Towne.”
Sally scoffed, “We had to play her music all the time. He talked about her every day. Mostly it was ‘poor Kayleigh this, poor Kayleigh that.’ Nobody understood her, her father sold the family house she loved, her mother died, the fans don’t treat her right, the label doesn’t record her right. He went on and on. I couldn’t take it. I just left one night. It was sort of okay for a month. He stalked me, yeah, but it wasn’t terrible. But then his mother died and he freaked out. I mean totally.”
The stressor event that had pushed him over the edge.
“He came over, crying and acting all weird, like his life was over with. I felt bad for him-and I was scared-so we got back together. But he just got stranger and stranger. He wouldn’t go out at all, he made me drop all my friends, he got jealous of men at work. He thought I was sleeping with every one of them there. As
“When was this?”
“December, last year.”
The second stressor event, the one that had initiated his stalking Kayleigh.
Dance made a decision. “He’s kidnapped her, Sally.”
“Who, Kayleigh Towne?” she whispered. And yet she didn’t seem too shocked.
“We’ll protect you and your family, Sally. I promise. And we’ll get him and put him in jail for the rest of his life- he’s also killed some people.”
“Oh, no. My God, no.”
“But we can only do that if you help us. Do you have any idea where he might go?”
Another debate raged within her.
She knows something. Come on, Dance thought. Come on…
“I…”
“We’ll get the police to your family, Sally. But you have to meet us halfway.”
“Well, he said he had this, like, religious experience, seeing Kayleigh sing for the first time. An outdoor concert, a couple years ago. He said if he could live anywhere, that’s where it would be. In a cabin in the woods near there.”
“Where?” Dance asked.
“Some town in California, on the ocean. Monterey. I don’t know exactly where it is.”
Dance finally looked away from the screen and caught Madigan’s eye. She looked back at the tearstained face of her subject. “That’s all right, Sally. I do.”
Chapter 73
AS THEY DROVE along, Edwin Sharp was singing, loud and more or less in key.
“We had to say good-bye to her,” he called into the back of the van. “My red Buick. Sorry.”
Kayleigh was concentrating on not crying. This was a survival, not an emotional, issue. Her nose was already perilously stuffed up and she was sure if she started sobbing she’d suffocate. The tape on her mouth was a tight seal. She wasn’t blindfolded but she was in the far back of the windowless van, on the floor. He’d pulled her boots off. Lovingly smelled the leather. Sick.
They were about an hour from Fresno, though she didn’t know which direction, probably in the foothills toward Yosemite or the Sierras because the road seemed to be at an incline. West or south, the landscape was flat. They stopped once, after Edwin had glanced into the rearview mirror at her and he’d frowned. He pulled off the road and climbed into the back; she’d shied away. He’d said, “No, no, made a mistake there.” A thick strand of her hair had been imprisoned by the duct tape and Edwin had carefully loosened it and worked the hair free from the adhesive. “Can’t have that.” And he recited again how long it had been since she’d cut it. “Ten years, four months… You could write a song. That’d be a good title.”
Then to her horror he’d pulled a brush from his pocket and run it through her hair gently, meticulously. “You’re so beautiful,” he’d whispered.
Then the drive had resumed.
He now sang, “‘She gets me where I’m going and she always gets me back. She’s my red Cadillac.’ Love it, just positively love it.”
Kayleigh’s hands were cuffed in front of her. She’d hoped she could grab one of the rear door levers, open it and tumble out, taking her chances on the road and traffic.
But there were no door levers. He’d removed them. Edwin Sharp had planned this carefully.
As he continued to sing, she felt the van turn off the main road and drive for a time along a smaller highway, one in bad condition. Definitely going up. Ten minutes later the tires began to crunch over dirt and gravel. Then the surface got even rougher and the vehicle strained uphill for several miles. Finally the van leveled off and ten minutes later came to a stop.
Edwin climbed out. Then there was silence for a long moment.
This isn’t fair, she thought. It just isn’t goddamn fair.
“Hey there!” Edwin was opening the rear door, revealing a field surrounded by a pine forest. He helped her out and pulled the tape off her mouth-gently, though she was thoroughly repulsed once more by the touch of his skin on hers. She smelled his aftershave-yes, definitely her father’s-and his sweat.
She inhaled hard, shivering with relief. She felt like she’d been half drowned.
Edwin stepped back and stared at her adoringly but there was no artistic admiration in his gaze now; his eyes lingered on her breasts and crotch.
“My boots,” she said.
“Naw, I like you barefoot.” A glance down. “We’ll have to do something about that polish. It’s a little too red, you know.”
Then he was gesturing at a small single-wide trailer, covered with camouflage netting. It sat in the middle of the clearing. “Familiar?”
“Look, if you let me go, you can have a head start. Six hours, ten hours. And I’ll arrange to get you money. A million dollars.”
“Doesn’t it look familiar?” he repeated, irritated that she wasn’t understanding.
She gazed around. It did, yes. But what was-
Oh, my God…
Kayleigh realized, stunned, where she was standing. This was the property she’d grown up on! That her grandfather had cleared and where he’d built the family house. Edwin had put the trailer pretty much where the manse had been. There’d been a lot of clearing over the years but she could easily recognize landmarks from her childhood. She remembered that Edwin had been aware that she’d been upset Bishop had sold the property-just as he’d lost his own childhood house. How had he found the land? A deed search, she supposed.
Kayleigh knew too that because the company that had bought up all of the private property here had gone
