“The FBI is convinced,” I reply and she nods. “Based on what? How can you know what they’re convinced of?”

“When I flew back from Bermuda recently I landed at Logan and within minutes Customs police were all over my plane.”

“Stop.” I hold up my hand and pause on the driveway again. “Before you continue, why would the Feds care if you were in Bermuda? Why would they be monitoring you there?”

“Maybe because of who they suspected I was seeing.”

I think of Carrie as I ask, “And who was that?”

“I was seeing a friend of Janet’s. No one you need to concern yourself with.”

“I’d say there’s a need for me to concern myself since it would seem this person is someone the FBI is interested in.”

“And they’ll just keep on snooping around in case Carrie really does exist.”

“If she doesn’t then who did this to my leg?” I tamp down a flare of anger.

“Long story short, the FBI sicced Customs on me. They went through everything on my plane and asked me a long list of questions about my trip, about why I was traveling and had I been scuba diving. They held me for well over an hour and I have no doubt about the point of it. They were instructed to look for the mask, for recording devices, in other words for items the FBI had interest in but didn’t want to tip their hand about with me. The FBI couldn’t crawl all over my plane and go through my luggage to their hearts content without drawing huge attention. But Customs could.”

I don’t know how Lucy could have gotten hold of my scuba mask, and next I think of Benton. If he found it and never turned it in he would be guilty of tampering with evidence, obstruction of justice, anything his FBI compatriots might hurl at him.

“Should we be …?” I don’t finish the question as I make a point of looking at lampposts, at the cameras mounted on them.

“I’ve been knocking out the audio of every camera we pass. I’m sure they know I’m doing it. As soon as I get inside they’ll take my phone so I can’t tamper with my own security system,” Lucy says. “They were going through my scuba gear earlier.”

“But you weren’t diving with me when it happened.”

“They’ll make a case that I was.”

“That’s ridiculous. You weren’t even in Florida.”

“Prove it.”

“They’re making a case that you were with me when I was shot? You were on that dive? How could they possibly make a case for that? You weren’t with us.”

“Who will irrefutably prove I wasn’t?” She continues to push her point. “Benton and you? Because everyone else isn’t talking.”