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"He has? Really? What's that mean?"
"We're looking into whether or not he's guilty of stalking."
"Edwin?" She sounded genuinely surprised.
Dance jotted this impression in her notebook.
"Have you heard from him lately?"
"No. It's been months and months."
"Sally, tell me: Did he ever threaten you?"
"Threaten? No, never."
"Did he ever threaten or show excessive interest in other women that you know about?"
"No. I can't even picture it."
"Did you ever see him engage in any obsessive behavior?"
"Well, like, I don't know what you mean exactly. He got pretty intense, maybe you'd call it obsessive. He'd get into something, like totally get excited about a Wii game or some fantasy author and he'd buy all their books."
"How about people, stars, musicians?"
"He liked movies. Yeah, he went a lot. In theaters, not on TV so much. But his big thing was music, yeah. He really liked Cassie McGuire and Kayleigh Towne and Charlie Holmes and Mike Norman--you know them?"
"Yes, I do." The latter two, Dance noted, were men.
"And then this band from Seattle, the Pointless Bricks. I know it's a stupid name but they're really, really good. Edwin totally loved them. If he was going to see somebody in concert he'd get tickets way ahead of time and make sure that his schedule let him get away. He'd be at the concert hall like three hours early, even if he had reserved seats, and he'd stand in line afterwards, hoping to get an autograph. And he'd get their souvenirs on eBay. It was a waste of money. I mean, to me, that's pretty obsessive."
"After you left him, did you have a problem with him calling you, following you? Harassing you?"
"No. I mean he'd call sometimes about something he'd left at my apartment, and we'd taken out a loan together and we had to talk about that, sign some papers. But, stalking, no, nothing like that. Only one thing? You said when I left him. That's not what happened. He left me."
Dance could have kicked herself. And earlier she'd been mentally chastising P. K. Madigan for leading Edwin during the interview; here she was doing exactly the same.
"Tell me what happened."
"He just said the relationship wasn't working. I was pretty bummed. He wasn't, you know, real ambitious. He never wanted to be more than a security guard or work retail. But he was romantic and he was dependable. He didn't drink and he'd pretty much given up smoking when I was with him."
"So he used to smoke," Dance said, thinking of her own voyeur in the park near the motel.
"Yeah, but only when he was stressed. So, he left and I was pretty bummed out for a couple of months."
"Did he go out with anybody else?"
"Not really. He dated a few girls. I don't know who. We fell out of touch."
"One last question. Did you ever see him get violent or lose control?"
A pause. "Yeah, I did."
"Tell me."
Sally explained, "Okay, once me and my girlfriend and Edwin were walking down the street and this drunk guy came up, I mean, way, way drunk. And he called us sluts. And Edwin goes up to him and shouts, 'Apologize right now, you asshole.' And the guy did."
Dance waited. "That was it? He never hit this man?"
