Xo

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 newcomerand 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.
    Madigan ignored him and stepped