She’d be sure to thank her stepmother-who, of course, had done all this work while injured.
Kayleigh admired Mary-Gordon’s picture of the pony and set it prominently on the bedside table. “Can we go riding tomorrow?”
“We’ll have to see, Mary-Gordon. It’s a busy time. But we’ll have breakfast together.”
“Grandma Sheri and Mommy made pancakes. They were pretty good. Not the best but pretty good.”
Kayleigh laughed and watched the little girl help unpack the suitcases and, with an expectant gaze toward Kayleigh, put away each article of clothing or toiletry where directed. As the girl made decisions about how to stow everything, she was absorbed and seemed to get huge pleasure from the simple tasks.
A tap in Kayleigh’s mind, like a finger flicking a crystal glass. An idea for a song. “I Could Learn a Lot From You.” A parent to a child. How the mother or father has gotten some things wrong in life and it’s the child who rearranges the adult’s perspective. It would have a twist. The first three verses would make listeners believe that the child was singing to the parent; only in the last would it be revealed that the parent was narrating the story. A melody came almost immediately. She sat down and wrote out the words and music on improvised staff paper.
“What’re you doing, Aunt Kayleigh?”
“Writing a song. You inspired me.”
“What’s ‘inspired’?”
“I wrote it for you.”
“Oh, sing it to me!”
“It’s not finished but here’s part of it.” She sang and the girl stared raptly at her.
“That’s a very good song,” Mary-Gordon announced with a furrowed brow as if she were the artists and repertoire director of a major label, passing judgment on a young songwriter’s submission.
Kayleigh continued to unpack, pausing momentarily to look at a picture of the family from fifteen or so years ago: Bishop, Margaret, Suellyn and Kayleigh on the porch of the old family house in the hills an hour north of here.
The girl turned her bright blue eyes toward the singer. “Are you crying, Aunt Kayleigh?”
The singer blinked. “Well, a little, Mary-Gordon, but you know sometimes people cry because they’re happy.”
“I didn’t know that. I don’t think I do.”
“Not everybody.”
“Where does this go?” she asked, picking up a pair of jeans. And placed them carefully in the drawer at which Kayleigh pointed.
“TIDE’S TURNED.”
Dance heard the man’s voice behind her in the lobby of her hotel. She wasn’t alarmed. She knew his voice by now.
Though for a moment she didn’t recognize P. K. Madigan. He was wearing civvies-blue jeans, a plaid shirt, cowboy boots and a tan cap embroidered on the crest with a hooked fish flying out of the water.
“Chief.”
She was headed out-on her way to Bishop’s house to continue the interviews of Kayleigh’s family-but she diverted and walked up to him. She glanced into the bar. She almost asked, “You want some ice cream?” but decided: “Coffee? Soda?”
“Naw,” the big man said. “See you’re on your way out. Had to stop by and talk to you.”
“Sure.” Dance noted his slumped posture, very different from the in-your-face pose when she’d met him at the scene of Bobby’s death.
“Here’s the thing. Anita’s playing it by the rules. Nobody in the division can talk to me-for their sake too. I’m cut out completely. And you’re in charge now.”
Ah, the meaning of the turned tide, she realized.
“Not exactly in charge.”
“More than anybody else. Damn. Wish I’d listened to you back in that interrogation room and let that son of a bitch go then.”
Her heart went out to the detective. He seemed lost.
“I asked the sheriff if I could consult or anything. But she said no. It’d look bad. Might prejudice the case.” He gave a laugh, harsh and cold. “Didn’t know whether she meant the case against the killer or the case against me. So, I’m sidelined.”
“I’m sorry it worked out that way.”
He waved his hand. “Nobody to blame but myself. I feel worse for Miguel. He’s got a wife doesn’t work and three kids. Won’t have any savings.” He was awkward now. “I’ve got to stay off the radar, Kathryn, but I’m just wondering, is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t know, Chief. I’m interviewing, Charlie’s working on the evidence, Dennis is still looking into if anybody else has a motive to kill Bobby and the others.”
“Yeah, sure. I understand.”
“You could just take some time off, get some fishing in.”
“Funny about that,” Madigan said. “Yeah, I like it. Been going out every weekend for years. But fact is I spend more time thinking about cases than I do about the fish.”
“You get some good ideas, floating around?”
“Oh, you bet I do.” A grim smile. “But the thing is, until now, I’d get outa the boat, put my uniform back on and do something about it.”
“Sorry, Chief.”
“Got it. That’s okay. Just thought I’d ask.”
He was halfway to the door, when Dance called, “Chief, wait.”
Madigan turned and she said, “There is one thing, I’m thinking. Nobody’d have to know. But it’s not the… well, most pleasant job in the world.”
A fraction of a smile. “Well, all righty then. Let’s get to it.”
Chapter 42
IT WAS ABOUT eight-thirty in the evening when Kathryn Dance got to Bishop Towne’s house.
She greeted Kayleigh and the family, who flocked around her and thanked her for saving Sheri’s life. Damp- eyed, hoarse, the stepmother hugged Dance hard and bled gratitude.
Bishop offered his thanks too and then asked, “That sheriff, or deputy, Madigan? He got suspended?”
“That’s right. Two other deputies too.”
“That son of a bitch!”
“Daddy,” Suellyn warned. But Mary-Gordon was in the kitchen and out of hearing.
“Well, he is. And M-G’s going to learn words like that sooner or later.”
“It’s going to be later,” Kayleigh snapped.
Dance now explained, “We’re not making any progress putting together a case against Edwin. He’s either innocent or very, very smart. We don’t have any leads at all. I’d like to get a few more details from Sheri and”-with a glance at Suellyn-“from you and your daughter about when he picked you up at the airport.”
She was hoping to find something that she could use to infer threatening behavior, which would, in turn, justify an arrest for stalking. That would give her access to Edwin-with his lawyer’s approval-and she hoped to conduct a full kinesic analysis.
“At the least it could help get a restraining order. To keep him at a distance.”
“Oh, I’d love that,” Kayleigh said.
