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Just what I need. If thoughts could sigh, hers would have been clearly audible.
"Agent Dance. Can I join you?"
She gestured to an empty chair, trying not to look too invitational. But she did pull out the ear buds.
He sat, the chair squeaking, plastic and metal in tension under his frame, and leaned forward, elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of him. This position generally signifies directness. She noted his suit again. The blue didn't work. Not dark enough. Or, alternatively, she thought unkindly, he should be wearing a sailor's hat with a shiny brim.
"I heard. The case is over, correct?"
"We've got the perp. We're still searching for the boy."
"For Travis?" Royce asked, surprised.
"That's right."
"But he's dead, don't you think?"
"No."
"Oh." A pause. "That's the one thing I regret," Royce said. "That's the worst of it all. That innocent boy."
Dance noted that this reaction, at least, was honest.
She said nothing more.
Royce offered, "I'll be headed back to Sacramento in a day or two. Look, I know we had some problems earlier. . . . Well, disagreements. I wanted to apologize."
Decent of him, though she remained skeptical. She said, "We saw things differently. I didn't take any offense. Not personally."
But, professionally, she thought, I was totally pissed you tried to flank me.
"There was a lot of pressure from Sacramento. I mean, a lot. I got carried away in the heat of the moment." He looked away, partly embarrassed. And partly deceptive too; he didn't feel that bad, Dance noticed. But she gave him credit for trying to make nice. He continued, "Not often that you're in a situation like this, is it? Where you have to protect somebody as unpopular as Chilton." He didn't seem to expect an answer. He gave a hollow laugh. "You know something? In a funny way I've come to admire him."
"Chilton?"
A nod. "I don't agree with much of what he says. But he's got moral character. And not a lot of people do nowadays. Even in the face of a murder threat, he stayed the course. And he'll probably keep right on going. Don't you think?"
"I assume so." She said nothing about the possible termination of The Chilton Report.
That wasn't her business, or Royce's.
"You know what I'd like to do? Apologize to him too."
"Would you?"
"I tried his house. Nobody was answering. Do you know where he is?"
"He and his family're going to their vacation home in Hollister tomorrow. Tonight, they're staying at a hotel. I don't know where. Their house is a crime scene."
"Well, I suppose I could email him at his blog."
She was wondering if this would ever happen.
Then, silence. Time for my exit, Dance thought. She snagged the last cookie, wrapped it in a napkin and headed for the lunchroom door. "Have a safe drive, Mr. Royce."
"Again, I'm truly sorry, Agent Dance. I look forward to working with you in the future."
Her kinesic skills easily fired off a message that his comment had contained two lies.
