Jin couldn’t wait. ‘‘You fix the cells on special
coated slides and the PCR is done on the slide itself,
using special equipment. You see, no need to extract
the DNA. That’s where you lose some of it.’’ ‘‘The in situ method has been done on tissue sam
ples for other applications,’’ said Diane. ‘‘It’s experi
mental. They’re still working on the protocol for
forensic use.’’
Garnett’s phone rang. He plucked it from his belt
and looked at a message on the screen and put it back
in his pocket. He gave Diane a long stare. ‘‘I assume
it’s not cheap.’’ Garnett glanced over at the sheriff,
an apparent DNA analysis-phile, and saw that his in
terest was piqued.
‘‘No,’’ said Diane. ‘‘It probably won’t be cheap, even
if we can get it done. As I said, it’s experimental.’’ Garnett seemed to look inward a moment, then his
gaze rested on Jin’s tee-shirt. Jin had numerous foren
sic sloganed tee-shirts—for M.E.s, criminalists—all
with varying degrees of humor, gore, and double en
tendre. Today he had worn one that caught Garnett’s
eye—M.E.S ARE ON THE CUTTING EDGE. Diane could see
him make up his mind.
‘‘Why don’t we give it a try? We can carry the bulk
of the cost for your county, Sheriff.’’
‘‘I’d like to do that, I sure would,’’ said the sheriff. Garnett rose. ‘‘I just got a message saying they found
Steven Mayberry’s truck on a back road. It’s empty. No
sign of foul play, but you’ll have to look at it.’’ Diane nodded and turned to Neva. ‘‘I want you to
process it, Neva.’’
Neva stared back at Diane and started to speak, but
Garnett spoke first.
‘‘This is real important.’’
Diane held his gaze, but she could see in her periph
eral vision that his words had stung Neva.
‘‘Yes,’’ Diane said. ‘‘I know it is.’’
Chapter 13
Diane watched Chief Garnett pause before he left, looking as if he wanted to say more about her choos ing Neva for this assignment. She guessed he was stuck. Garnett was the one who had given Neva to Diane’s crime scene unit. He could not very well say now that he doubted Neva’s abilities. She was wet behind the ears and had a little trouble with rotting bodies, but Diane had examined her qualifications. Neva’s file showed a good training record in evi dence analysis.
Neva collected her equipment and rushed to catch up with Garnett, casting a glance back that looked like a combination of determination and fear. Jin went whistling into his office to call crime scene researchers in California. The sheriff lifted his lanky frame from his chair, looking suddenly abandoned.
‘‘Let David tell you more about his insects,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I want you to understand how we fix the time of death. We can’t go solely by rate of decomposition. Insects can’t eat what they can’t get to. If they aren’t eating, decomposition is slowed. Wind and dry weather can stop decomposition altogether and start a mummification process. The Cobber’s Wood bodies showed a combination of light insect infestation and slight mummification. Our best clue may be the life cycle of the fly larva—telling us how long they have infested the body.’’
He was silent a moment, holding his hat in one hand and studying the floor as they walked to the maggot room, as David liked to call the small cubicle.
‘‘The inside of this building is not the same thing as outdoors,’’ said the sheriff, looking at David’s maggots.
‘‘My rearing chamber is similar to the climate at the crime scene,’’ said David.
As David explained about insect succession and life cycles, Diane could see that the sheriff hadn’t relaxed the rigid pose of his shoulders.
‘‘I guess time will tell,’’ he said. ‘‘I have to tell you, the sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better. I know our boy Garnett is’’—he gestured toward the door where Garnett left—‘‘just real excited about hav ing a high-profile case for you guys to work on. But it’s been a pain in the butt for me.’’ He shook his head. ‘‘Fortunately, Lynn Webber released informa tion identifying the victims as white. The last thing I needed was rumors of a lynching flying around and having people stirring up trouble.’’
‘‘I imagine it was the description of the bodies that bothered Reverend Jefferson,’’ said Diane. ‘‘He’s old enough to remember his parents and grandparents telling about spectacle lynching. Those images must have been
