Lieutenant Morse took a quick sip. “He’s been here just over a year, but he completely upended the test and training schedules. He moved some of the bombing targets as well. Just to assert himself.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

He looked at her, his eyes suddenly narrowing. “Why the interest?”

Looking at him, Corrie realized she had pushed too hard.

Quickly, she made a decision. Good or bad, it was a decision. She reached into her jacket pocket, took out her FBI shield with her photo ID, and laid it on the table. He stared at it for a long moment, then looked up at her.

“Is this for real?”

“Special Agent Corinne Swanson.”

He looked at her with complete astonishment, and then flushed, trying to cover up his surprise. “Excuse me—I’m just floored. You don’t … ” He stopped.

“I don’t look like an FBI agent? Don’t worry, I hear it all the time.” As she spoke, she thought about how she might use this to her advantage. “In fact, this is one of my very first cases,” she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “If you could help me out, I’d be really grateful.”

He took a deep breath. “What’s this about?”

“Can I ask you if you’re willing to keep our conversation strictly confidential?”

“Not until I know where the conversation’s going.”

Okay, time for a different approach. Corrie put on her best crisp, official-sounding voice. She’d been practicing her presentation and interrogation skills, but it was hard to get the right balance between serious and bitchy. “We’re investigating a death connected with WSMR. I wish I could say more. Let me just assure you that General McGurk is not suspected of any wrongdoing, nor is anyone at WSMR. I’m just trying to fill in some information about the general. If you’d be willing to answer a few questions, strictly in confidence, that would be really helpful to me—to us.”

He thought for a moment. “Let me see if I can explain something first, just so you won’t take what I’m about to say in the wrong way. As you guessed, there’s some friction between my unit and the army—McGurk treats us like we’re squatters. The air force contingent at Holloman isn’t too happy with him, either. He’s trod on his share of toes. And Woodbridge—that lieutenant he picked as his personal attack dog—she’s a stone-cold operator, smart and ambitious and about as friendly as a rattlesnake. Put all that together, and you can imagine a lot of trash-talking about McGurk goes on—true or not, sometimes it’s hard to say.”

“Thanks for explaining the situation. So what do you know about McGurk’s father?”

Lieutenant Morse glanced around and leaned toward her. “I don’t know anything, really. Just rumors that I probably shouldn’t be repeating.”

“You can speak freely. This is all off the record, for my own information only. I won’t even take notes.”

The lieutenant looked a little relieved. “Some of the rumors are a bit absurd.”

“Those are the ones I’d like to hear.”

Morse hesitated again. “Where are you based? Albuquerque?”

“Yes.”

“You been in this area long?”

“No, not really.”

“Well … have you heard about the legend of Victorio’s gold—the Spanish treasure hidden in the peak?”

Corrie felt a charge of electricity jolt her spine. “A little.”

“When Lyndon Johnson was president—so the story goes—he somehow heard about the Victorio Peak treasure. He and the secretary of the army teamed up with the governor of Texas, and they organized a secret project at WSMR to investigate the peak with the latest technology and find the treasure—if it was there. They put together a select group of military officers at WSMR and Holloman to work on the project. That rumor, by the way, has been around for decades—never proved or disproved.”

“And McGurk’s father? Was he one of them?”

“So the rumors go.”

“And … did they find anything?”

“Some people claim they did, but most say nada. They probed the peak, sounded it and drilled it, set off explosives. Total bust. And the reason they found nothing is that nothing’s there.” He finished his drink. “There is no treasure. The whole legend is bogus.”

“And General McGurk?”

He shrugged. “They say he wangled the appointment at WSMR so that he could find the treasure his father couldn’t. Which is why he’s been altering bombing runs and such. According to the grapevine, he’s using bombing runs as a cover for a treasure hunt. You see, when the EOD teams locate dud ordnance from those bombing runs, they go out and detonate it in place. The rumor is that they’re screwing with some of the ordnance to create duds, then using that as cover for seismic blasting to locate the underground cavern supposedly holding the gold.”

“Jesus,” Corrie murmured. Suddenly McGurk’s father having been posted to the base didn’t seem so coincidental after all.

“Exactly. I told you the stories were absurd. And that’s all I know—or all I’ll admit to knowing, even to an FBI agent.” He tapped her beer glass. “Now—would you like another? I’ve just got time for one more before I have to hit the road.”