Crops and Robbers by Paige Shelton Page B

nodded at an area that seemed to have a sort of indent in it.
    Mom had said she’d awakened on the side of the barn that faced the highway. It wasn’t groomed, but there was a somewhat clear path. If I’d been paying attention when I pulled into the driveway yesterday, I might have seen her.
    But the area directly behind the barn didn’t get much attention. There was a small plot of land that was surrounded by a chicken-wire fence that had been there forever as far as I knew. No one could see behind the barn from any spot on my property or even from the state highway. It was somehow hidden from the world, so I’d never taken the time to groom it or yank out the mass of weeds and bush.
    “Maybe,” I said. “It’s a good place to hide.”
    Sam nodded absently. He scanned the area, looking at each inch of the brush. I waited quietly.
    “Gus didn’t think the indent had any significance, but he said he took pictures.”
    “Who is Gus?” I asked.
    “He’s my very own CSI. Well, sort of. He’s a scientist who I hired part-time to help with crime scenes. I set up a small office for him in the building next to the county building. He used to help out with murder investigations in Charleston, so he’s had some training and knows how to take crime scene photos and process fingerprints. He’s sharp.”
    “How closely did you look back here yesterday?” I asked. Gus might have been okay at his job, but I trusted Sam’s keen eye over anyone’s.
    “Not well enough. If I had, I would have seen this.” Sam pointed to something that looked like a bunch of twigs and leaves.
    “What is it?”
    “Becca, do you have some tweezers and a plastic bag, or some other sort of bag?”
    “Yep. Right away.” I turned and made my way out of the unruly area. I was hurrying so much I scratched my exposed legs, but I ignored the sting.
    “You don’t have to run,” Sam said from behind the barn. “It’s not going anywhere until I take it.”
    “Now he tells me,” I said quietly. I followed up with, “Be right back.”
    I continued to hurry even though a couple of the scratches had started oozing blood. The scratches and blood didn’t bother me as much as the thought that there was a good chance some wayward poison ivy was mixed in among the twigs, leaves, and general overgrowth behind the barn. I hoped not. I was normally pretty good about inspecting for such things, but I hadn’t been today.
    I grabbed some tweezers from the bathroom, and some tongs and plastic zip-top bags from the kitchen. I had some cleaning gloves, so I pulled those out from under the sink, too, but I didn’t think Sam would want to use them.
    I made my way back into the jungle, this time looking around for poison plants. I was relieved not to see any.
    “Good,” Sam said as he looked up. “Tongs will be perfect. Hand those to me, but don’t step on the area that has been smushed. Here, toss them to me if you have to.”
    I reached and tossed. He caught the tongs and reached into the pile of brush. Seconds later he pulled them out and held them up. I could barely see the item he’d grabbed, but as he turned it, the sunlight caused something to sparkle.
    “What is it, Sam?”
    “A piece of glass.” It was probably less than one inch square.
    “How did you see that?” I asked.
    “It’s my job. It’s Gus’s job, too. I can’t believe we didn’t catch it.”
    “Why in the world would that be something important? It could have been there for years, decades even.”
    “I don’t think so. It’s fairly clean.”
    “A piece of glass—from what?”
    “Not sure, but a fingerprint other than your mother’s or yours, I suppose, would sure be a good addition to the case right about now. Can you hand me one of the plastic bags?”
    Without drawing too much more blood on my legs, I got the bag to Sam. He immediately put the piece of glass into it and sealed it. He looked around more but didn’t find anything. I tried to focus on what he was