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“Yeah,” said Charlie. “I think he’s the guy.”
“Let’s hope so,” Valerie said. “Has he lawyered up?”
“Nope,” Charlie said. “He says he doesn’t need one.”
“Okay, let’s do this,” she said, opening the door.
Inside, she saw a man sitting in handcuffs. He was thin with sharp features, and his eyes were piercing. He didn’t avert them. He didn’t look at something else in the room. He stared at Valerie, his face blank.
This was a man with supreme confidence.
“I’m Agent Law with the FBI,” Valerie said. “And this is …”
“Yeah, I know him,” he said, nodding to Sheriff Carter. “I’ve seen you at the Gleeson farm, haven’t I?”
“Maybe,” Carter replied, sitting down on a chair opposite the man. Valerie and Charlie followed suit. “I don’t remember seeing you there.”
The man didn’t answer that.
“Sheriff Carter seems to be an astute fellow, Mr. Nielsen,” Valerie continued. “If he can’t remember seeing you at the farm, and you saw him, could it be that you watched from a distance?”
“I always watch from a distance,” the man grinned. “Life is safer that way.”
“You didn’t keep your distance with Will Cooper today,” Charlie said. “I’m betting you didn’t keep your distance with Maggie, either.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered. “Can I have a cigarette?”
“There’s no smoking in here,” the sheriff said, coolly
Lance Nielsen shook his head silently.
“Do you like watching people from a distance, Mr. Nielsen?” Valerie asked.
“Sometimes, but let me guess, you’re going to try to say I’m a predatory type?”
“Well, are you?” Sheriff Carter asked straight up.
“No!”
This was the first emotional outburst Valerie had seen from the man. His brow had furrowed, and he momentarily had let the mask slip.
He’s emotional and impulsive, she thought.I’ll use it.
“Why are you so defensive?” she asked.
“I’m not, but I’m also no idiot,” he replied. “The world always hates people like me. They mean to make me a sicko when all I want is to be left alone.”
“People like you?” Valerie sensed a persecution complex. This was quite common in the serial killer literature. A man with crippling feelings of inadequacy and persecution, aroused, and empowered by acts of murder.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, rolling his eyes.
Valerie thought to the texts Charlie had sent her on her way over. Lance Nielsen had been seen by several people down on the Gleeson farm, wandering around the hills.
“Where are you living right now, Mr. Nielsen?” Valerie asked.
“I am nowhere, and I am everywhere.”
A sense of grandeur and flourish, Valerie thought.Another common trait among killers.
