Jeffery Deaver - The Sleeping Doll

"Oh, and I should say that Rebecca found another address for me. The home of one Stuart Dance."

Dance felt this news like a slap in the face. She struggled to keep from being sick. A wash of heat, scalding water, enveloped her face and chest.

"You son of a bitch," TJ raged.

"And if you tell me the truth, your mom and pop and kiddies'll be fine. I was right about your brood, wasn't I? At our first get-together. And no husband. You, a poor widow, Rebecca tells me. Sorry about that. Anyway, I'll bet the kiddies're with the grandfolks right now."

At that moment Kathryn Dance came to a decision.

It was a gamble, and under other circumstances it would have been a difficult, if not impossible, choice. Now, although the consequences would probably be tragic, one way or the other, there was no option.

No weapons-except words, and her intuition. A to B to X…

They would have to do.

Dance shifted so she was facing Pell directly. "Aren't you curious why we're here?"

"That's a question. I didn't want a question. I wanted an answer."

Make sure he remains in charge-Daniel Pell's trademark. "Please, let me go on. I am answering your question. Please, let me."

Pell looked her over with a frown. He didn't object.

"Now think about it. Why would we come here in such a big hurry?"

Normally she would have used a subject's first name. But doing so could be interpreted as an attempt to dominate, and Daniel Pell needed to know he was in control.

He grimaced impatiently. "Get to the point."

Rebecca scowled. "She's stalling. Let's go, baby."

Dance said, "Because I had to warn Morton-"

Rebecca whispered, "Let's just finish up and get going. Jesus, we're wasting-"

"Quiet, lovely." Pell turned his bright blue eyes back to Dance, just as he'd done in Salinas during their interview on Monday. It seemed like years ago. "Yeah, you wanted to warn him about me. So?"

"No. I wanted to warn him about Rebecca."

"What're you talking about?"

Dance held Pell's eyes as she said, "I wanted to warn him that she was going to use you to kill him. Just like she used you at William Croyton's house eight years ago."

Dance saw the flicker in Daniel Pell's otherworldly eyes.

She'd touched something close to the god of control.

She used you…

"This is such bullshit," Rebecca snapped.

"Probably," Pell said.

Dance noted the conditional word, not an absolute one. The agent eased forward. We believe that those who are physically closer to us tell the truth more than those leaning away. "She set you up, Daniel. And you want to know why? To kill William Croyton's wife."

He was shaking his head, but he was listening to every word.

"Rebecca was Croyton's lover. And when his wife wouldn't give him a divorce she decided to use you and Jimmy Newberg to kill her."

Rebecca laughed harshly.

Dance said, "You remember the Sleeping Doll, Daniel? Theresa Croyton?"

Now she was using his first name. She'd established a bond-by suggesting a common enemy.

He said nothing. His eyes flicked to Rebecca, then back to Dance, who continued, "I just talked to the girl."

Rebecca was shocked. "You what?"

"We had a long conversation. It was quite revealing."

Rebecca tried to recover. "Daniel, she didn't talk to her at all. She's bluffing to save her ass."

But Dance asked, "Was Jeopardy! on the TV in the den the night you and Newberg broke into the Croytons'? She told me it was. Who else would have known that?"

What is Quebec?…

The killer blinked. Dance saw she had his complete attention. "Theresa told me that her father was having affairs. He'd drop the children off at the Santa Cruz boardwalk and then meet his lovers there. One night Croyton spotted Rebecca doing sketches and picked her up. They started an affair. She wanted him to get a divorce but he wouldn't, or couldn't, because of his wife. So Rebecca decided to kill her."

"Oh, this is ridiculous," Rebecca raged. "She doesn't know any of this."

But Dance could see it was posed. The woman was flushed and her hands and feet were flashing subtle but clear affect displays from the stress. There was now no doubt that Dance was on to something.

Dance looked at him with steady eyes. "The boardwalk…Rebecca would've heard about you there, wouldn't she, Daniel? That's where the Family went to sell things at flea markets and to steal and shoplift. Caused kind of a stir, this cult of criminals. Gypsies, they called you. It made the news. She needed a fall guy, a killer. Linda told me you two met on the boardwalk. You thought you seduced her? No, it was the other way around."

Rebecca's voice remained calm. "Shut up! She's lying, Dan-"

"Quiet!" Pell snapped.

"She joined your clan when? Not long before the Croyton murders. A few months?" Dance pressed forward relentlessly. "Rebecca talked her way into the Family. Didn't it seem a little sudden? Didn't you wonder why? She wasn't like the others. Linda and Samantha and Jimmy, they were children. They'd do what you wanted. But Rebecca was different. Independent, aggressive."

Dance recalled Winston Kellogg's comment about cult leaders.

…women can be just as effective and as ruthless as men. And often they're more devious…

"Once she was in the Family she saw right away that she could use Jimmy Newberg too. She told him that Croyton had something valuable in his house and he suggested that the two of you break in and steal it. Right?"

Dance saw that she was. "But Rebecca had made other plans with Jimmy. Once you were in the Croytons' house, he was supposed to kill Croyton's wife, then kill you . With you gone, he and Rebecca could be in charge. Of course, her idea was to turn Jimmy in after the killings-or maybe even kill him herself. William Croyton would go through a suitable period of mourning and he'd marry her."

"Honey, no. This is-"

Pell lunged forward and grabbed Rebecca's short hair, pulled her close. "Don't say another word. Let her talk!"

Moaning in pain, cringing, she slipped to the floor.

With Pell's attention elsewhere, Dance caught TJ's eye. He nodded slowly.

She continued, "Rebecca thought only Croyton's wife would be home. But the whole family was there because Theresa said she was sick. Whatever happened that night-only you know that, Daniel-whatever happened, everybody ended up dead.

"And when you called the Family to tell them what happened, Rebecca did the only thing she could to save herself: She turned you in. She 's the one who made the call that got you arrested."

"That's bullshit," Rebecca said. "I'm the one who got him out of jail now!"

Dance laughed coldly. She said to Pell, "Because she needed to use you again, Daniel. To kill Morton. A few months ago she got a call from him and he tells her about the book The Sleeping Doll, how he's going to write about the Croytons-their life before the murders and Theresa's life afterward. She knows he'd learn about the affairs Croyton had. It was just a matter of time before somebody put the pieces together-that she was behind a plot to murder Croyton's wife.

"So Rebecca came up with the plan to break you out of Capitola… One thing I don't know," she added, "is what she said to you, Daniel, to convince you to murder him." She glanced angrily at Rebecca, as if she were offended by what the woman had done to her good friend Daniel Pell. "So what lies did you tell him?"

Pell shouted at Rebecca, "What you told me-is it true or not?" But before she could speak, Pell grabbed Nagle, who cringed. "That book you're writing! What were you going to say about me?"

"It wasn't about you . It was about Theresa and the Croytons and the girls in the Family. That's all. It was about your victims, not you."