Dead Past

landlord? Who was renting the basement?”
    “No one was renting the basement, according to the landlord,” said Garnett. “I’ve got some men sitting on him. I can’t believe someone could have a lab in his house and not know about it. We’ve pushed him pretty far, but so far he’s not budging.”
    “How about residents? One of them could have allowed someone in the basement,” said Diane.
    “Most of them were killed in the explosion. There’s a kid who does have an apartment in the house. He went on vacation to Europe with his parents just before this happened. We’re hoping when he returns he’ll have some answers to your questions. I’ve got your drawing out there, no hits. I’ve sent it to the old members of the drug unit. I’m waiting to hear. Now, what do you have on the Stanton kid?”
    Diane told him about the museum thefts, his relationship with Darcy, the possibility that they were on a date and neither had any idea that there was a meth lab in the basement.
    “I’ll be damned. That puts a new face on it. Why did he try to jack your car?”
    Diane shrugged. “He was hurt and dazed after the explosion. He panicked. Maybe he really didn’t know what he was doing. He probably carried a gun as a macho thing. I don’t know and probably never will. But we have found no trace connection with him and McNair. Have you found any links?”
    “No,” Garnett confessed. “None whatsoever. They were both shot with Berettas, but not the same one. The two murders are so similar, but at the same time there are some important differences. This museum theft makes me think the similarities are simply coincidences.”
    “Look, Garnett, don’t lock me out of this. I need to know what you know. We can help and I’m very motivated.”
    “I’m telling you all I know. This find in the warehouse here puts you back in the game. Right now I need to get back to the media. I’m hoping for some press that’ll stop Adler in his tracks. He’s hurt a lot of good men.”
    “Would you get one of the patrolmen to give me a ride back to the lab? I’d like to start working on these bones.”
    “Sure,” said Garnett. “Izzy’s here; I’ll get him to take you.”
    “He’s working? I thought he’d be off mourning his son.”
    “He’s due time off, but he wants to find out who did this, and I’m letting him help. I think he needs to be involved.”
    “Poor guy,” said Diane. They emerged from the van and Garnett went to get Izzy. Diane got the box of bones and, hoping to look inconspicuous, stood behind the van. She looked up on the ridge and saw a beam of light extending from the ground upward like a small spotlight. She watched it for several moments. It didn’t move. Jin! she thought.

Chapter 35

    Diane opened the van, shoved the box of bones in, and raced up the hill. She slipped on the snow and scraped her knees through her pants.
    “Damn!” she exclaimed, picking herself up and hurrying up the embankment.
    At the top of the ridge she saw the flashlight leaning against a rock. She searched the ground quickly with the beam of her flashlight. Just as her light played on a hiking boot at the bottom of an embankment on the other side of the ridge, she heard a groan.
    “Jin!” she shouted.
    She ran down the embankment, half sliding on the rocks and snow, fortunately not falling.
    She knelt beside him as he struggled to his knees. “Jin, what happened?” she asked. “Did you fall?”
    “Fall?” He said confused. “No. I don’t think so.” He sat up. “Damn, my head hurts. He rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “Ouch!” He brought his hand back around. “It’s wet,” he said.
    “Let me look.” She aimed her flashlight at the back of his head and parted his hair. “You have a cut and it looks like you’re going to have a sizable bump. You’re sure you didn’t fall? What’s the last thing you remember?”
    Jin tried to stand up.
    “Just sit there for a moment, and tell me what you remember.”
    “I was kneeling down, digging at something I found,” said Jin.
    “More evidence?”
    Jin shook his head. “An arrowhead.”
    “An arrowhead?”
    “Yeah, milky quartz, looked like, from what Jonas called the Old Quartz Culture, about eight thousand years ago. There’s a zillion of those kinds of points in Georgia. Don’t you visit your own museum?”
    “Yes, I know what the Old Quartz Culture is. That’s the last thing you remember—digging out the