“This man. Mary Beth told me that she was, like, doing this project for school there, by the river, and Billy stopped to talk to her. And then this man came up. He’d been following Billy and they started arguing and fighting and this guy grabbed the shovel and killed him. Then I came by and he ran off.”

“You saw him?”

“Yessir.”

“What were they arguing about?” Bell asked skeptically.

“Drugs or something, Mary Beth said. Sounded like Billy was selling drugs to the kids on the football team. Like, those steroid things?”

“Jeeez,” said Jesse Corn, giving a sour laugh.

“Garrett,” Bell said. “Billy wasn’t into drugs. I knew him. And we never had any reports about steroids at the high school.”

“I understand that Billy Stail ragged on you a lot,” Jesse said. “Billy and a couple other boys on the team.”

Sachs thought this wasn’t right—two big deputies double-teaming him.

“That they made fun of you. Called you Bug Boy. You took a swing at Billy once and he and his friends beat you up bad.”

“I don’t remember.”

“Principal Gilmore told us,” Bell said. “They had to call security.”

“Maybe. But I didn’t kill him.”

“Ed Schaeffer died, you know. He got stung to death by those wasps in the blind.”

“I’m sorry that happened. That wasn’t my fault. I didn’t put the nest there.”

“It wasn’t a trap?”

“No, it was just there, in the hunting blind. I went there all the time—even slept there—and they didn’t bother me. Yellow jackets only sting when they’re afraid you’re going to hurt their family.”

“Well, tell us about this man you say killed Billy,” the sheriff said. “You ever see him around here before?”

“Yessir. Two or three times the last couple years. Walking through the woods around Blackwater Landing. Then once I saw him near the school.”

“White, black?”

“White. And he was tall. Maybe about as old as Mr. Babbage—” “His forties?”

“Yeah, I guess. He had blond hair. And he was wearing overalls. Tan ones. And a white shirt.”

“But it was just your and Billy’s fingerprints on the shovel,” Bell pointed out. “Nobody else’s.”

Garrett said, “Like, I think he was wearing gloves.”

“Why’d he be wearing gloves this time of year?” Jesse said.

“Probably so he wouldn’t leave fingerprints,” Garrett shot back.

Sachs thought back to the friction-ridge prints on the shovel. She and Rhyme hadn’t done the printing themselves. Sometimes it’s possible to image grain prints from leather gloves. Cotton or wool glove prints were much less detectable although fabric fibers could slough off and get caught in the tiny splinters in a wooden surface like a tool handle.

“Well, what you say could’ve happened, Garrett,” Bell said. “But it just doesn’t seem like the truth to anybody.”