Tolliver and I exchanged a glance. It took all my self-control to keep from covering my eyes with my hand. We hadn't known how lucky we were. If the campus police had caught us there with the corpse, no way in hell would anyone have believed we were innocent.
"So, Agent Koenig, why do you think the killer drove the car away and brought it back?" I asked. "Let me put on my thinking cap." I held a finger to my cheek in a parody of concentration.
Actually, I already had a pretty good idea. Or rather, three ideas. One, the killer wanted to get the car cleaned to erase any forensic traces. Two, the killer had to fetch something and take it back to the cemetery to complete the picture he was trying to paint. Three, the killer heard us coming and wanted to get the car out of there while we were approaching, so we wouldn't see who was driving.
Seth Koenig looked from me to Tolliver with a stony face, not amused in the least. He said. "That man is dead. If you can't take that seriously, you're just not human."
"Playing the not-human card," I said to Tolliver.
"As if we hadn't heard that one before," he said.
"I know what you're doing," the agent said. "And you're good at it, I'll give you that. Were the rocks in the grave when you saw the body?"
"We didn't see the body," I said flatly.
"They were big rocks. Big enough to crack a skull," Koenig said. "I think that's why the killer had to come and go. He had to go get a couple of big rocks. He threw them down in the grave so they'd land on Nunley's head—might have taken a couple of tries. The killer wanted the scene to look as though Nunley might have tripped and fallen into the open grave. But we're pretty sure that just didn't happen. Dr. Nunley was almost certainly murdered."
"Dum-dum-dum," I said.
"I know you're not laughing inside about this," Koenig said. "I know you want me to leave so you can talk about it. I'm letting you know I'm available for further conversation. And if you remember anything, you're smart enough to realize we need to know about it." He rose, in an easy motion that made me envious.
"We understand," Tolliver said, getting up at the same time. He stood between Koenig and me. "We'll be talking to you." He hesitated. "I appreciate that you're doing your best with this case. It's bothered Harper a lot, too." He looked back at me, and I nodded. Though we were ready, past ready, for Koenig to leave, this had been a much more amicable interview than we usually had with anyone who carried a badge.
When the door shut behind Koenig, Tolliver didn't move for a long moment. Then he turned to me with raised brows.
"That was different," I agreed.
"The bad thing about him being halfway nice is that I almost don't like lying to him," my brother said. "The good thing is, he gave us a lot of useful information." His face darkened. "Like the time of death."
I nodded. "That's pretty scary, huh? That we got there at just the right moment not to run into the murderer?"
"I wonder if we were that lucky. I wonder if the murderer wasn't parked somewhere, watching us—to see if we'd find the body and call the cops. If we didn't, he'd know he needed to do something different, because there'd be no point in bringing the car back if there'd be a police officer standing there saying, 'And what are you doing in the deceased's automobile?'"
I shivered, picturing someone lurking in the dark coldness of the old graveyard, someone watching and waiting to see what we made of our discovery. I'm no good at detecting the presence of living people. But the awful image faded after a moment. That didn't hang together.
"No, no one was there," I said. "Because someone did bring the rocks—thought it was of use to try to cover up the murder. So it stands to reason that the killer didn't know we'd found the body in the meantime, that we could testify that there wasn't anything in the grave but the corpse when we saw it."
Tolliver thought that over, nodded. It made sense. "Assuming we tell anyone. Assuming people believe us," he muttered.
"Yes, always assuming that." I stood and stretched. Because of my bad leg, I couldn't stand as smoothly as the FBI agent, who was way older. I tried not to resent that. I moved carefully, loosening the muscles. "And we just missed the campus cop patrol. We thought it was so deserted out there! They should put in a traffic light." There was a lot more thinking to do about what Seth Koenig had told us, but we had a social engagement I was dreading. "I'm going to get ready for the lunch. I guess we have to go."
Tolliver blew out a deep breath. He was as reluctant as I was, and he had the added complication of Felicia Hart's probable presence. "I think the Morgensterns feel guilty because we can't leave Memphis," he said. "They feel kind of like they're our host and hostess."
"But their daughter is dead, and they should be free to think about that, concentrate on that."
"Harper, maybe they don't want to. Maybe we're a welcome distraction."
I shrugged. "Then at least we're serving some useful purpose." But I couldn't even feel good about that. "I think this is a bad idea."
"I'm not exactly looking forward to it myself. But we have to do it."
I held up my hand, because his tone was definitely on the testy side. "I get that. And I'll stop sulking in a minute. Okay, you shower. I'll get dressed." I glanced at my watch. "We've got an hour and a half. Do we have directions?"
"Yeah, I got them over the phone from Joel. I'm sure Felicia is going to be there." He gave me a stern look. "Do I have to ask you to be nice?"
"Of course I will be." I gave him just enough of a smile to make him anxious. We didn't talk much during the long drive across the city. I drove, Tolliver navigated.
The Memphis home of the Morgenstern family was not unlike their Nashville home, though it was located in a somewhat more modest neighborhood. Diane and Joel liked upscale suburbs, not old city neighborhoods. They liked the kind of place where the trees are only partially grown and the lawns were rolled out in strips, where people jog in the early morning and the late evening and there are always service trucks circling the houses like remoras seeking sustenance from sharks.
The Morgenstern house was pale brick with dark red shutters and doors, a yard that would be beautiful in the spring, and a curving doublewide driveway that already contained a few shining cars, including a pearly Lexus, a dark red Buick, a green Navigator, and a candy-apple red Mustang. We parked and got out. I don't know about Tolliver, but I felt I was on alien ground. There were Thanksgiving decorations out at some of the homes, and Diane had put a couple of hay bales in the front yard, topping them with pumpkins and squash and cornstalks and other fall paraphernalia.
Maybe, when we have a house, I'll do the same thing, I thought, and knew right away that was total bullshit. I'd just been trying to tell myself I could live in as nice a place as the Morgensterns and not feel strange and out of place.
Tolliver smiled at me over the top of the car. "You ready?" he asked. "You look great today, you know."
I was wearing a rust-colored long-sleeved sweater over dark brown corduroys and leather high-heeled boots. I had a dark brown suede jacket on. At the last minute, I'd thought about jewelry and added a plain gold chain. I seldom wear jewelry, but this had seemed a good time to add a little gleam. Tolliver had stretched himself to wear a button-up shirt and khakis. I wondered if he had dressed for Felicia Hart's benefit. He said he didn't want her attentions, didn't understand her… but I wondered.
I went up the sidewalk, picking up my feet with an effort. I felt more like dragging them. As I rang the doorbell, I noticed a sort of decorated plaque hanging by the right side of the door, brass and turquoise and shiny stones combined in a really interesting way, with etched symbols of doves and Stars of David. I thought it looked as though it was a door, and the depth of the case indicated there might be something inside. I raised my eyebrows at Tolliver, who shrugged. He didn't know what it was, either.