd. I know where he lived because of Kayleigh’s song two years ago. ‘Bobby’s Double-Wide.’ All about the history of country music. Sort of like Don McLean’s ‘American Pie.’ Surprised you don’t know it. Being all gung-ho for Kayleigh, I mean.”

Madigan’s smile deflated and he seemed to be wrestling down his anger. “Just confess, Edwin. You want to, I know you do.”

A textbook line from blunt-force interrogation. This is the moment when the perp might start to cry and, indeed, confess.

But Edwin said, “Can I collect my things now? Where are they? In the Crime Scene Unit? That’s in the building south of here, right?”

The detective blinked. Then he said, “Look, let’s be realistic here. Work with me. I’ll talk to the prosecutor. I’m sure he’ll cut a deal. Maybe you were arguing with Bobby. You know, that chest bumping that started at the Cowboy Saloon that afternoon? It escalated. These things happen. We could be talking reduced counts. And maybe he’ll cut out the stalking charge altogether.”

“Stalking?” Edwin seemed perplexed. “I’m not a stalker. Kayleigh’s a friend. I know it and she knows it.”

“Friend? That’s not the story according to her lawyers.”

“Oh, she’s afraid of them. They’re controlled by her father. They’ve all been telling her lies about me.”

“That’s not the way it is,” Madigan said. “You’re in town to stalk her. And you killed her friend because he threw you out of the Cowboy Saloon yesterday.”

Edwin remained completely placid. “No, Detective. I came to Fresno to get out of the Seattle rain for a time, to come to a public concert… and to pay respect to a performer I like, a woman who’s been nice and frankly shown some interest in me. One of the best musicians of our era, by the way. You accuse me of stalking but I’m sorry, I’m the victim here. You never did anything about my call.”

Madigan’s face revealed confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I thought that was why your deputy Fuentes asked me here. My complaint.”

“Complaint?”

“You don’t know? I have to say that doesn’t surprise me. Saturday night, I called nine-one-one and reported a Peeping Tom, a trespasser, behind my house. But nobody did anything about it. You’ve got, what? Twelve hundred deputies? I just needed one to come out and see where this guy was standing, talk to the neighbors. But did they? No. Not for an out-of-towner.”

With a grim laugh, Madigan responded, “We have four hundred deputies in Fresno and sixty in Madera. They cover over six thousand square miles of territory from the Valley all the way up to the mountains. I’m afraid a Peeping Tom, if there really was one, isn’t going to be all-hands-on-deck.”

Dance noted that if the stalker was on a fishing expedition to get information about the limitations of the sheriff’s office, he’d certainly succeeded.

Edwin kept up the offensive, easy as a June day. “Your hometown girl is, quote, ‘stalked’ and you think it’s the end of the world. I’m a newcomer and nobody cares that somebody’s casing out my house. If Bobby Prescott was murdered and witnesses place me at his house, or trailer, then I’m being set up. Somebody had another reason to kill him and they’re using me as a fall guy. You really have to understand, Detective, I love her. I’d never hurt anybody close to her.”

“You don’t love her, Edwin. You’re obsessed with a celebrity who doesn’t know you from Adam.”

“I think love has to have some obsession to it, don’t you, Pike? Aren’t you obsessed with your wife some? Or weren’t you, at one point?” Edwin had spotted the wedding ring.

“You will not talk about my family!” Madigan sputtered.

“I’m sorry,” Edwin said, frowning. His eyes were enigmatic but belied contrition.

Madigan said, “Kayleigh doesn’t love you at all. You’re way off base.”

Efforts to get suspects to admit they were wrong, or that their beliefs were based on errors, were usually useless, especially in the case of fanatic- or obsession-based crimes like stalking.

Edwin shrugged. “You say that but you know she sent me emails and letters. She practically said she loved me.”

With some difficulty Madigan controlled his anger. He said, “Son, you have to get real here. She sent you the same emails she sent to ten thousand fans. A hundred thousand. We’ve been briefed by her lawyers. You got a half dozen form emails and a couple of form letters.”

“That’s what they’re telling you. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“Edwin, a lot of fans feel that way about performers. I sent a fan letter to a star once. He sent me back an autographed picture and-”

“He?” Edwin asked quickly.

Madigan hesitated a moment. “We got you dead to rights, son. Tell me the truth. Tell me you killed Robert Prescott and we’ll work something out. Tell me and you’ll feel better. Believe me.”

Edwin said, “You know, Pike, I think I don’t want to say anything more. I’d like to leave. And I’d like to pick up my things now. People versus Williams. You have to arrest me or let me go.”

Dance asked Harutyun, “The evidence? It places Edwin at the scene?”

She didn’t even bother to wait for a reply. Harutyun’s shift of eye away from her was all she needed. “He doesn’t have any forensics, does he?”

“We think it’ll probably match… But no, he doesn’t have any yet.”

“Dennis, ask the Chief to come in here.”

“What?”

“I need to talk to him. It’s very important.”

Harutyun examined her, glancing down at the ID on her belt. His mouth tightened beneath the mustache. He realized that she had deceived her way inside.

“I’m sorry,” Dance said. “I had to do it.”

He grimaced and sighed. Then snatched up a phone and dialed a number. They could hear it buzz inside. Madigan looked at it with surprise and irritation. Edwin didn’t pay attention but instead turned and looked into the reflective glass. Since he couldn’t see the occupants of the room he wasn’t focused on either Dance or Harutyun but the mere transit of his eyes in their direction was unsettling.

And his smile was wax. That damn smile.

“Yes?” Madigan said casually into the phone, though Dance noted a white thumb where he gripped the handset.

“Detective?”

“What?”

“I’m here with Agent Dance. She’d… like to have a word with you? If possible.”

His incredulous eyes started to swivel toward the mirrored window too, then he restrained himself.

“At this moment?”

“That’s correct. It seems important.”

“Wonder how she ended up in there.”

Did the stalker know what was going on? Dance couldn’t tell but he continued to look at the mirror.

“I’m busy.”

Dance grabbed the phone. “Detective, let him go. Don’t arrest him.”

After a moment, Madigan dropped the phone into the cradle. “Edwin, have some water.”

“I want to leave,” he repeated, the essence of calm.