Scattered Graves

bright
to me. On the other hand, I don’t want the state or the
feds to get the idea that Garnett might be involved.
Sometimes it’s better to deal with the devil you know.’’ ‘‘What do you want me to do?’’ asked Diane. ‘‘Find out who killed the mayor,’’ said Izzy. ‘‘You don’t want much. I don’t have any standing
in this. I wouldn’t be allowed to investigate,’’ she said. ‘‘Like I said, we got that worked out. There’s a
private investigator in Atlanta who’s going to let you
work under his license. Prehoda’s setting it up. You
just have to let him hire you, temporary like,’’ said
Izzy. ‘‘It was my idea,’’ he added, grinning. Shit , thought Diane. She liked the idea.

Chapter 17
    The house that Spence Jefferies lived and died in was one of the larger homes in Rosewood. It had a bright gray stone exterior, arched windows, several chimneys, and dark gray multiple roof peaks embellished with small tapering towers. It had a circular drive with a locked gate at the entrance, which was why Diane was standing on the street in the cold waiting for Colin Prehoda to come let her in.
    Douglas Garnett had hired Colin as his attorney. Colin had set it up so that technically Diane and the detective agency she was temporarily attached to worked for him. That way, most of her discoveries would be the work product for his client. This gave her access to the evidence and got her past those who did not want her involved.
    Most of the police she had dealt with on this case were forthcoming, anxious to help. They supported Garnett. But there were those who were against him. Very few people were undecided. A few were hostile to the point that when they met her in the hallways they brushed close to her, hitting her shoulder with theirs as they passed. Diane supposed that was meant to intimidate, but she didn’t find it particularly intim idating. For her it delineated whose side they were on. It was like wearing a uniform, showing your colors, flying a flag. It had been an interesting couple of days.
    As she waited outside the gate she studied a floor plan of the house. It was a little over five thousand square feet. The trouble with large houses is there are too many doors leading to the outside. She doubted that all the doors were even listed on the floor plan she had. It was a drawing given to her by Colin, and not the registered blueprints for the house. The draw ing didn’t show the basement. She was willing to bet there were several more outside doors to the base ment.
    Then there were the windows—big houses have lots of windows. Of course, big houses have alarm systems. The mayor’s hadn’t gone off the night he was killed— leading everyone to believe that he knew who killed him, had let the murderer in.
    Colin said there was an approach from the rear of the estate, a sort of service entrance that featured a gate, which was usually locked. Colin said the mayor preferred coming in that way because it was hidden from the front and no one could tell when he came and went. Another way for a killer to come and go unnoticed , she thought. The mayor didn’t have cam eras at that service entrance.
    Diane had seen the autopsy reports. Colin had con vinced the judge that it was in everyone’s best interest to move things along quickly. But getting information about the crime was like pulling teeth. Shane Eastling, the new medical examiner, was slow to comply with the judge’s order to give all the information to Colin. Eastling had delayed, saying the reports weren’t ready, that his copier was broken, that he had to be out of his lab for a while, that his secretary was out sick. Diane camped outside his office with a portable copier and he finally complied. It didn’t surprise her that his unfriendliness bordered on hostility, but it was unusual— Diane normally got along well with medical exam iners.
    It did come to her attention that Shane Eastling was a friend of Jennifer Jeffcote-Smith and had recom mended her to Bryce. Perhaps Eastling thought Diane should have given up her lab and her position as fo rensic anthropologist to Jennifer. A rather unreason able view to take, she thought.
    The autopsies showed part of what Diane already knew—the mayor had died from a gunshot to the back of the head. According to the reports, the mayor had a contact wound and no defensive marks.
    Bryce’s report was interesting in what it left out— blood evidence. They had collected no