Dance looked at the adoption paperwork, the letter.

“Mary-Gordon doesn’t know?”

“No. Bishop forced Suellyn and her husband to sign a nondisclosure agreement. If they said a word they might lose custody.”

Dance closed her eyes briefly and shook her head at this news about Bishop Towne, which disturbed but didn’t surprise her one bit.

Zeigler gave a bitter laugh. “I’m not the only desperate person in this business.”

She slipped the documents back into the envelope and put it into her purse. “I’ll think about it. For now, you were looking for some personal papers at Bobby’s. What you found and took had no value and had nothing to do with the case.” She looked him over coolly. “But you’re still a suspect in the murders.”

“I was in Carmel, at a hotel, when Bobby died.”

“Can anybody verify that?”

He thought for a moment. Then said, “I was by myself…. I was really upset—I’d just been fired by my other major artist. The only contact I had with anybody was a message I left for my wife.” He glanced up at Dance with miserable eyes. “Is that any good—a voicemail where you’re sobbing like a ten-year-old that your career is probably over?”

“It could be,” Dance told him.

Chapter 51

“NO BEATLES?” DENNIS Harutyun asked, visibly disappointed the news wasn’t true. This was the most emotional she’d seen him.

“Doesn’t look that way.”

Dance had phoned Martine, her website partner and a true musical historian, who made some calls and reported back about what Zeigler had said. Yes, there’d been rumors for years of undiscovered Fab Four songs but the consensus was just as the producer explained.

Dance, Harutyun and Crystal Stanning stood in a cluster in the parking lot of the Red Roof Inn. The lights of the patrol cars were flashing urgently. Maybe this was procedure but Dance wished they’d shut them off.

O’Neil was on the phone. Finally he ended the call and looked up. “His alibi? It’s good.”

The cell phone data and the voiceprint of the “sobbing ten-year-old” confirmed that at the moment Bobby Prescott was being murdered in the Fresno convention center, Barry Zeigler was over two hours away.

“Why’d he break into Bobby’s trailer?” Harutyun asked. “What was he after?”

Dance shrugged. “Apparently it’s personal. Nothing to do with the case. I believe him.”

O’Neil’s eyes swung toward her, amused. Was her behavior deviating from her baseline? Which he, of all people, would know very well.

The Fresno deputy said, “Hardly seems worth the trouble, collaring him for that. But, I’ll tell you, bad judgment ought to be a misdemeanor.” He walked over to his car, got Zeigler out and uncuffed him. Dance didn’t know what transpired between the two but she assumed it involved a stern talking-to. With a glance toward Dance, the producer collected his computer bag and returned to his room, rubbing his wrists.

Dance decided to give the documents to Kayleigh and let her decide how to handle the matter.