Roadside Crosses

Overby.
    “And what do you do exactly, Hamilton?” She wasn’t going for a status-defining “Mr.,” not in a situation like this.
    “Oh, jack of all trades. A troubleshooter. If there are problems involving state agencies, the governor’s office, the assembly, even the courts, I look into it, write a report.” A smile. “A lot of reports. I hope they get read. You never know.”
    This didn’t seem to answer her question. She looked at her watch, a gesture that Royce noticed but that Overby did not. As she’d intended.
    “Hamilton is here about the Chilton case,” Overby said, then looked at the man from Sacramento to make sure that was all right. Back to Dance: “Brief us,” he said like a ship captain.
    “Sure, Charles,” Dance replied wryly, noting both his tone and the fact Overby had said “the Chilton case.” She’d been thinking of the attacks as the Roadside Cross Case. Or the Travis Brigham Case. Now she had an inkling as to why Royce was here.
    She explained about the murder of Lyndon Strickland—the mechanics of the killing and how he figured in the Chilton blog.
    Royce frowned. “So he’s expanding his possible targets?”
    “We think so, yes.”
    “Evidence?”
    “Sure, there’s some. But nothing specific that leads to where Travis is hiding out. We’ve got a joint CHP and sheriff’s office task force running a manhunt.” She shook her head. “They’re not making much progress. He doesn’t drive—he’s on a bike—and he’s staying underground.” She looked at Royce. “Our consultant thinks he’s using evasion techniques he learned in online games to stay out of sight.”
    “Who?”
    “Jon Boling, a professor from UC–Santa Cruz. He’s very helpful.”
    “ And he’s volunteering his time, no charge to us,” Overby slipped in smoothly, as if the words were oiled.
    “About this blog,” Royce said slowly. “How does that figure in, exactly?”
    Dance explained, “Some postings have set the boy off. He was cyberbullied.”
    “So, he snapped.”
    “We’re doing everything we can to find him,” Overby said. “He can’t be far. It’s a small peninsula.”
    Royce hadn’t given much away. But Dance could see from his focused eyes he was not only sizing up the Travis Brigham situation but was neatly folding it into his purpose here.
    Which he finally got down to.
    “Kathryn, there’s a concern in Sacramento about this case, I have to tell you. Everybody’s nervous. It’s got teenagers, computers, social networking. Now, a weapon’s involved. You can’t help but think Virginia Tech and Columbine. Apparently those boys from Colorado were his idols.”
    “Rumor. I don’t know if that’s true or not. It wasposted on the blog by someone who might or might not have known him.”
    And from the flutter of eyebrow and twitch of lip, she realized she might have just played into his hand. With people like Hamilton Royce, you never could be sure if all was straightforward, or if you were fencing.
    “This blog . . . I was talking to the AG about it. We’re worried that as long as people are posting, it’s like gasoline on the flames. You know what I mean? Like an avalanche. Well, mixing my metaphors, but you get the idea. What we were thinking: Wouldn’t it be better for the blog to shut down?”
    “I’ve actually asked Chilton to do that.”
    “Oh, you have?” Overby asked the question.
    “And what did he say?”
    “Emphatically no. Freedom of the press.”
    Royce scoffed. “It’s just a blog. It’s not the Chronicle or Wall Street Journal. ”
    “He doesn’t feel that way.” Dance then asked, “Has anybody from the AG’s office contacted him?”
    “No. If the request came from Sacramento, we’re worried that he’d post something about us bringing the subject up. And that’d spread to the newspapers and TV. Repression. Censorship. And those labels might rub off on the governor and some congressmen. No, we can’t do that.”
    “Well, he refused,” Dance repeated.
    “I was just wondering,” Royce began slowly, his gaze keenly strafing Dance, “if there was anything you’ve found about him, something to help persuade him?”
    “Stick or carrot?” she asked quickly.
    Royce couldn’t help but laugh. Savvy peopleapparently impressed him.
    “He doesn’t seem like the carrot sort, from what you’ve told me.”
    Meaning a bribe wouldn’t work. Which Dance knew was true, having tried one. But neither did Chilton seem susceptible to