Dead Hunt dffi-5

by Beverly Connor

  Diane grabbed her cell. ‘‘I need to speak with Kingsley,’’ she said. ‘‘Korey can show you the way back to either my or Jonas’ office. I’ll catch up to you in a little bit.’’

  ‘‘That information must be really important,’’ said Jacobs.

  ‘‘Both things are,’’ called Diane as she went out the door.

  Before she was out of hearing range, she heard Korey telling Jacobs, ‘‘It’s like that here all the time.’’

  Diane retraced her steps to the geology section and to Mike’s office and knocked.

  ‘‘Doc,’’ said Mike when he opened the door. ‘‘Nice surprise. What can I do for you?’’

  ‘‘I’d like to borrow your office for a minute,’’ she said.

  ‘‘Sure. Come in. Shall I leave?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘I hate to throw you out of your office, but would you mind?’’ Diane asked.

  ‘‘No. I have some things to do in the lab. Take all the time you need.’’

  ‘‘Mike, thanks,’’ said Diane as he was leaving.

  He lingered at the door a moment. ‘‘Sure, Doc. You know you can always count on me.’’ He closed the door.

  Diane wanted a private place to talk with Kingsley, and Mike’s was the closest office. She looked up his number on her cell.

  ‘‘Diane,’’ Kingsley said, answering. ‘‘I’m relieved to hear your voice. I was just reading about you. Are you all right?’’

  ‘‘Yes, I’m fine. I haven’t seen the paper; what does it say?’’

  ‘‘Not much, really. Something about a home invasion and an unknown assailant who might be injured or dead. What happened?’’ he asked.

  Good ol’ Garnett, thought Diane. He had a knack for totally confusing a news story.

  ‘‘A lot more than in the papers. How are you?’’

  ‘‘I guess Shane told you about my accident. Asleep at the wheel...I—’’

  ‘‘I think you may have been drugged,’’ interrupted Diane.

  Kingsley was silent for a moment.

  ‘‘Drugged?’’ he said. ‘‘What do you mean? How? You mean at the museum?’’

  ‘‘Do you have a bruise or—I know this is going to sound a little appalling—but do you have any clothes with your blood on them from the accident?’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘I don’t know. Bruises, yes, but my wife took my clothes. What’s this about?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘I’m sure you’ve metabolized it out of your system by now, but the blood in a bruise or in your clothes can be analyzed for barbiturates,’’ Diane said.

  ‘‘Barbiturates. Okay, what’s this about?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘Last night I apparently slept through a violent homicide in my apartment. At the hospital they found barbiturates in my blood sample. If it weren’t for that, I’d probably be under arrest for murder.’’

  There was a rather long silence at the other end of the phone. Diane was beginning to wonder if he had hung up—or passed out.

  ‘‘You better tell me about this,’’ he said at last.

  Diane heard sounds like he was rearranging himself in his chair, or bed. She explained about waking up to the sound of the police knocking on her door and then falling in the pool of blood.

  ‘‘It turned out to be Clymene’s blood,’’ Diane told him.

  ‘‘Clymene’s? I don’t understand. Is she dead?’’ asked Ross.

  ‘‘She has to be. It was fresh blood and there was too much blood loss for her to still be alive.’’ Diane explained everything she knew about the incident. ‘‘When I heard you had fallen asleep while driving home, it made me wonder if both of us had been drugged at the restaurant. Perhaps someone found it easier to drug both our drinks than to try and make sure I got the tainted drink. That’s always tricky. I’m going to the restaurant to question them now.’’

  ‘‘Clymene dead? I can’t believe it. What was she doing in your apartment?’’ he said.

  ‘‘I have no idea,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I don’t understand how she even got in. I didn’t hear anything, nor did any of my neighbors. And the person in the apartment directly below me hears every little footfall.’’

  ‘‘The newspaper account was wholly inadequate,’’ he said.

  ‘‘Garnett tries to keep anything to do with the crime lab, in this case me, out of the papers. He usually does a pretty good job.’’

  ‘‘This is strange. In a bizarre way I’m a little relieved. My wife, Lydia, is convinced that something came loose in my brain. She wants me to take all these tests. If I was drugged . . . well, I actually feel a little better.’’

  Diane laughed. ‘‘I’m glad you can see the silver lining in this.’’

  ‘‘Lydia almost had me convinced, and I was getting a little worried,’’ he said. ‘‘You say they almost arrested you?’’

  ‘‘That was mostly political. The DA was very upset with me,’’ said Diane. ‘‘And of course I couldn’t account for all that blood in my apartment.’’

  ‘‘The DA? Oh, I’m sorry, Diane. I didn’t call him,’’ said Kingsley.

  ‘‘That’s all right. I’m glad you’re safe. I’m also glad you spoke with your FBI friend in art theft about me. I appreciate that.’’

  ‘‘Shane’s a good guy. Knows a lot about the subject,’’ he said.

  ‘‘I’ll let you know what I find out from the restaurant staff,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘Tell me,’’ asked Ross, ‘‘how are you doing, really? You had a hit on the head, the paper said?’’

  ‘‘It wasn’t serious.’’ Diane told him about the trip to the hospital and the attack there. She left out what the attacker had said to her about being a dirty dealer. She didn’t know why, except she didn’t want people to start questioning her honesty.

  ‘‘You were attacked again? The same day? Do you think it was the same person who killed Clymene?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘I don’t know. I haven’t really had time to sit down and think things out,’’ she said. ‘‘Like, who had a motive to kill Clymene?’’

  ‘‘I imagine anyone of her victim’s family. You know, someone could have recognized her picture from the trial publicity and tracked her down. It may be a family from a victim we aren’t even aware of. You really are going to have to discover who she is.’’

  ‘‘I know. And I don’t know if it was in the papers, but Rev. Rivers was murdered right after Clymene escaped,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘Rivers murdered? Oh, no. He was really a decent guy. Clymene must have convinced him to help her escape. I told you she was good—and no good.’’

  ‘‘That’s what I was thinking,’’ said Diane, ‘‘that she got to him. He looked so disappointed when I shared the evidence against her with him.’’

  ‘‘I’m really not in bad condition. Tomorrow I’ll drive to Rosewood and we can talk about it,’’ he said.

  ‘‘You don’t think you should at least take another day or two to recover?’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘I was lucky,’’ said Ross. ‘‘I just ended up in a ditch. The air bag was the worst part of it. The hospital didn’t even keep me.’’

  ‘‘I’ll see you sometime tomorrow, then.’’

  After Diane hung up with Kingsley she called Frank.

  ‘‘Babe,’’ he said, ‘‘how are things going?’’

  ‘‘All things considering, they’re going pretty well. I avoided getting arrested, thanks to Garnett. Right in the middle of that interview, an agent from the FBI art theft division came to talk to me. I’m still a free woman, so I guess things are going pretty well.’’

  ‘‘Why don’t I come and pick you up?’’ said Frank.

  ‘‘I still have to talk to my crime scene people. And I have an FBI agent wandering around in the building that I need to keep track of. I also have to speak with the museum restaurant people.’’

  She told him about Kingsley’s accident and her suspicion about the source of the barbiturates.

  ‘‘I hardly
know what to say,’’ Frank said when she finished.

  ‘‘I know. It’s not easy being me.’’ Diane fingered a geode on Mike’s desk. She picked it up and examined it. It looked like a tiny cave filled with sparkling crystal.

  ‘‘You need to alert your security people at the museum to watch out for you.’’

  Diane could hear the concern in his voice and it made her feel guilty. ‘‘Thanks for letting me stay at your house.’’

  ‘‘You know you can stay here as long as you like.’’

  She put the geode back down and leaned back in the chair. ‘‘I know, and it’s tempting.’’

  ‘‘If you ever get back here, I’ll really tempt you,’’ Frank said.

  Diane smiled. ‘‘That’s worth hurrying up for. Oh, I almost forgot. The marshals said they know you— Chad Merrick and Dylan Drew. Do you remember them?’’

  ‘‘Yes, I do. Rather tenacious. They aren’t going to like not having a body.’’

  That’s what I figured, she thought.

  When Diane hung up, she felt a cold stab of fear in the pit of her stomach. She was quickly losing control of everything around her and the thought panicked her. She gripped Mike’s geode tightly, inhaled deeply, and let her breath out slowly. She had to solve the mysteries—all of them—or she could never make her world right. She set the geode down, got up, and headed down to the restaurant, hoping that the young woman who waited on her and Kingsley was working today.

  Chapter 26

  The museum restaurant with its tall old-brick archways and vaulted chambers looked very much like a medieval castle. In the evenings all the tables were lit by candles. It was a cozy restaurant and served good food. This evening the restaurant was packed, as it had been the previous evening when Diane was there with Kingsley. She glanced around the room and saw several people she knew. So far no one had noticed her. She spoke to the hostess and asked if Karalyn was working tonight. She was. Diane asked to see her in the manager’s office.

  ‘‘Sure. Is everything okay?’’ asked the hostess.

  ‘‘Fine,’’ said Diane, hoping her smile didn’t look as fake as if felt. ‘‘Just ask her to meet me, please.’’

  Diane hated this kind of interview. Karalyn was young and had worked at the restaurant for several months while attending Bartram University. Diane couldn’t really imagine her drugging the patrons—or her. Diane walked to the back of the restaurant, looking straight ahead. She saw someone wave to her out of the corner of her eye. She pretended she didn’t notice.

  Diane went into the office, a small room with a desk piled high with papers and restaurant catalogs. She pulled out two chairs, sat down in one, and waited for Karalyn.

  ‘‘Sorry I took so long to see you . . . someone didn’t show up for work and I have to fill in for him,’’ she said, a little out of breath.

  ‘‘Did you lose someone?’’ asked Diane. She motioned to the chair and Karalyn sat down.

  ‘‘One of the wait staff didn’t show up and the manager can’t get hold of him. It’s common in this business, unfortunately. Some people don’t bother to call.’’ She frowned and smoothed her long skirt.

  ‘‘Do you remember me and a gentleman eating dinner last night?’’

  ‘‘Sure. He was here most of the day,’’ said Karalyn.

  ‘‘When we were eating, did you fill the drinks you brought us?’’

  ‘‘Why...no, as a matter of fact, Bobby Banks did.’’ said Karalyn. ‘‘He’s the one who didn’t show up. Was something wrong with the drinks?’’

  ‘‘Why did he fill them and not you?’’ asked Diane.

  Karalyn’s frown deepened. ‘‘He offered,’’ she said. ‘‘We were so busy. I just thought he was trying to get on my good side, to ask me out.’’ She paused a moment. ‘‘He wasn’t, was he?’’

  Diane shook her head. ‘‘No, I don’t think he was. Do you have an address for him?’’

  ‘‘Sure.’’ Karalyn jumped up and went to a filing cabinet and started looking through the files.

  ‘‘Did you or anyone here notice anything unusual about Bobby yesterday?’’ asked Diane as Karalyn searched for the address.

  ‘‘No. He was his usual self. Funny and friendly. We all like him. He’s a good worker and he doesn’t try to steal tips. A little odd, though. Very juvenile acting. Well, this is funny,’’ said Karalyn.

  ‘‘What?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘His address: 1214 Rockwell Drive,’’ she said.

  ‘‘Rockwell only goes to 800. That would put him in the woods,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘It would. What’s going on?’’ she said, looking at Diane with a frown.

  ‘‘What does he look like?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘Blond hair. Hazel eyes. Slim. Real cute . . . almost pretty in a guy sort of way,’’ said Karalyn. ‘‘About five ten, I guess. My boyfriend is five ten and Bobby seems about that tall.’’

  ‘‘Does he have a personal space? Don’t you guys have lockers?’’ asked Diane.

  Karalyn nodded. ‘‘That was an odd thing about him,’’ she said. ‘‘He was really into cleanliness.’’

  ‘‘What do you mean?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘He’s always wiping down everything. Even his locker.’’ She paused a moment in thought. ‘‘He was getting rid of fingerprints, wasn’t he?’’

  Karalyn was getting that sparkle in her eye that Diane often saw in people when they found themselves landed in a mystery.

  ‘‘Maybe,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘Wow, can’t you tell me what he did?’’ she said.

  ‘‘I don’t know that he did anything,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I just need to speak with him.’’ She left Karalyn closing the filing cabinet and walked out and through the restaurant.

  ‘‘Diane.’’

  She recognized the voice of Kenneth Meyerson, one of the board members. She turned to him and smiled. He was at a table with his wife.

  ‘‘Can you sit down a minute?’’ he asked.

  Diane hesitated, then smiled and sat down. ‘‘Just a minute. How are you and Evelyn?’’

  ‘‘We’re great. Just going to a concert on campus tonight. Ever heard of a fellow named August Kellenmeyer?’’ asked Kenneth.

  ‘‘Oh, Ken, of course she has,’’ said his wife.

  Evelyn was a petite woman with pixielike short, dark hair and a heart-shaped face. She reminded Diane of Clara Bow.

  ‘‘Pianist,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Yes. One of my favorites.’’

  ‘‘I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the board meeting yesterday,’’ said Kenneth.

  ‘‘You enjoyed that?’’ said Diane. ‘‘You must be hard up for entertainment.’’

  He chuckled. ‘‘Oh, you don’t know. Before you arrived, Barclay was telling Vanessa, ‘This is what happens when you have no oversight. You’ve got to change this. The board has to have more power. I’ll show you how to handle this.’ He hammered his hand up and down on the table like he was swatting flies.’’ Kenneth laughed. ‘‘I guess he did show her how to handle it. I thought to myself when he was going on, Diane’s going to rip him a new one. And you did.’’

  ‘‘I take it you’ve had a run-in with him before,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘Oh, yeah. When I was just starting out I went to his bank for a loan. He treated me like I was hardly worth stepping on. Barely looked at me when he was turning down my application and lecturing me on how there are bigger computer companies out there and who was I to think I could compete with them out of my garage,’’ he said.

  Kenneth’s computer company was now both successful and international, but Diane could tell he still felt the sting of that rejection.

  ‘‘I guess you showed him,’’ said Diane.

  Kenneth waved his hand dismissively. ‘‘He’s turned down so many loans since then, I don’t think he even remembers me. It was a long time ago. I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the meeting.’’

  ‘‘Why di
d you guys vote him in?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘I didn’t. You know Vanessa, Laura, and Madge. They are old Rosewood just like Barclay. Laura thinks he’s just a gruff avuncular bear. Hell, he’s good to his own kind. And Vanessa thought we could use a banker. I don’t think they were pleased with his performance, to tell you the truth.’’

  ‘‘I certainly wasn’t,’’ said Diane. She wished Kenneth and his wife a pleasant evening and left hoping she wouldn’t run into anyone else. But as she exited the restaurant she ran into Vanessa and Laura leaving at the same time. Normally she enjoyed visiting with them. But not today. She stiffened as they said hello.