Dead Hunt dffi-5

by Beverly Connor

  Suddenly he fell sideways to the floor, taking Diane with him. He hit with a groan. Diane pulled the rope off and was scrambling to get away when she saw the silhouette of Andie furiously hitting him over the head with her purse.

  Diane ran to help Andie as the attacker rose to his feet and struck out at Andie, sending her flying into one of the display cases. He ran to the hallway door leading to the restaurant. The doors weren’t locked to keep people in, only to keep them out of the exhibit areas when other parts of the building were open to the public.

  He pulled his black ski mask from over his head as he pushed the door open and walked briskly into a sea of people leaving the restaurant to go to the concert.

  Diane went to Andie and knelt beside her.

  ‘‘Andie, are you all right?’’

  ‘‘I’m fine.’’ Andie scrambled to her feet. ‘‘Let’s get that guy!’’

  She took off through the door after the assailant, her purse flying behind her, before Diane could say anything. Diane followed at a quick pace.

  She chased after Andie, even though it occurred to her that the attacker might have gone the other way, against the crowd, escaping out the back of the museum. She smiled politely at the people coming down the long hallway from the restaurant to the front door. Fortunately, no one tried to engage her in conversation. As she stepped through the front doorway, she saw Andie start running across the parking lot.

  Damn.

  Diane took off after her. In the distance she saw the back of the attacker as he ran into the woods at the end of the lot. Diane increased her pace, vowing to start wearing running shoes no matter what outfit she chose. She caught up to Andie just as Andie was about to follow the assailant into the woods.

  ‘‘No, Andie. This man’s dangerous. Don’t go after him.’’

  ‘‘But—’’

  ‘‘No buts.’’ Diane put an arm around Andie’s shoulders. ‘‘Thanks for saving my life.’’

  Andie was breathing hard and started shaking. ‘‘I had to come back after a phone number and I heard you scream.’’

  ‘‘Wasn’t there a security guard at the front desk?’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘No.’’ She shook her head. ‘‘I guess nobody’s going to make fun of my heavy purse again,’’ Andie said.

  ‘‘I know I won’t,’’ said Diane. Off in the distance through the woods she heard a vehicle engine start. ‘‘Call security. Don’t follow me.’’

  Diane started through the woods. She knew where the car was. There was a dirt access road just beyond a few yards of trees. That’s where he parked his car, away from cameras. She ran through the woods as quickly as she could and still stay upright.

  Definitely need my running shoes. Heels just won’t do.

  She arrived at the spot just in time to see the vehicle go around the curve. It was too far away to see a license plate. But she could see it was a dark SUV, a Tahoe, she thought but wasn’t sure. The quarter moon didn’t provide quite enough light to make out anything but a shape.

  She walked back through the woods to where Andie was waiting. Security was just arriving in a white Jeep Cherokee. Two guards jumped out.

  ‘‘What happened?’’ said the older one.

  Both were relatively new. Chanell Napier, head of security, had hired them only last month.

  ‘‘I was attacked in the mammal exhibit,’’ said Diane, boring her gaze into them. ‘‘Andie, my assistant, rescued me. There wasn’t anyone stationed on the desk in the lobby.’’

  ‘‘I’m sorry,’’ said the younger man. ‘‘I just went to the office for a minute. It’s down the hall. It wasn’t that long.’’

  He looked to be about twenty-two, probably a student. Many of the security staff were.

  ‘‘It was long enough,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I’m getting all of you red shirts until you straighten yourselves out.’’ Diane started walking back toward the museum.

  ‘‘What did she mean?’’ she heard the younger one say.

  ‘‘Something from Star Trek,’’ his partner said. ‘‘I think we’re dead.’’

  ‘‘I’ll need to see the video,’’ Diane called back at them.

  She was about to rethink the policy of hiring students. Several times in the past few months people had secreted themselves in the museum after closing.

  Jin was out in the woods trying to find tire tracks to make casts. Neva had taken Andie’s purse and found two hairs snagged by the metal parts. Diane, Garnett, and David sat and watched the tape of the intruder on the security monitor. Frank stood behind them lending another set of eyes. Unfortunately there was no video of the assailant’s face. Not even a fuzzy image for David to clear up.

  ‘‘This was the same guy as in the hospital?’’ said

  Garnett.

  ‘‘Yes, I’m sure of it,’’ said Diane. ‘‘And it sounded

  personal. At first I thought it had something to do

  with the artifacts, but now I don’t know.’’ She just

  realized that she may have seen him earlier while she

  was speaking with Laura and Vanessa—the fleeting

  shadow she saw among the saber-toothed tiger’s flora.

  She shivered.

  ‘‘What about the attack in your apartment? You

  think it’s the same guy?’’ asked Garnett.

  Diane hesitated a moment, startled at being brought

  out of her thoughts. ‘‘This guy really wanted to kill

  me,’’ she said. ‘‘I think if he had me as vulnerable as

  I was in my apartment he would have done it. Frankly,

  I don’t know what this is about. You should have

  heard him as he was telling me he hated me. It was...

  it was gut level. He meant it.’’

  ‘‘Can you think of anyone you’ve offended . . .

  lately?’’ asked Garnett.

  ‘‘Other than Riddmann, no,’’ said Diane. Garnett grimaced. ‘‘I appreciate you apologizing to

  him. I know it was tough.’’

  ‘‘Not very,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I had my fingers crossed.’’

  She eyed the video. ‘‘Is there nothing that shows his

  face? No reflective surface, nothing?’’

  ‘‘I haven’t seen anything,’’ said David.

  ‘‘It’s just not there,’’ said Frank. ‘‘He must have

  known where the cameras are.’’

  ‘‘Is he stalking me?’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘He has to be,’’ Frank said. ‘‘How else would he

  know you were at the hospital and how to get to

  you here?’’

  ‘‘Well, damn,’’ said Diane. ‘‘What the hell did I do

  to this guy to inspire so much hatred in him?’’ ‘‘I have no idea,’’ said Garnett. ‘‘You’re going to

  have to answer that. Go home and get some rest.

  Maybe something will occur to you in the morning.’’ ‘‘What about the exam room at the hospital?’’

  asked Diane.

  ‘‘No go,’’ said Garnett. ‘‘A doctor came in and overrode your instructions. He had it cleaned up so they

  could use it.’’

  Diane swore.

  ‘‘Do we have anything?’’ she asked.

  ‘‘We did find black nylon fibers on your hospital

  gown,’’ said David.

  ‘‘His ski mask,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Probably the same one

  he wore tonight.’’

  ‘‘There were two gowns,’’ David said. ‘‘Did you

  have two?’’

  ‘‘Yes, I was trying to correct for a flaw in the design,’’ said Diane.

  She turned from the video. ‘‘I’m going to go get

  some sleep. When you find the guy who attacked me,’’

  she said to Garnett, ‘‘let me know so I can send him

  my drycleaning bill. David, what are you doing working in the crime lab? You are suppo
sed to be doing

  your vacation work.’’

  ‘‘I am, but your crime scenes alone are putting a

  lot of pressure on the unit. I thought I’d lend a hand,’’

  he said.

  ‘‘Go get some rest now. I’m going to,’’ said Diane. Before Diane would leave she made sure her crime

  scene crew and Andie went home—except for Jin. He

  said he was staying in his lab. Jin designed the DNA

  lab that Diane had installed in the basement of the

  west wing. In it Jin allowed room for two small bedrooms, each with two bunk beds and bathrooms.

  Everything in them was either shiny metal or tile and looked so modern it could have been a cabin on a spaceship. Diane suspected that he often spent the night there. David said he probably spent hours just standing in the middle of the lab gazing in adoration

  at the equipment. Diane halfway believed him. ‘‘Did you lose a whole day of work because of me?’’

  Diane asked Frank on the way to his house. ‘‘No. I got more than a day’s work done at home.

  I had to go over some account books and correlate

  them with dates, and the quiet of my home is more

  conducive than my office to that kind of work,’’ he

  said.

  ‘‘That’s a relief. I hate to think that it’s come to the

  point that you have to babysit me,’’ said Diane. Frank took her hand. ‘‘I’m having the Mountain

  Rose deliver our meal tonight. I thought while you

  are a guest I’ll take advantage of it,’’ he said, kissing

  the palm of her hand.

  ‘‘Wow. I can’t wait for dessert,’’ she said.

  When Frank was in full romantic mode it was better than a vacation at the beach, or the mountains, or even caving. Certainly better than a good night’s sleep. Better than a month of good nights’ sleep. Frank had a gift for romance. So when Diane arrived at the museum the next morning, she felt in control of the day.

  She parked the museum car—which she’d had museum security deliver to Frank’s house early that morning—in her usual spot and went to security first. Chanell Napier was on her two-week vacation and her second-in-command was in charge. C. W. Goodman was waiting for her.

  Goodman kept his hair cropped close to his head. It was hard to tell what color it was—premature gray or blond. He was a thin, boney man who had been in security all his working life, which Diane guessed was about fifteen years.

  ‘‘I figured you would come here right away,’’ he said.

  Though he didn’t have a hat at the moment, she could visualize it in his hand as he stood in front of her. He looked unhappy as he offered her a chair.

  Diane didn’t sit in the chair Goodman offered. Instead, she stood behind it and gripped its back with her hands as she spoke.

  ‘‘I know it’s hard to keep people out of a place that, for most of the day and some of the evening, is open to the public. I also know that there are hundreds of places to hide if someone is determined—and this attacker last night was nothing if not determined,’’ she said.

  ‘‘That’s true, ma’am,’’ said Goodman.

  ‘‘However, I thought there were procedures in place so that no one leaves the front desks unattended in either wing,’’ she said.

  ‘‘There are, and all I can say is Adam made an error in judgment. He knew he was going to be gone just a minute and didn’t want to bother another guard. I think he has learned his lesson. There is no such thing as just a minute. A lot can happen in a minute,’’ said Goodman.

  ‘‘Yes, it can. Reinforce in the personnel that they need to follow the procedures Napier has laid out.’’ Diane paused a moment. ‘‘I know this museum doesn’t seem like any kind of security risk, and the temptation to let some rules slide is great. This isn’t NORAD, but we still need to take security seriously. We have a lot of valuable things in here and a lot of people that need to be protected.’’

  Diane was sure many in security thought that she herself was the only security problem. It certainly seemed that way to her. When she finished with Goodman, she went to her office. Andie was already at her desk, as usual.

  ‘‘Are you all right today?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘Am I ever. What a rush. I can see why you have so much fun,’’ she said.

  Fun. Is that what I have? thought Diane. ‘‘Andie, thank you for the rescue. As for chasing the guy, don’t do anything like that again. He is very dangerous— whoever he is.’’

  ‘‘I know that, but I was just so full of adrenaline,’’ she said.

  ‘‘I understand, and I really appreciate your coming in when you did. I just don’t want you to get hurt.’’

  ‘‘Yeah, I know. That’s why I didn’t tell my mother,’’ said Andie.

  Diane smiled. ‘‘So, anything going on this morning?’’

  ‘‘We are still getting phone calls and e-mail about the artifacts. Several contributors have called to say they are canceling their contributions. You know, that’s hardly fair,’’ said Andie.

  ‘‘No, it isn’t. But that’s their choice. Anything else?’’

  ‘‘Yeah, something really weird,’’ said Andie.

  ‘‘Must be, for you to call it weird. Weird is the norm for this place,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘Well, you know I open your mail,’’ said Andie.

  ‘‘Yes, that’s part of your job description. I take it you found something strange,’’ she said.

  ‘‘Well, yes. I opened this envelope.’’ Andie took a fat package out of her drawer and laid it on her desk.

  ‘‘What is it?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘It’s money. A lot of it.’’

  Chapter 30

  ‘‘Money?’’ said Diane. ‘‘How much?’’

  ‘‘I haven’t really counted it, but there’s a bunch.’’

  Andie pulled a packet of bills from the large envelope.

  ‘‘There’s a lot of these bundles and they’re all hundreddollar bills.’’

  Diane picked up the stack of bills and fanned

  through it. A lot of pictures of Ben Franklin. ‘‘Is it a contribution to the museum? Is there a letter

  with it?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘Not exactly a letter.’’

  Andie lifted a piece of paper from the envelope

  lightly, holding it by its edge between the tips of her

  thumb and index finger, and laid it on the desktop.

  Diane stared at the sheet of plain white paper with

  one word printed on it in large block letters. BITCH. ‘‘Well, I’m confused,’’ said Diane. ‘‘You’re right.

  This is weird, even for us. Is there a return address?’’ ‘‘No,’’ said Andie. ‘‘What do I do with it? I mean,

  I can’t deposit it, can I?’’

  ‘‘No, I wouldn’t think—’’

  Diane was interrupted by the door opening. Andie

  shoved the packet of money back into the envelope. ‘‘Agent Jacobs,’’ said Diane, ‘‘you’re up early.’’ He looked at his watch. ‘‘Is it early? I thought I

  slept in.’’ He looked from Diane to Andie. We must both look guilty, Diane thought. ‘‘So, can I look at your accounting books?’’ he asked. Diane frowned, then picked up the package and the

  note. ‘‘We need to talk first.’’

  Diane’s office door was behind and to the right of

  Andie’s desk. Diane led Agent Jacobs through her

  own office and into her conference room, where he

  had interviewed Jonas and Kendel. Her conference

  room looked like a comfortable living room. It was

  decorated in shades of green. The main focus was a

  large round oak table with padded oak chairs. Just

  beyond the table were two plush gold-green sofas at

  right angles to each other. Both were very comfortable. She had slept on the
m overnight many times.