He turned and they all filed out of the room. Gar-nett glanced at her briefly, then turned and left with the others. The look in his eyes made her feel doubly uneasy.

  ‘‘What was that about my osteology lab and Gar-nett?’’ she asked Colin after the delegation had gone.

  ‘‘I don’t know. That was strange and unexpected. They couldn’t hope to get away with claiming the forensic anthropology lab.’’ Colin shook his head. Some of his black hair fell in his face and he brushed it away with his hand. ‘‘The only thing I can figure is they were trying to tell you they are going to make it hard for you to get them out of here.’’

  ‘‘Do you think they will make a lot of trouble?’’ asked Diane. ‘‘The mayor was very angry.’’

  ‘‘They will make trouble, but I don’t know how much. If they take us to court, we’ll have to present proof and defend our position against their claims, warranted or not.’’ Colin stood up and stretched. ‘‘The idea of moving the crime lab next to the police station is a good one. Maybe they’ll take the suggestion and this will be over soon. I expect they won’t drag it out. We’ll see. I wouldn’t worry too much about Jefferies attacking you personally. That would put him in a world of trouble. And as for Peeks’ threat, I wouldn’t worry. He’s just trying to scare you.’’

  ‘‘Not if they own the crime lab,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Which they do. I have to tell you, I’m worried. What I don’t know is why they just didn’t go ahead and arrest me. I know they will.’’

  Colin didn’t say anything for a moment. ‘‘They want you to reconsider moving the crime lab. It’s blackmail.’’

  ‘‘I can’t give in,’’ she said.

  ‘‘I know. It if comes to you being arrested, you have a lot of pull too. Vanessa and her family will have a fit. And you know Vanessa when she is pissed,’’ he said.

  Diane thought he was just trying to cheer her up, but she thought he was right about the blackmail part. Perhaps they saw that as leverage.

  Colin left and Diane sat in her office for a long while thinking. She hadn’t voted for Jefferies. She hadn’t liked the way he came out throwing mud from the beginning, and she was surprised he appealed to so many people. He had a shoot-first-and-ask-questionslater attitude about suspects that reminded her of third-world dictators. So far, the only official action he had taken that she agreed with was to approve new bulletproof vests for the police officers. She wondered how much of her relish in going after Bryce, Peeks, and Jefferies came from her desire for payback. She realized she was not above wanting it for the way the whole crime lab directorship was handled. The thought made her ashamed. She suddenly felt not so different from them.

  She went home early. It felt like a storm was coming.

  *** Diane spent the time until Frank got home playing the piano. It was calming,

  and she needed calm. The mayor and his friends had disturbed her core more than she realized at the time. She had gone head-tohead with the last mayor and it was no big deal. As a rule, authority didn’t scare her. These guys did. They seemed mean and she knew they were willing to lie. Lies are wicked weapons. After Frank got home they went to a movie and had a late dinner, and an even later evening. Diane awoke late the next morning. Frank was already dressed and drinking coffee when she got up and walked into the kitchen. ‘‘Ah, I knew the smell would get you in here.’’ He handed her a cup. ‘‘I’m going to be late to the museum,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Why didn’t you wake me?’’ ‘‘You were sleeping so

  soundly, I thought you needed it. Besides, I haven’t been up that long myself. I’m late too. I’m going to have to run by McDonald’s for breakfast.’’ He kissed her cheek. ‘‘I’ll see you tonight.’’ The telephone rang and Frank grabbed it. Diane rarely answered the phone when he was home. She could hear from the conversation that the call was from Ben Florian, Frank’s partner. She watched Frank’s face change from a grin to a look of utter surprise and shock. ‘‘Thanks for calling, Ben.’’ He hung up the phone and looked at Diane for a moment. ‘‘That was Ben. He was on his way to work and heard the news.’’ ‘‘What

  news?’’ asked Diane. ‘‘Mayor Spence Jefferies was murdered last night.’’

  15

  Diane and Frank stood staring at each other for several long moments, astonishment and disbelief reflected on both their faces.

  ‘‘Murdered?’’ Diane said finally. ‘‘The mayor? I just saw him yesterday.’’

  She always thought it strange that people would say that, as if having just seen someone should have afforded them protection against death. But there she was, saying it with the same surprise in her voice. She wanted to say Are you sure? but that was just as silly.

  Murdered—a dreadful word, even applied to someone she didn’t like.

  ‘‘Who?’’ she asked. ‘‘How?’’

  ‘‘He was apparently killed at home, shot in the back of the head. They don’t have a suspect yet.’’

  ‘‘When did it happen?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘Late last night,’’ said Frank. ‘‘Ben didn’t have a lot of information. He just heard it on the news.’’

  ‘‘Well,’’ said Diane, ‘‘this is certainly unexpected.’’

  There was a time when she would have been one of the first on the scene. She would have known last night that there had been a murder and by now would have collected a truckload of evidence. But now she was like everyone else in Rosewood—one of the last to find out. That was good, she told herself. Nothing like getting called out late at night to look at someone with the back of his head shot out. Now she could go to work and, like most everyone else, simply speculate about what had happened.

  ‘‘The detective in charge will probably want to talk to you,’’ said Frank. ‘‘Just because you talked with him yesterday.’’

  Diane nodded. ‘‘Probably so. The chief of police was there too.’’ Diane smiled halfheartedly. ‘‘He’ll probably say I did it then and there and moved the body.’’ She kissed Frank again. ‘‘You’re going to be late.’’

  ‘‘Have a good day,’’ he said. ‘‘I may be late tonight. These identity thefts are becoming a real bear.’’

  ‘‘I’ll be here playing the piano,’’ she said.

  ‘‘I laid out a finger exercise book for you.’’ Frank gestured toward the room with the piano.

  ‘‘I saw it. The cover said The Virtuoso Pianist. The words virtuoso and Diane Fallon will never be heard in the same sentence.’’

  ‘‘Forget the word. Do the exercises. They’ll strengthen your fourth and fifth fingers.’’

  ‘‘My fingers are very strong,’’ protested Diane, looking at her hands.

  Frank took a hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. ‘‘Strong enough for rock climbing, but not for the piano. Trust me. You’ll find those seventh cords you have trouble with a little easier. See you sometime tonight.’’ Frank kissed her again and left, carrying his cup of coffee.

  Diane stood at the door, sipped her coffee, and watched him get into his car. She smiled and waved as he pulled out of the driveway. It felt so domestic. She closed the door. I don’t have to think about murder anymore, she thought as she got ready for work. I have to think about Neanderthals—and maybe getting arrested.

  ‘‘Have you heard?’’ said Andie when Diane walked into her office. She had a newspaper spread out on her desk.

  ‘‘About the mayor? Yes,’’ said Diane. ‘‘That’s a shocker.’’

  ‘‘And he was just here. Do you think someone will come talk to us about him?’’ said Andie, excitement dancing in her eyes. Diane thought Andie would have had her fill of murder when Diane was director of the crime lab.

  ‘‘Probably,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘Strange, isn’t it? So far the police don’t know anything,’’ said Andie. ‘‘Or at least they aren’t telling the news what they know. You don’t think you’ll be a suspect, do you? I mean, you were suing him.’’

  Diane noticed Andie didn’t seem at all disturbed by the prospect of her boss being a murder suspect. Maybe Diane’s being a suspect was starting to be old hat to her.

  ‘‘I doubt it,’’ said Diane.

  Diane went to her office and sat down at her desk. It was unsettling having the mayor gunned down. It was too much like third-world-style politics, a breakdown of the rule of law. The thought gave her an urge to want to stop it. She got on her computer and looked up the story on the Web. The online media didn’t have much more than Andie had told her.

  Mayor Spence Jefferies was found in his kitchen, shot in the back of his head. He was found early this morning by an aide who came around to the house when he couldn’t get in touch with the mayor about a meeting scheduled for this morning. Diane reached for the phone, then stopped. Who did she think she was going to call? Why was she calling anyone about this anyway? She didn’t do murder anymore. She stood up and left her office.

  ‘‘I’m going to work on the Neanderthal exhibit,’’ she told Andie.

  ‘‘Sure thing, Dr. F,’’ said Andie, not looking up from the newspaper.

  ‘‘I wish we could use a fountain,’’ said one of the exhibit planners, standing back, looking at the diorama of the Neanderthals. ‘‘Real water falling from the rocks would be so cool.’’

  ‘‘And the mold and mildew would look so real,’’ said another.

  ‘‘True,’’ said the first.

  Diane started to say something about the placement of vegetation when her phone rang. It was Kendel, her assistant director. Diane answered it with a tinge of expectation of good news.

  ‘‘I did it,’’ said Kendel.

  Diane could hear the excitement in her voice even over the static of the weak signal between the cell phones.

  ‘‘You were able to get it?’’ said Diane. ‘‘Kendel, that’s great.’’

  The staff working on the exhibit all stopped at the sound of Kendel’s name. They all knew she was negotiating for a set of Neanderthal bones—a real coup for a small museum like RiverTrail. The museum had casts of various skeletons on display, but none of the real thing.

  ‘‘It’s the most expensive thing we’ve purchased,’’ said Kendel. ‘‘But, I have to tell you, they are a nice set of bones. You’re going to like them.’’

  ‘‘Good job, Kendel,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Really good job. We’re all looking forward to seeing them—hopefully the public will too.’’

  Kendel had just recently gotten her mojo back after being accused of stealing artifacts—an accusation that nearly cost her her career. Having her back to her old self meant good things for the museum. Kendel was skillful at acquiring quality collections.

  ‘‘She got the Neanderthal skeleton?’’ the staff said simultaneously when Diane got off the phone.

  ‘‘Yes, she did,’’ said Diane. She started to elaborate when her phone rang again. This time it was Andie.

  ‘‘Dr. F, you have a policeman here to see you,’’ said Andie.

  ‘‘I’m sure it’s about yesterday’s meeting. I’ll be right there.’’ Diane eyed the diorama again and made a suggestion about where to place more vegetation before she left to see the policeman. She wondered if Peeks had sent him to arrest her. She sighed.

  The policeman was Izzy Wallace, a friend of Frank’s and a man who had not liked Diane very much in the beginning of their relationship, believing she was all wrong for his good buddy Frank. Later, Diane had identified Izzy’s only child as one of many students who died in an off-campus explosion. Rather than hating the messenger, he had changed. The experience had formed a kind of bond between them. They both had lost an only child to violence.

  Izzy had lost a lot of weight. He used to be a big, barrel-chested guy, but he was thin now. Not lean and trim, but almost wasted looking. Diane guessed it was grief. She ushered him into her sitting room.

  ‘‘How are you and your wife doing?’’ she asked.

  He shrugged. ‘‘One day at a time. People at church have been real helpful.’’ He sat down on the edge of the sofa.

  ‘‘You know, you always want somebody to make sense of it.’’ He shook his head in a mournful way. ‘‘But there just isn’t any sense to it.’’

  ‘‘No,’’ said Diane, ‘‘there’s not.’’

  He turned down an offer of a drink.

  ‘‘Not unless you have something stronger than soda,’’ he said with a weak laugh.

  Diane wasn’t sure if he was completely kidding. She sympathized. She had gone through all the stages of mourning too. She sat down in the chair next to the sofa.

  ‘‘I keep meaning to hide some good Kentucky bourbon here for difficult times. But we have so many demanding days, I’d be drinking all the time,’’ she said, smiling.

  ‘‘I hear you there,’’ he said. ‘‘Difficult times. They keep coming, don’t they?’’

  ‘‘Sometimes it seems that way,’’ said Diane. ‘‘What can I do for you?’’

  ‘‘It’s about the murder,’’ he said.

  ‘‘Jefferies was here just yesterday,’’ said Diane, ‘‘about the crime lab.’’

  She was surprised they’d sent Izzy and not a detective to interview her. Not that Izzy couldn’t do a good job, but she thought he worked the desk now. She supposed they figured she had little to add to what they already knew. After all, Garnett was also in the meeting. He could tell them everything she could.

  ‘‘I know,’’ said Izzy. ‘‘I didn’t come to talk to you about that—that is, not exactly. We—me and several police buddies—would like you to investigate.’’

  Diane hadn’t expected that. ‘‘What? Me? Why? I can’t intrude on an ongoing investigation. Certainly not one of this significance. And I have no standing to investigate.’’

  ‘‘We got it figured out,’’ said Izzy.

  ‘‘I don’t understand. Why would you want me to investigate?’’ she asked.

  ‘‘Because Edgar Peeks will be in charge of the investigation,’’ Izzy said. ‘‘We don’t trust him.’’

  Diane was still not understanding. She’d heard there was no love lost between the rank-and-file policemen and the new chief of police, but she didn’t know why. So why would they want her to investigate?

  ‘‘I don’t—’’ began Diane.

  ‘‘It’s not out yet, but they’re arresting Douglas Gar-nett for the murder,’’ said Izzy. ‘‘Peeks is just going to hang it on him with no investigation. And that’ll be it.’’

  16

  ‘‘They’re going to arrest Garnett? That’s ridiculous,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘It is, but lunacy has never stopped the likes of Edgar Peeks before,’’ said Izzy.

  ‘‘Tell me what happened. Why does he think Gar-nett is the murderer?’’ Despite herself, Diane leaned forward, anxious to hear the story.

  ‘‘After they left here yesterday, Garnett and the mayor got into a big argument down at the police station. I tell you, you really pissed Jefferies and Peeks off when you told them to take the crime lab out of the museum. They considered it the jewel in their crown. It was really important to them.’’ Izzy grinned broadly. ‘‘I’ve never seen Chief Peeks so mad.’’

  ‘‘I wasn’t taking away the lab. I just told them to move it,’’ said Diane. ‘‘What was the problem?’’

  ‘‘They wanted the whole enchilada—the crime lab, the bone lab, and the DNA lab. They especially wanted the DNA lab, and as long as the crime lab was in the museum, they had a chance of getting control of all of them—they thought. You come along and throw a wrench in their plans. Then they find out the city doesn’t even own some of the expensive equipment in the crime lab; you do. Like I said, they were really pissed. Warrick—you remember her?’’

  Diane nodded. Janice Warrick was a detective she had butted heads with when she first moved back to Rosewood but who later became a trusted colleague if not a friend.

  ‘‘Well, Warrick overheard the mayor talking to Peeks about replacing you as director of the museum,’’ he said. Diane laughed. ‘‘What? The mayor has no authority over the museum or me.’’

  Izzy nodded and gestured with his hands. ‘‘I know, but you see, that’s the way they look at everything. You’d think Jefferies was elected emperor of the universe and not mayor of Rosewood. They’re crazy. And let me tell you, you were making them crazier.’’

  ‘‘Who knew I had so much power,’’ Diane commented drily. ‘‘Did they say how they proposed to replace me?’’

  said Diane.

  ‘‘No, but I wouldn’t have put anything past them,’’ said Izzy.

  Diane hadn’t liked the mayor, or the people he associated with, and had serious doubts about which direction their moral compass pointed, but still she was surprised at the picture Izzy was painting of them.

  She said, ‘‘I know they wanted Garnett to lie about who the forensic anthropology lab belonged to, but how could they possibly think they would get away with that? I keep more records than the IRS.’’

  ‘‘I don’t know. They just like to throw everything at an enemy at once, hoping to overwhelm them, I suppose. Make them more willing to negotiate. That’s why they threatened to arrest you, you know. They don’t have much of a prayer to do that.’’

  ‘‘Why?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘Because the bottom of the gorge is just across the county line. The GBI handled the scene. Didn’t you know that?’’

  Of course, the county line; she had forgotten. Diane felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She realized that she was truly afraid that she was going to be arrested and framed.

  ‘‘You been worried about that?’’ he said.

  Diane nodded.

  ‘‘Can’t say as I blame you. Who knows how those people think? They might have tried to come up with something. I know they would have pulled some other dirty trick out of their hat to back up what they were saying about your bone lab. They would have given you a run for your money. Kept you real busy dealing with them anyway.’’

 

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