Linda explained that Pell believed in books. “He loved them. He made a ceremony out of throwing out the TV. Almost every night I’d read something aloud, with everyone else gathered in a circle on the floor. Those were nice nights.”

“Were there any neighbors or other friends in Seaside he had a particular connection with?”

“We didn’t have friends,” Rebecca said. “Pell wasn’t like that.”

“But some people he’d met would come by, stay for a while, then leave. He was always picking up people.”

“Losers like us.”

Linda stiffened slightly. Then said, “Well, I’d say people down on their luck. Daniel was generous. Gave them food, money sometimes.”

You give a hungry man food, he’ll do what you want, Dance reflected, recalling Kellogg’s profile of a cult leader and his subjects.

They continued reminiscing but the conversation didn’t trigger any recollections of who the houseguests might’ve been. Dance moved on.

“There are some things he searched for online recently. I was wondering if they mean anything to you. One was ‘Nimue.’ I was thinking it might be a name. A nickname or computer screen name maybe.”

“No. I’ve never heard of it. What does it mean?”

“It’s a character out of the King Arthur legend.”

Rebecca looked at the younger woman. “Hey, did you read us any of those stories?”

Linda didn’t recall. Nor had they any recollection of an Alison—the other name Pell had searched for.

“Tell me about a typical day in the Family.”

Rebecca seemed at a loss for words. “We’d get up, have breakfast…I don’t know.”

Shrugging, Linda said, “We were just a family. We talked about what families talk about. The weather, plans, trips we were going to take. Money problems. Who was going to be working where. Sometimes I’d stand in the kitchen after breakfast, doing dishes, and just cry—because I was so happy. I had a real family at last.”

Rebecca agreed that their life hadn’t been very different from anyone else’s, though she clearly wasn’t as sentimental as her sister-in-crime.

The discussion meandered and they revealed nothing helpful. In interviewing and interrogation, it’s a well-known rule that abstractions obscure memories, while specifics trigger them. Dance now said, “Do this for me: Pick a particular day. Tell me about it. A day you’d both remember.”

Neither could think of one that stood out, though.

Until Dance suggested, “Think of a holiday: Thanksgiving, Christmas.”

Linda shrugged. “How about that Easter?”

“My first holiday there. My only holiday. Sure. That was fun.”

Linda described making an elaborate dinner with food that Sam, Jimmy and Rebecca had “come up with.” Dance spotted the euphemism instantly; it meant the trio had stolen the groceries.

“I cooked a turkey,” Linda said. “I smoked it all day in the backyard. My, that was fun.”

Prodding, Dance asked, “So there you are, you two and Samantha—she was the quiet one, you said.”

“The Mouse.”

“And the young man who was with Pell at the Croytons’,” Kellogg said. “Jimmy Newberg. Tell us about him.”