The Sleeping Doll

"Think we should tell somebody at the desk?"

"I'll give the police a call. I'm probably wrong but what can it hurt?" He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. He spoke for a few minutes, then disco

"Wouldn't mind that." She wasn't so much worried about the escapee; she just liked the idea of spending more time with Gutierrez.

They walked along the main street in downtown Alvarado. Now it was the home of restaurants, tourist shops and coffeehouses-a lot different from the Wild West avenue it was a hundred years ago, when soldiers and Ca

As Gutierrez and Susan walked along, their conversation was subdued and they both looked around them. She realized the streets were unusually deserted. Was that because of the escape? Now she began to feel uneasy.

Her office was next to a construction site a block from Alvarado. There were piles of building materials here; if Pell had come this way, she reflected, he could easily be hiding behind them, waiting. She slowed.

"That's your car?" Gutierrez asked.

She nodded.

"Something wrong?"

Susan gave a grimace and an embarrassed laugh. She told him she was worried about Pell hiding in the building supplies.

He smiled. "Even if he was here he wouldn't attack two of us together. Come on."

"César, wait," she said, reaching into her purse. She handed him a small, red cylinder. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Pepper spray. Just in case."

"I think we'll be okay. But how does it work?" Then he laughed. "Don't want to spray myself."

"All you have to do is point it and push there. It's ready to go."

They continued to the car and by the time they got there, Susan was feeling foolish. No crazed killers were lurking behind the piles of bricks. She wondered if her skittishness had lost her points in the potential date department. She didn't think so. Gutierrez seemed to enjoy the role of gallant gentleman.

She unlocked the doors.

"I better give this back to you," he said, holding out the spray.

Susan reached for it.

But Gutierrez lunged fast, grabbed her hair and jerked her head back fiercely. He shoved the nozzle of the canister into her mouth, open in a stifled scream.

He pushed the button.

Agony, reflected Daniel Pell, is perhaps the fastest way to control somebody.

Still in his apparently effective disguise as a Latino businessman, he was driving Susan Pemberton's car to a deserted location near the ocean, south of Carmel.

Agony…Hurt them bad, give them a little time to recover, then threaten to hurt them again. Experts say torture isn't efficient. That's wrong. It isn't elegant. It isn't tidy. But it works real well.

The spray up Susan Pemberton's mouth and nose had been only a second in duration but from her muffled scream and thrashing limbs he knew the pain was nearly unbearable. He let her recover. Brandished the spray in front of her panicked, watering eyes. And immediately got from her exactly what he wanted.

He hadn't pla

Daniel Pell had things to do in public and, with his picture ru

Earlier in the day Pell had called the Brock Company and gotten Susan Pemberton, who'd agreed to meet about pla

Oh, it had been nice! Playing Susan like a fish was a luxurious high, even better than watching Je

He now replayed the techniques: finding a common fear (the escaped killer) and common passions (John Steinbeck and jazz, which he knew little about, but he was a good bluffer); playing the sex game (her glance at his bare ring finger and stoic smile when he'd mentioned children told him all about Susan Pemberton's romantic life); doing something silly and laughing about it (the spilled ci

Little by little gaining trust-and therefore gaining control.

What a total high it was to practice his art once again in the real world!

Pell found the turnoff. It led through a dense grove of trees, toward the ocean. Je

He didn't have to wait long. Je

She parked, climbed out and walked to him. "Honey, I hope you didn't have to wait long." She hungrily closed her mouth around his, gripping his face in both her hands. Desperate.

Pell came up for air.

She laughed. "It's hard to get used to you like this. I mean, I knew it was you, but still, I did a double take, you know. But it's like me and my short hair-it'll grow back and you'll be white again."

"Come here." He took her hand and sat on a low sand dune, pulled her down next to him.

"Aren't we leaving?" she asked.

"Not quite yet."

A nod at the Lexus. "Whose car is that? I thought your friend was going to drop you off."

He said nothing. They looked west at the Pacific Ocean. The sun was a pale disk just approaching the horizon, growing more fiery by the minute.

She'd be thinking: Does he want to talk, does he want to fuck me? What's going on?

Uncertainty…Pell let it run up. She'd be noticing that he wasn't smiling.

Concern flowed in like high tide. He felt the tension in her hand and arm.

Finally he asked, "How much do you love me?"

She didn't hesitate, though Pell noted something cautious in her response. "As big as that sun."

"Looks small from here."

"I mean as big as the sun really is. No, as big as the universe," she added quickly, as if trying to correct a wrong answer in class.

Pell was quiet.

"What's the matter, Daniel?"

"I have a problem. And I don't know what to do about it."

She tensed. "A problem, sweetheart?"

So it's "sweetie" when she's happy, "sweetheart" when she's troubled. Good to know. He filed that away.

"That meeting I had?" He'd told her only that he was going to meet someone about a "business thing."