“But there’s a little twist,” she went on. “I’d like your opinion. Our door-to-doors turned up two eyewitness reports of a Humvee in the area late yesterday afternoon. One witness insisted it was the original military model, not the later GM version. They both saw it passing back and forth two or three times along the stretch of road that includes the Blum residence.”

“You’re thinking someone was scouting out the area?”

“Possibly, but like I said, there’s a twist. According to the tire tracks, the vehicle that was parked last night at the body shop was not a Humvee.” She paused. “Any thoughts on that?”

Two scenarios came to mind. “The killer might have a helper. Or …” Gurney hesitated, working his way through his second option, weighing its plausibility.

“Or what?” prompted Bullard.

“Well, let’s say I’m right about the Facebook message—that it was posted by the killer, not the victim. The message refers to some kind of military vehicle. So maybe the purpose of the message was to plant the Humvee idea. And maybe driving one up and down that road was designed to get it noticed, get it reported, make us sure it was the killer’s vehicle.”

“Why go to all that trouble if he was going to park a different car where it wouldn’t be noticed anyway?”

“Maybe the Humvee idea is supposed to lead us somewhere.”

Maybe it’s supposed to lead us to Max Clinter? But why?

Bullard remained silent so long that Gurney was about to ask if she was still there.

“You have a serious interest in this, don’t you?” she said finally.

“I tried to make that clear earlier today.”

“Okay. Let me get to the point. I have a meeting tomorrow morning with Matt Trout to discuss the case and the jurisdictional issues. How would you like to come along?”

Gurney was momentarily speechless. The invitation made no sense. Or maybe it did. “How well do you know Agent Daker?” he asked.

“I met him for the first time today.” There was a chill in her voice. “Why do you ask?”

Her reaction encouraged him to take a chance. “Because I think he and his boss are arrogant, controlling little bastards.”

“My impression is that they hold you in equally high regard.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Did Daker fill you in on the original case?”

“Filling me in was the stated purpose of the visit. The reality was a disorganized data dump.”

“They probably want to overwhelm you, make you see the case as an impossible tangle of complications—so you fade away quietly and cede jurisdiction without an argument.”