“I don’t see any trace that’s consistent with firearms. We’ve got the nitrates but if that was from ammunition we’d’ve found burnt powder grains, cleaning solvent, grease, cordite, fulminate of mercury. There’s none of that.”

“Which just means he hasn’t fired a weapon in a while,” she said.

“True.”

She hung up.

Looking around cautiously now, skittish, they walked for several miles more, surrounded by the turpentiney scent of the air. Lulled by the heat, the buzzing of insects, they were still on the path that Garrett and Lydia had started along, though their footsteps were no longer visible. Sachs wondered if they’d missed—

“Stop!” Lucy Kerr cried. She dropped to her knees. Ned and Jesse froze. Sachs drew her pistol in a fraction of a second. Then she noticed what Lucy was referring to—the silvery glimmer of a wire across the path.

“Man,” Ned said, “how’d you see that? It’s full-up invisible.”

Lucy didn’t respond. She crawled to the side of the path, following the wire. Gently pulled aside bushes. Hot, crisp leaves rustled as she lifted them out one by one.

“Want me to get the bomb squad over here from Elizabeth City?” Jesse asked.

“Shhhh,” Lucy ordered.

The deputy’s careful hands moved aside the leaves a millimeter at a time.

Sachs was holding her breath. In a recent case she’d been the victim of an antipersonnel bomb. She hadn’t been badly injured but she remembered that in a portion of a second the astonishing noise, the heat, the pressure wave and debris had enveloped her completely. She didn’t want that to happen again. She knew too that many homemade pipe bombs were filled with BBs or ball bearings—sometimes dimes or pennies—as deadly shrapnel. Would Garrett do this too? She remembered his picture: his dim, sunken eyes. She remembered the jars of insects. Remembered the death of that woman in Blackwater Landing—stung to death. Remembered Ed Schaeffer in a wasp-venom coma. Yes, she decided, Garrett would definitely rig the most vicious trap he could think of.

She cringed as Lucy eased the last leaf off the pile.

The deputy sighed, sat back on her haunches. “It’s a spider,” she muttered.

Sachs saw it too. It wasn’t fishing line at all, just a long string of web.

They rose to their feet.

“Spider,” Ned said, laughing. Jesse chuckled too.

But their voices were humorless and, Sachs noticed, as they started down the path once more each one of them carefully lifted their feet well over the glistening strand.

Lincoln Rhyme, head back, eyes squinting at the chalkboard.

FOUND AT SECONDARY CRIME SCENE— GARRETT’S ROOM

Skunk Musk
Cut Pine Needles
Drawings of Insects
Pictures of Mary Beth and Family
Insect Books
Fishing Line
Money
Unknown Key
Kerosene
Ammonia
Nitrates
Camphene

He sighed angrily. Felt completely helpless. The evidence was inexplicable to him.

His eyes focused on: Insect Books.

Then glanced at Ben. “So. You’re a student, are you?”