Garrett walked toward the front door of the cabin, pulling Mary Beth after him. “Into the house! We have to get in. They’re after us. We can’t let them see us. We’ll hide in the cellar. Look what they did to the locks! They broke my door!”

“No, Garrett!” Mary Beth said in a rasping voice. “I’m not going back in there.”

But he said nothing and pulled her into the cabin. The silent redhead walked unsteadily inside. Garrett shoved the door closed, looking at the shattered wood, the broken locks, dismay on his face. “No!” he cried, seeing shards of glass on the floor—from the jar that had held the dinosaur beetle.

Mary Beth, appalled that the boy seemed the most upset that one of his bugs had escaped, strode up to Garrett and slapped him hard on the face. He blinked in surprise and staggered backward. “You prick!” she screamed. “They could’ve killed me.”

The boy was flustered. “I’m sorry!” His voice cracked. “I didn’t know about them. I thought there was nobody around here. I didn’t mean to leave you this long. I got arrested.”

He shoved splinters under the door to wedge it shut.

“Arrested?” Mary Beth asked. “Then what’re you doing here?”

Finally the redhead spoke. In a mumbling voice she said, “I got him out of jail. So we could find you and bring you back. And you could back up his story about the man in the overalls.”

“What man?” Mary Beth asked, confused.

“At Blackwater Landing. The man in the tan overalls, the one who killed Billy Stail.”

“But…” She shook her head. “Garrett killed Billy. He hit him with a shovel. I saw him. It happened right in front of me. Then he kidnapped me.”

Mary Beth had never seen such an expression on another human being. Complete shock and dismay. The redhead started to turn toward Garrett but then something caught her eye: the rows of Farmer John canned fruits and vegetables. She walked slowly toward the table, as if she were sleepwalking, and picked one up. Stared at the picture on the label—a cheerful blond farmer wearing tan overalls and a white shirt.

“You made it up?” she whispered to Garrett, holding the can up. “There was no man. You lied to me.”

Garrett stepped forward, fast as a grasshopper, and pulled a pair of handcuffs off the redhead’s belt. He ratcheted them onto her wrists.

“I’m sorry, Amelia,” he said. “But if I’d told you the truth you never would’ve got me out. It was the only way. I had to get back here. I had to get back to Mary Beth.”

… chapter thirty-six

FOUND AT THE SECONDARY CRIME SCENE—MILL

Brown Paint on Pants
Sundew Plant
Clay
Peat Moss
Fruit Juice
Paper Fibers
Stinkball Bait
Sugar
Camphene
Alcohol
Kerosene
Yeast

Obsessively Lincoln Rhyme’s eyes scanned the evidence chart. Top to bottom, bottom to top.

Then again.