Page 29 of Go Alone

Kate blinked. “A land covenant?”

“Just so. Now you may be aware that land covenants have a rather unfortunate past.”

“By which you mean an extremely racist past,” Kate said drily.

“Yes. They were used as tools to push people of color out of certain neighborhoods and skirt around discrimination laws by allowing de facto segregation.”

“Love the history lesson, but let’s focus on the case,” Kate suggested.

“Yes, of course. Well, this particular land covenant came about in the year 1907, which would have made it one of the first examples of such a document in the United States. It’s worth noting that this is not precisely a homeowner’s association or formalized legally binding document, such as the Arroyo Seco Improvement Association in Pasadena, California, formed two years prior by Henry Huntington—”

“Gabe.”

“Right. Sorry. My point is that this is exactly what I said it is. A covenant. A sort of formalized gentleman’s agreement rather than an institution.”

“Okay. What sort of covenant?”

“One that aimed to address predatory real estate practices. I can’t understand why this was nearly lost to history. There’s even a well-written clause prohibiting discrimination or, I suppose more correctly, disavowing, given the exact nature of this document, based on race, religious creed, or gender. That's utterly unheard of for the turn of the century."

Kare resigned herself to listening to Gabe rant before he got to the point. Gabe was an academic at heart, and he could never divorce himself from his need to share every interesting facet of every piece of information he obtained. She listened closely, waiting for the information she needed to progress with her case.

"The quotes your killer has lifted come from a chapter of the document entitled, 'Rules for the Fair and Equitable Transfer of Property between Consenting Parties.' It consists of several different tenets that have since been codified into law, though as our victims' pasts prove, laws are still all too easily circumvented."

“Send me a copy of that document,” Kate said. “Thank you so much for your help.”

“Of course. I understand you need this as evidence for your case, but when this case is closed, do you believe I could pass this along to a friend of mine? Dr. Sandra O’Leary of the History Department is an absolute sucker for these tidbits of American community history.”

So that was the mysterious Sandy. A colleague. One who enjoyed pot brownies shared with the gregarious chair of linguistics. Kate almost told him she would give him permission if he introduced her to Sandy first, but this was a work call, not a social call. She could pry into Gabe’s personal life later. “Sure. I’ll call you when we’re done keeping it secret.”

“You are a treasure and a wonder, Kate. I’ll scan the document right now and send it to you. Good luck!”

While Kate waited for Gabe to forward the file, she looked into one aspect of the Garfield case they hadn’t touched on yet. She called Oliver Holt, getting his number from the Columbus PD case file.

He answered on the third ring. He didn’t sound happy. “This is a bad time, agent. I’m with my kids right now.”

“And I’m trying to figure out who killed their mother,” Kate replied. Which was a brutal way to say it but also accurate.

“Who are you? You’re not Agent Reid.”

“I’m his partner, Special Agent Kate Valentine.” People always forgot that word. “And I need to ask you a question pertaining to the case.”

Oliver sighed. “Hold on.”

Sounds of a television playing a sports game played in the background. An adult voice asked Oliver where he was going, and Kate remembered that Deborah's kids were grown, which made her wonder why Oliver was having a difficult time sharing with her. Did he not want his wife’s killer found for some reason?

A moment later, Oliver said, “All right. I’m here. What can I do for you, special agent?”

“I need to know if the Garfields sought advocacy when your ex-wife pushed to foreclose their home.”

“Of course they did. They tried to sue the bank.”

"What I'm specifically referring to is a non-profit homeowners' advocacy group rather than a law office. This would be similar to a small-scale, local version of the ACLU but focusing on matters of property ownership rather than race."

“Right. Yeah, I get it. We call them Probos.”

Kate frowned. “Probos?”

“Pro bono organizations. They have a… Well, legitimate legal firms tend to make fun of them.”