“You wouldn’t have necessarily. But based on what I saw in the videos she may have been romantically involved with Carrie.” I go on to say that Carrie and Lucy had one of their worst fights and may have broken up because of the former beauty queen from Tennessee who has just raided Lucy’s property and is now married to a federal judge.

“Agents climbing all over the place and with a chopper up?” Marino is busy picking off dirt and bits of wet grass and leaves stuck to his bare wet lower legs. “And we were walking around too? And she puts a possible murder weapon inside your crime scene truck?” He’s not talking about Erin Loria anymore. He’s talking about Carrie. “What for? To help us out? To help us work some other scene we don’t even know about yet?”

“Even if she figured that I might be driving this today? We have to ask what scene might she have known about in advance.” I shove the gearshift into reverse and check my mirrors. “And I’m voting for this one.”

I back up and pull forward, maneuvering as far off the driveway as I can without running over shrubs or hitting trees. I suggest we should consider that she has planned and concocted everything we’re experiencing including the homicide scene we’re on right now. She knew I’d respond to it personally and which vehicle I’d choose.

“I’m in town,” I continue to explain. “Anybody watching me would know that I’m not traveling. I’m here. I’m back to working cases like usual and that wouldn’t have been true even a couple of weeks ago.”

“She’d know all that if she’s hacked into the CFC computer.”

“Lucy says she hasn’t.”

“I don’t care what Lucy says. That doesn’t mean it’s true. Not when you consider who we’re talking about.”

“If the CFC database has been hacked and the hacker is Carrie?” I reply. “Then yes. She could know everything about where I am and when and why.”

“Your calendar, everything is electronic.”

“That’s right. But Lucy says the CFC database is safe.” I check the mirrors and am startled by the blacked-out Suburban with glass tinted as dark as Darth Vader.

It seems the ominous SUV has appeared out of nowhere and is parked behind us with no lights or siren on. Its engine is drowned out by the storm and the diesel rumble of my truck.

“I’m going to have to let them in the house and you need to stay put,” Marino says to me as the Suburban’s doors open simultaneously.

He opens his door and holds the cigarette out in the rain to extinguish it. He drops the wet butt into the water bottle.