Roadside Crosses

threats. In fact, he seemed like the sort who’d relish them. And post something in his blog about any that were made.
    Besides, though she didn’t like Chilton and thought he was arrogant and self-righteous, using something she’d learned in an investigation to intimidate the man into silence didn’t sit well. In any case, Dance could honestly answer, “I haven’t found a thing. James Chilton himself is a small part of the case. He didn’t even post anything about the boy—and he deleted Travis’s name. The point of the ‘Roadside Crosses’ thread was to criticize the police and highway department. It was the readers who started to attack the boy.”
    “So there’s nothing incriminating, nothing we can use.”
    Use. Odd choice of verb.
    “No.”
    “Ah, too bad.” Royce did seem disappointed. Overby noticed too and looked disappointed himself.
    Overby said, “Keep on it, Kathryn.”
    Her voice was a crawl. “We’re working full-out to find the perp, Charles.”
    “Of course. Sure. But in the whole scope of the case . . .” His sentence dwindled.
    “What?” she asked sharply. The anger about Robert Harper was resurfacing.
    Watch it, she warned herself.
    Overby smiled in a way that bore only a loose resemblance to a smile. “In the whole scope of thecase it would be helpful to everybody if Chilton could be persuaded to stop the blog. Helpful to us and to Sacramento. Not to mention saving the lives of people who’ve posted comments.”
    “Exactly,” Royce said. “We’re worried about more victims.”
    Of course the AG and Royce would worry about that. But they’d also worry about the bad press against the state for not doing everything to stop the killer.
    To end the meeting and get back to work, Dance simply agreed. “If I see anything you can use, Charles, I’ll let you know.”
    Royce’s eyes flickered. Overby missed the irony completely and smiled. “Good.”
    It was then that her phone vibrated with a text message. She read the screen, and gave a faint gasp and looked up at Overby.
    Royce asked, “What is it?”
    Dance said, “James Chilton was just attacked. I have to go.”

Chapter 21
    DANCE HURRIED INTO Emergency Admitting at Monterey Bay Hospital.
    She found TJ looking troubled in the middle of the lobby. “Boss,” he said, exhaling hard, relieved to see her.
    “How is he?”
    “He’ll be okay.”
    “Did you get Travis?”
    “It wasn’t the boy who did it,” TJ said.
    At that moment the double doors to the emergency room swung open and James Chilton, a bandage on his cheek, strode out. “He attacked me!” Chilton was pointing at a ruddy-faced, solidly built man in a suit. He sat beside the window. A large county deputy stood over him. Without a greeting, Chilton pointed to him and snapped to Dance, “Arrest him.”
    Meanwhile the man leapt to his feet. “Him. I want him in jail!”
    The deputy muttered, “Mr. Brubaker, please sit down.” He spoke forcefully enough so that the man hesitated, delivered a glare to Chilton then dropped back into the fiberglass seat.
    The officer then joined Dance and told her whathad happened. A half hour before, Arnold Brubaker had been on the grounds of his proposed desalination plant with a survey crew. He’d found Chilton taking pictures of animal habitats there. He tried to grab the blogger’s camera and shoved Chilton to the ground. The surveyors called the police.
    The injury, Dance assessed, didn’t seem serious.
    Still, Chilton seemed possessed. “That man is raping the Peninsula. He’s destroying our natural resources. Our flora and fauna. Not to mention destroying an Ohlone burial ground.”
    The Ohlone Indians were the first inhabitants of this part of California.
    “We aren’t building anywhere near the tribal land!” Brubaker yelled. “That was a rumor. And completely untrue!”
    “But the traffic in and out of the area is going to—”
    “And we’re spending millions to relocate animal populations and—”
    “Both of you,” Dance snapped. “Quiet.”
    Chilton, however, had his momentum going. “He broke my camera too. Just like the Nazis.”
    Brubaker replied with a cold smile, “James, I believe you broke the law first by trespassing on private property. Didn’t the Nazis do that too?”
    “I have a right to report on the destruction of our resources.”
    “And I—”
    “Okay,” Dance snapped. “No more!”
    They fell silent as she got the details of the various offenses from the