The young agent explained, “The company’s a service provider in Denver. You can create your own domain, as long as the name’s not taken by somebody else. It’s an anonymous account. But we’re getting a warrant to look at the archives.”

“Anonymous? Then why do you think it was Rebecca?” Overby asked.

“Look at the email. That phrase. ‘Who could ask for anything more in a girl?’ It’s not that common. It stuck with me because it echoes a line in an old Gershwin song.”

“Why is that important?”

“Because Rebecca used the exact expression the first time I met her.”

Overby said, “Still—”

She pushed forward, not in the mood to be obstructed. “Now, let’s look at the facts. Jennie stole the Thunderbird from that restaurant in L.A. on Friday and checked into the Sea View on Saturday. Her phone and credit card records show she was in Orange County all last week. But the woman who checked out the You Mail It office near the courthouse was there on Wednesday. We faxed a warrant to Rebecca’s credit card companies. She flew from San Diego to Monterey on Tuesday, flew back on Thursday. Rented a car here.”

“Okay,” Overby allowed.

“Now, I’m guessing that in Capitola it wasn’t Jennie that Pell was talking to; it was Rebecca. He must’ve given her Jennie’s name and street and email address. Rebecca took over from there. They picked her because she lived near Rebecca, at least close enough to check her out.”

Kellogg added, “So she knows where Pell is, what he’s doing here.”

“Has to.”

Overby said, “Let’s pick her up. You can work your magic, Kathryn.”

“I want her in custody, but I need some more information before I interrogate her. I want to talk to Nagle.”

“The writer?”

She nodded. Then said to Kellogg, “Can you bring Rebecca in?”

“Sure, if you can get some backup for me.”

Overby said he’d call the MCSO and have another officer meet Kellogg outside the Point Lobos Inn. The agent in charge surprised Dance by pointing out something she hadn’t thought of: They had no reason to think Rebecca was armed, but since she’d driven from San Diego and not gone through airport security she could have a weapon with her.

Dance said, “Good, Charles.” Then, a nod at TJ. “Let’s go see Nagle.”

Dance and the younger agent were en route to their destination when her phone rang.

“Hello?”

Winston Kellogg said in an uncharacteristically urgent voice, “Kathryn, she’s gone.”

“Rebecca?”

“Yes.”

“Are the others okay?”

“They’re fine. Linda said Rebecca wasn’t feeling well, went to lie down. Didn’t want to be disturbed. We found her bedroom window open but her car’s still at CBI.”

“So Pell picked her up?”

“I’m guessing.”

“How long ago?”

“She went to bed an hour ago. They don’t know when she slipped out.”

If Rebecca had wanted to hurt the other women, she could’ve done it herself or snuck Pell in through the window. Dance decided they weren’t at immediate risk, especially with the guards.