FBI can come in even when there's no crossing of state lines? When there's no ransom demand?"
The agent nodded.
"Any suspicious disappearance of a child under eleven," he said. "We've offered all our facilities to the Nashville police and the Memphis police. We've got forensic experts examining the body. Our guys already went over the grave. Thank God whoever killed Nunley didn't dump him there before our team had finished. And the same team has been all over the grave this morning since the body was found."
I shut my eyes and leaned back in my chair.
"Of course, Nunley was here last night grabbing you by the arm, Ms. Connelly. But we know he left after that. He wouldn't let the hotel staff call him a cab. They saw him get in his car and leave. Did he contact you again last night?"
"No," I said. "He didn't."
"Why was he so angry?"
"He thought I'd cheated somehow. He was having trouble accepting my ability as real. He was trying to find a rational explanation for something that's just unexplainable." I wondered if I needed to call Art Barfield.
Seth Koenig looked thoughtful, as if he was making a very large mental note.
"And where were you, Mr. Lang?" Koenig asked.
"I was walking down Beale Street, trying to find some good blues to listen to. Doing a tourist thing."
"What time did you get back to the hotel?"
"About seven, I think. Harper had been asleep."
"I was upset after the little scene with Dr. Nunley," I explained. "I had a terrible headache. I took some medicine and lay down."
"Did anyone see you here during that time?"
"I didn't have room service, and no one called." Dammit.
"And you, Mr. Lang?"
"It's possible someone will remember me in some of the places I stopped in on Beale." Tolliver listed the places he'd visited, and told Agent Koenig he'd had a beer at one bar. "It's also possible no one will recall me. The street wasn't crammed with people, but it was busy enough."
"And you were on foot?"
"Yes, we took a cab to the movies."
"You saw what movie?"
We went all through our afternoon, including our meeting with Xylda Bernardo and her grandson Manfred.
"I've met Ms. Bernardo," Koenig said, a slight smile on his lips. It was the first time I'd seen him smile, and it looked good on him.
He stayed another hour, taking us over the afternoon and evening over and over. Just when I was beginning to think we were home free, Koenig said, "And now we come to an interesting point. Who was the man in the lobby with you last night, the man who sent Dr. Nunley on his way?"
I'd wondered when he was going to get around to Rick Goldman. "His name is Rick Goldman. He's a private detective, he told me," I said carefully. "He was in the class at the cemetery, so he was there two mornings ago. According to him, he signed up for Occult Studies because the--well, a faction of the governing board, whatever it's called--was a little uneasy about Dr. Nunley's class. According to him, they'd asked him to take the courses, observe what happened, and report back to them."
"You got his card?"
"We aren't on those terms."
Koenig snorted. He'd taken a couple of notes. Now he put his little notebook back into his pocket. I was a bit surprised that he didn't use something higher-tech, like a BlackBerry.
"One more question," he said, wanting me to relax so he could spring something on me. I refused to take his unspoken invitation to breathe easier. "When you two went out last night, why'd you return to the St. Margaret's cemetery?"
Chapter ten
I'D been waiting, like a cartoon character with a piano hoisted over its head, for the big collapse of the conversation, and here it was.
Tolliver and I glanced at each other. We had a choice to make. Did Koenig know we'd been there because he had solid evidence of our presence? Was this sheer conjecture, a stab in the dark to see if he hit a nerve? Or did he only know we'd taken our car out?
Tolliver tilted his head slightly. Up to you, he was saying.
"We went for a long drive. We had cabin fever," I said. "We just looked at Memphis. We've never been here before. But we avoided anywhere we might be recognized. We don't want any more media attention. We want to be out of here, and out of the public eye."
"You're one of the few people I could hear say those