CHAPTER 19
They were even labeled. Hymnal House. Brio Barn. Nissan. I didn’t know what finding them here meant, but I knew it meant something. Marla and I scoured the rest of the construction site, but came up with nothing else: no sign of pearls, or letters, or sacramental vessels. No sign of Tom Schulz.
We walked back to my house as quickly as my throbbing back would allow. I held the keys tightly in the pocket of my jacket the whole way. Habitat. Bob Preston. The Bob-projects. I couldn’t wait to tell Boyd, who still was due to report back to me about Mitchell Hartley. I called and left a breathless message with the Investigations secretary. Within minutes, Boyd called me back.
“We called Hartley and asked to meet him at his apartment. He wasn’t too pleased to have to meet with us. An
