to know if there’s any blood on it.” She dropped it in the bag. She put the hat in another one. “Look at the hat too. I may have cross- contaminated it, but at the time I didn’t have anything else to wrap the knife in.”
“And why didn’t you turn all this over to the sheriff or, rather, his representative?” asked Frank.
Frank’s face looked stern, but Diane knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t angry. Just concerned.
“In the absence of a warrant, I didn’t think it was right to hand over something that was loaned to me,” said Diane. “Sheriff Leland Conrad spends the least amount of money on criminal justice of any sheriff in Georgia. He runs for election on what he describes as his commonsense approach to crime. And he believes he is right. To him it will be common sense that it was a stranger in the woods in possession of a knife who said he was taking photographs during a thunderstorm who is the killer, rather than any resident of his county. If the man is guilty, that would be fine. If he’s not, the killer gets away and the stranger is stuck in prison.”
“You don’t think Sheriff Conrad will call in the GBI on this?” asked Frank. “This is pretty big.”
“Nothing’s too big for Leland,” commented David.
“His son, Deputy Travis Conrad, is going to try to talk him into it. He said the coroner will back him up,” said Diane. “Maybe they will persuade him. But between now and then, I’m going to process what we have.”
She and Frank stared at each other for a moment. She knew he disapproved. Frank could be a stickler for protocol. Izzy Wallace looked uneasy too.
“It’s not evidence until it’s evidence,” she said. “Right now, it’s just a knife and rain gear that some Good Samaritan loaned me to help me out of a tight spot.”
“You don’t think you’re sort of protecting the guy because he helped you, do you?” said Izzy. “That would be understandable,” he added.
Diane knew Frank was thinking the same thing. “No, I think I’m a former human rights investigator who has a very healthy, well-developed sense of justice and the presumption of innocence.”
David gave her a ghost of a smile. She knew he was with her on this one.
“Besides, Deputy Conrad could have asked me for the poncho if he thought its owner had anything to do with the crime. He didn’t,” she said. “Think of Star,” she added.
Star was Frank’s adopted daughter. She was unjustly accused of killing her parents, and many of her rights were trampled on in the process. She could have spent the rest of her life in prison, had it not been for Frank and Diane.
“In the meantime,” she said, “I told Deputy Conrad about the stranger and that he said he was camping in the national forest. I’m sure Travis will look for him.”
“Okay,” said Frank. “I was just interested in your line of reasoning.”
Diane took out her cell phone and handed it to David. “There are some pictures of the crime scene on here I’d like you to do the best you can with,” she said.
“Diane,” said Frank. “You can’t just take over the investigation.”
“I’m not. I’m preserving the scene as it was when I found it,” she said.
“You really don’t trust Leland Conrad, do you?” Frank said.
“Do you?” she shot back.
“No, I don’t. But he is the elected sheriff of Rendell County,” Frank said.
“I’ll share any information I discover,” Diane said.
“Leland will be really pissed,” said Izzy. “I don’t care for him either, but Frank’s right. Taking photographs of his crime scene . . . I don’t know.”
“Leland Conrad is a Luddite who treats the people who elected him like he owns them and knows what’s best for them. Diane may not have followed protocol on this, but she is right, nevertheless.”
Both Frank and Izzy looked at David for a moment. She knew they were torn. They didn’t think Diane should have kept anything from the sheriff, but they