I raised my voice above terrible static.

“In my car,” he said. “Connie and I spent Christmas with her family in Charlottesville. We’re just west of there on our way to Hot Springs. I heard about what happened to Susan Story. God, I’m sorry. I was going to call you tonight”

“You’re breaking up. I almost can’t hear you.”

“Hold on.”

I waited impatiently for a good minute. Then he was back.

“That’s better. We were in a low area. Listen, what do you need from me?”

“I need the Bureau’s help with analysis of some feathers.”

“No problem. I’ll call Downey.”

“I need to talk,” I said with great reluctance, for I knew I was putting him on the spot. “I don’t feel it can wait.”

“Hold on.”

This time the pause was not due to static. He was conferring with his wife.

“Do you ski?” His voice came back.

“It depends on who you ask.”

“Connie and I are on our way to the Homestead for a couple of days. We could talk there. Can you get away?”

“I’ll move heaven and earth to, and I’ll bring Lucy.”

“That’s good. She and, Connie can pal around while you and I talk. I’ll see about your room when we check in. Can you bring something for me to look at?”

“Yes.”

“Including whatever you’ve got on the Robyn Naismith case. Let’s cover every base and every imagined one.”

“Thank you, Benton,” I said gratefully. “And please thank Connie.”

I decided to leave the office immediately, and offered little explanation.

“It will be good for you,” Rose said, jotting down the Homestead’s number. She did not understand that my intention was not to unwind at a five-star resort. For an instant, her eyes were bright with tears as I told her to let Marino know where I was so he could contact me immediately if there were any new developments in Susan’s case.

“Please don’t release my whereabouts to anyone else,” I added.

“Three reporters have called in the last twenty minutes,” she said. “Including the Washington Post.”

“I’m not discussing Susan’s case right now. Tell them the usual, that we’re waiting on lab results. Just tell them I’m out of town and unavailable.”

I was haunted by images as I drove west toward the mountains. I pictured Susan in her baggy scrubs, and the faces of her mother and father as Marino told them their daughter was dead.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Lucy asked. She had been looking at me every other minute since we left my house.

“I’m just preoccupied,” I replied, concentrating on the toad. “You’re going to love skiing. I have a feeling you’ll be good at it.”

She silently gazed out the windshield. The sky was a washed-out denim blue, mountains rising in the distance dusted with snow.