Page 37 of Gem Warfare

“No, that’s not it,” said Dad, still trying to reach the photo as Mom moved it out the way, studying it intently.

“What was the name then?” asked Mom.

“I don’t remember,” said Dad “but it wasn’t Brown.”

“Anyway, then the Singhs moved in during your senior year, Lexi, and they were there for years. Or was it your junior year? Rav and Charvi. Two girls almost grown.”

“I remember them,” said Garrett.

“I don’t,” I said.

“You were in your wild era,” said Mom. “And the girls were all star track athletes.”

“That explains why I don’t remember them,” I said, deciding not to add because I was an all star underage drinking and party champion who used to make fun of the athletes.

“They went to the girls’ school,” said Mom. “Such pretty girls. Clever too. Someone once tied their car handles with shoelaces and dangled their sneakers from the aerial.”

“Now I remember them!” I brightened.

Mom narrowed her eyes. “I always suspected it was you.”

I feigned shock. “I would never!”

“Hmm,” snorted Mom, apparently unconvinced.

“Why did they move?” I asked, hoping to prod the subject along.

“Rav Singh got cancer a few years ago. He died within months, such an awful shame, and Charvi didn’t want to live there anymore. The girls had settled elsewhere and I think she left to be closer to them and the grandchildren.”

“That’s sad.”

“It is, but the silver lining is the house doubled in value since they bought it. Oh, you know what? I think I got the order wrong. Joe rented first, then it was the Langs. Joe Smithson.”

“Joe Smithson?” asked Garrett.

“That’s right. Yes, I’m sure this is him. Why? Where did you get this photo anyway?”

“From the corpse’s pocket.”

Mom screamed and dropped the photo. “Why would youhand it to me?!” she asked. She scraped her chair backwards and hurried to the sink, adding a double pump of hand soap, then plunging her hands under the faucet.

“It’s wrapped in plastic,” protested Garrett.

“Is that who the Dugans found? Was it Joe Smithson buried in the yard?” asked Dad.

“Hard to say,” said Garrett. “The driver’s license photo is the same man as this photo, but the name you suggested is different. I’m thinking it’s an alias.”

“Why would Joe need an alias?” asked Mom.

“A very good question,” said Garrett.

Chapter Nine

Mom seemed to have forgotten all about her sandwich until Garrett’s hand crept across her plate. “Hands off, you bottomless pit,” she said, giving his hand a smack.

“Ow!” Garrett withdrew his hand and rubbed it.

“Don’t even look at mine,” I said, starting on my sandwich’s second half. “You’re the one who freaked out Mom.”

---