Dance wondered about the absence of a TV in her brother’s house; was it an ethical or cultural decision? Or an economic one? You could get a cable ready set for a few hundred bucks nowadays. Still, Dance noted that the heels of Linda’s shoes were virtually worn away.

“It said there was no doubt he killed those guards.” She set down the tea. “I was surprised by that. Daniel wasn’t violent. He’d only hurt someone in self-defense.”

Though, looked at from Pell’s point of view, that was exactly why he’d slaughtered the guards. “But,” Linda continued, “he did let somebody go. That driver.”

Only because it served his interest.

“How did you meet Pell?”

“It was about ten years ago. In Golden Gate Park. San Francisco. I’d run away from home and was sleeping there. Daniel, Samantha and Jimmy were living in Seaside, along with a few other people. They’d travel up and down the coast, like gypsies. They’d sell things they’d bought or made. Sam and Jimmy were pretty talented; they’d make picture frames, CD holders, tie racks. Things like that.

“Anyway, I’d run away that weekend—no big deal, I did it all the time—and Daniel saw me near the Japanese Garden. He sat down and we started talking. Daniel has this gift. He listens to you. It’s like you’re the center of the universe. It’s really, you know, seductive.”

“And you never went back home?”

“No, I did. I always wanted to run away and just keep going. My brother did. He left home at eighteen and never looked back. But I wasn’t brave enough to. My parents—we lived in San Mateo—they were real strict. Like drill instructors. My father was head of Santa Clara Bank and Trust.”

“Wait, that Whitfield?”

“Yep. The multimillionaire Whitfield. The one who financed a good portion of Silicon Valley and survived the crash. The one who was going into politics—until a certain daughter of his made the press in a big way.” A wry smile. “Ever met anybody who’s been disowned by her parents? You have now…. Anyway, when I was growing up they were very authoritarian. I had to do everything the way they insisted. How I made my room, what I wore, what I was taking in school, what my grades were going to be. I got spanked until I was fourteen and I think he only stopped because my mother told my father it wasn’t a good idea with a girl that age…. They claimed it was because they loved me, and so on. But they were just control freaks. They were trying to turn me into a little doll for them to dress up and play with.

“So I go back home but all the time I was there I couldn’t get Daniel out of my head. We’d only talked for, I don’t know, a few hours. But it was wonderful. He treated me like I was a real person. He told me to trust my judgment. That I was smart, I was pretty.” A grimace. “Oh, I wasn’t really—not either of those things. But when he said it I believed him.