Two men got out. Each wore a dark suit, blue tie, and eye-blistering white shirt. I watched the pair walk toward me.

“Dr. Brennan?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m Special Agent Carl Williams.” Williams flashed a badge. He was small and compact, with mahogany skin and nostrils that flared spectacularly.

I looked at Williams’s badge, then at his companion.

“With me is Special Agent Percy Randall.”

Randall was tall and pale, with wide-set gray eyes and a quarter-inch buzz. He nodded slightly.

Keys in hand, I waited.

“I suppose you know why we’re here.” While Williams took the lead, Randall observed me closely.

“I have no idea.” I didn’t.

“Two days ago you recovered a body from the Morehead Road landfill.”

I neither confirmed nor denied the statement.

“You’ve been asking about Cindi Gamble and Cale Lovette.”

Didn’t expect that. Had Wayne Gamble contacted the FBI? Slidell? Galimore? How would Galimore know what names I’d queried?

“What is it you want?” I asked.

“We can’t help wondering if the man from the dump is Cale Lovette.”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss medical examiner files. You’ll have to speak to Dr. Larabee.”

“We’re trying to contact him. In the meantime, we hoped you could save us some shoe leather.” Williams did something with his mouth that might have been a smile.

“Sorry,” I said.

A drop hit my forehead. Backhanding the moisture, I glanced skyward.

“I wasn’t involved in the Gamble-Lovette inquiry back in ’ninety-eight.” Williams ignored my not so subtle hint. “Those special agents are now gone from North Carolina. But I can assure you, the task force carried out a thorough and comprehensive investigation.”

“I’ve no reason to doubt that, but I understand they didn’t locate either live persons or bodies.”

“Wayne Gamble was a child at the time. He didn’t fully understand the effort that went into searching for his sister. The task force concluded she had gone underground.”

“Is there something specific you wish to discuss?” A steady rain was falling now.

“Task force members canvassed family, friends, teachers, students, coworkers—anyone who’d had even the most casual contact with Gamble or Lovette.”

“Grady Winge?” Winge was the last to see Cindi and Cale alive. His name came out before I even thought about it.

Williams’s lower lids pinched up ever so slightly. “Of course. Everyone searched until the trail went dead. The consensus was that Gamble and Lovette had left the area of their own volition.”

“The parents didn’t think so. Nor did Ethel Bradford.” I tossed out the teacher’s name, implying I knew more about the investigation than I actually did. Which was virtually nothing.

“Mr. Gamble is still upset.” Williams’s tone remained absolutely neutral. “And that is understandable. He lost his sister. The bureau has no problem with his wish to reopen the case.”

If Williams wanted a response, I disappointed him.