“Half mile down the state route, back in the direction of Ithaca, there’s an auto-body shop. There are some cars and trucks in a scruffy little parking area beside it, either waiting to be worked on or waiting to be picked up. It’s the one place in the neighborhood where a strange vehicle wouldn’t raise a question—wouldn’t even be noticed. If I were going to kill someone in this house in the middle of the night, I’d park there, and then I’d walk the rest of the way here in that deep swale by the side of the road to avoid being seen by passing drivers.”

She stared down at the tabletop, as though trying to see the possibilities in an imaginary set of scrabble letters. She made a face. “Theoretically, that might make sense. Problem is, her Facebook posting specifically refers to a vehicle pulling in—”

“You mean the Facebook posting.”

“I don’t get what—”

“You’re assuming it was her posting.”

“It was her account, her page, her computer, her password.”

“Couldn’t her murderer have extracted the password from her before he killed her, opened the page, and composed the message himself?”

Bullard redoubled her scrutiny of the tabletop. She shook her head uncertainly. “That’s conceivable. But like your body-shop theory, there’s no evidence to support it.”

Gurney smiled at the opening. “After your boys in the white suits confirm that the dirt in the crack at the end of the driveway hasn’t been disturbed, ask them to pay a visit to the body shop. It would be interesting to see if they can find a relatively fresh set of tire tracks that don’t match up with any of the vehicles there.”

“But … why would the killer take the time and trouble to leave a message like that on Facebook?”

“Sand in our eyes. A twist in the maze. He’s very good at that.”

Something in her expression told him she was open to every speck of information she could lay her hands on.

“How much do you know about the original case?” he asked.

“Not as much as I need to,” she admitted. “Someone from the FBI field office is on his way here to give me a briefing. Speaking of which, I’ll need your address, e-mail, phone numbers where you can be reached twenty-four hours a day. You have any problem with that?”

“No problem at all.”

“I’ll give you my e-mail and cell number. I assume you’ll pass along any relevant facts that come your way?”

“Be happy to.”

“Okay. I’m totally out of time here. We’ll talk again.”