“Then we have mutual needs,” said Diane.
She entered and closed the door behind her. Diane and Kendel sat in the two chairs in front of the desk.
Diane took an index card from her pocket and handed it to Mrs. Lester. “Andie wrote down several dates and times for the management class.”
“That is what I wanted to speak with you about.” Whitney Lester laced her fingers in front of her. “I’ve talked with the state Human Resources Department to find out what my rights are.”
She paused, Diane supposed to let the weight of her words sink in.
“They tell me you can’t force me to take classes that I don’t want or need.”
“No, I can’t. However, I can release you from your job,” said Diane.
“They say you can’t.” Whitney folded her arms across her chest.
“If you want to make this a case of your lawyer versus the museum’s lawyers, that’s your prerogative and I won’t even try to talk you out of it. I don’t know, of course, how you presented your claim to Human Resources, but if I find that you aren’t able to do your job according to the standards laid out in your contract and in the museum’s handbook, I have an obligation to inform you of your shortcomings and provide a way to remedy your deficits. You of course can refuse. I can then let you go.”
“This course”—she flipped the card so that it slid across her desk, stopping near the edge—“has nothing to do with my knowledge of marine life and my ability to keep track of the collection.”
“On the contrary. First, part of your job is to manage staff, not just inanimate objects. As for the inanimate objects that you manage, had you gone to Security with the information of the theft, you would have discovered that almost all of the departments have had recent thefts similar to yours. It was your management style that stopped you from doing that and therefore stopped you from taking more effective action to manage the collection. As it is, Security was delayed getting the information. Time is an important element in recovering stolen items. Security has been looking for the stolen items. They didn’t know to include the seashells.”
Whitney Lester’s mouth sagged. The defiant glint in her gray eyes went out. She looked defeated. Diane imagined the news of the other thefts was an unexpected blow to her carefully constructed scenario of how she had been wronged.
“Other departments have had items stolen?” she asked in a low voice.
“Yes, and Dr. Price is not a suspect in any of them,” said Diane. “I can’t force you to go to these classes. But despite what the person at Human Resources told you, I can and will let you go if you refuse.”
Kendel sat relaxed in the chair with her legs crossed. She always managed to look elegant. Diane envied her for that. She also knew that was part of Kendel’s presentation when she negotiated—looking relaxed before she pounced. Kendel reminded Diane of a lion. Here, however, Kendel was a witness; pouncing wasn’t part of the task. Diane imagined she was content to watch. Kendel kept a pleasant smile on her face as if Diane were discussing the acquisition of a new collection of shells with Whitney.
Diane stood and Kendel stood with her. Whitney remained seated. “I guess I have no choice,” she said.
“We all have choices,” said Diane. “And we all must accept the consequences of our choices. This is not meant to be a punishment.” She and Kendel left Whitney in her office, furious, from the look on her face. Juliet, still looking like she was about to fade into the ether, was working with a tray of Turridae.
“Thanks for witnessing, Kendel,” said Diane when they were out of Aquatics.
“No problem.” Kendel walked with Diane until they reached one of the stairwells. Kendel nearly always used the stairs. “I have to visit the Preparation Department,” she said as she started to mount the stairs. “I think that went well. However, I would have hurt her and wouldn’t have had witnesses.” Kendel smiled, turned and walked up the stairs.
Diane laughed and shook her head. She took the elevator to the third floor and crossed over to the wing where the crime lab was located.
David, Jin, and Neva, sipping freshly brewed coffee, were sitting at the round corner table.
“We were just discussing McNair,” said David. “What is that guy about?”
“Glory, control, following his uncle’s agenda,” said Diane, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “This current fiasco is about the coming election. We haven’t had a crime this high profile and McNair and company want credit for bringing justice to all the families who also happen to vote in Rosewood.”
“It’s always politics,” said Jin. “Who was it who said kill the politicians?”
“I think it was Shakespeare,” said David. “And it was lawyers.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’ll take lawyers over politicians,” said Jin.
“How about my car?” asked Diane. “Have you had a chance to process it?”
“All done and locked in the vault,” said Neva. “When he goes to trial, all the information will be there. What do you want done with your car?”
“I suppose I’ll trade it again. I tell you, the guys at the Ford place must be wondering what kind of life I lead.”
“Speaking of that,” said David. “Did something happen last night? I’ve heard the security guards talking about guys with baseball bats lurking in the parking lot, and something about you and another person. What was that about?”
Diane explained briefly about the incident in the parking lot.
“So,” said Jin, “you can tell the car dealer that this was a separate incident from the one that damaged your car.”
“I do seem to attract maniacs,” said Diane.
“Are you all right? You said the police came in time?”
“Yes. It ended well and I hear the police caught both guys. I’m just hoping that it’s not something directed at the museum.”
“I see,” said David. “Just you.”
“What about the other person?” said Jin. “Could it have been about her?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe the police will have some news. I’ll call them a little later.”
The private crime lab elevator doors opened and Chief Garnett walked out. They watched him walk down the narrow hall past the glassed-in work areas of the crime lab to reach them on the other side. He sat down at the table, nodding at Diane’s staff.
“What brings you here?” asked Diane. She got up, poured a cup of coffee, and brought it to the table for Garnett. She passed the cup of black coffee over to him.
Garnett’s dark hair looked like it had more gray in it. His eyes had weary lines at the corners that she hadn’t noticed before. But maybe it was her imagination.
“Several things.” He picked up the coffee and took a sip. “Hot. That’s nice. It’s cold outside. First, I wanted to find out how the explosion analysis is going.”
“You’re joking, right?” said Diane. “You know we don’t have the evidence.”
“I mean the remains. That’s really the most important. That’s what everyone is interested in.”
“As the MEs have probably told you, all the intact bodies have been identified. On some of the remains we are waiting on the DNA. Some samples have been sent to the GBI lab. Jin is extracting samples from the last remains to be found. I haven’t finished analyzing all the bone fragments, but I’m working on it. I expect the DNA will be more important to the identification than my analysis.” Diane paused. “You know, don’t you, that much of the physical evidence is compromised? Any good defense attorney will ream whatever unlucky person gets on the stand to discuss the evidence. I can tell you this, it won’t be any of my people.”
“I agree. But McNair’s people are good. . . .”
“Garnett,” said Diane, “that doesn’t matter. Do you want a list of all the bags he broke the seal on and pawed through?”
Garnett sighed. “I know. The DA’s very upset. We are going to have to somehow work around what McNair did. I don’t have to tell you we don�
�t need to make it public knowledge.”
“No,” said Diane, “you don’t. But a lot of people know about it. Are you sure some of his own people won’t make it public? Are all of them satisfied with his stewardship of his position?”
“Look, I know this is a mess and I know the commissioner behaved like a . . .”
“Titty baby,” supplied Jin. “Wimp, weenie, chicken, sellout . . .”
Garnett looked over at him and grimaced. “I suppose that’s several ways to put it.” He took another sip of coffee. “However, I also had another reason for coming over. We managed to get those two guys with the baseball bats to talk.”
Chapter 20
“You know who they are?” asked Diane. “Who? What was it about? Not the museum, I hope.”
“No. It was about you.”
“Me?” Diane received that news with mixed relief. She certainly didn’t want thugs targeting patrons of the museum, but neither did she like being a target herself. “Why?” she asked.
“The two work for the Stanton Construction Company. Patrice Stanton hired them.”
“The little carjacker’s mother?” said Jin. “She hired hit men? God, what a family.”
“I suppose I don’t need to ask why,” said Diane.
“No. She is really pissed at you for having her arrested and for accusing her son of trying to hijack your car. The men said she offered them a bonus if you had to have your jaw wired shut.”
Diane winced. So did her staff. David rubbed his jaw.
“She’s a mean woman,” said Garnett. Her jailers were about ready to pay her bail just so they wouldn’t be around her anymore before her husband came and got her. I just wanted to warn you. I don’t think you’ve heard the last of her. She’s the type of woman who won’t let go.”
“That’s comforting,” said Diane. “Any suggestions?”
“None legal,” said Garnett.
Diane gave him a rueful smile. She could ask security to walk her to her car every evening, but when she got home she’d just have to make a run for it. Damn those crazy people.
“How bad is this problem with the councilman . . . who did you say? Albin Adler? McNair’s uncle.” asked Diane. She probably ought to pay more attention to local politics but she found them petty and a waste of time and energy.
“No one thing he’s done is too bad. It’s just that he keeps coming up with new jabs. He’ll accuse you of beating your wife, then announce to the newspapers that he’s going to question you about allegations that you beat your wife. He’s a dirty fighter. He knows that rumor and gossip are more powerful than the truth.”
“You have friends in the media,” said Diane.
“That’s no help,” said David. “You know the media these days. They don’t do their own work, and for them it’s the sensational story they want, not the truth.”
Jin grinned at him. “Spoken like a true paranoid skeptic.”
“He’s not far from right,” said Garnett.
“See,” said David.
“So, McNair found out you beat your wife. What else has he dug up?” said Diane, smiling at Garnett.
“That’s not funny. McNair’s dug up dirt on who has marks on their record, who’s ever been investigated by internal affairs, who owes money—that kind of thing. Rachel and I recently bought a tiny cabin on Lake Lanier and suddenly I’m hearing whispers about where I got the money for a second house. McNair should talk. He just bought a boat, and someone said he’s putting in a pool in his backyard. Councilman Adler hasn’t said anything about that.”
“I’m sorry all that is going on,” said Diane. “I’m particular sorry it’s threatened the evidence in the meth lab explosion case.”
“Where does McNair get the money?” asked David.
“His wife comes from money,” said Garnett. He rose to leave. “I just wanted to warn you to watch your back,” said Garnett. “Mrs. Stanton’s gunning for you. We picked her up on this latest, but she’s made bail again.”
“It sounds like her two hired hands are the ones who need to worry,” said Diane.
“I’m sure they are worried. By the way, the judge who allowed bail for Mrs. Stanton both times for attacking you is a friend of McNair and Adler.”
“So, not much hope of getting a restraining order against Mrs. Stanton from him. I guess I need to hire a bodyguard,” said Diane.
“It wouldn’t hurt,” said Garnett.
Diane was kidding, but he sounded serious. She watched him as he walked out of the crime lab. He left through the museum entrance. He was probably going to look at some of the exhibits on the way out, she thought. He often did that. Perhaps, like her, he’d discovered peace in looking at beautiful and interesting things.
“So, Diane, do you need to hole up in your vault so no one can get at you?” said David.
“I am beginning to feel under siege.” She stood. “I’ll be in the osteology lab with the meth lab bones. Jin, we need all the DNA samples collected and sent to the GBI lab as soon as possible.”
“Sure.” He jumped out of his chair, ready to follow her to her lab.
“David, just don’t let anyone kill anybody until all this about the explosion is over,” said Diane.
“I’ll take out an ad.”
“Neva, you said you processed my car? Put a copy of the report on my desk, please.”
“Your lab office desk?”
Diane nodded. She doubted that there would be anything of use other than Blake’s blood, but there might be some bit of trace evidence that would help. She and Jin went back to her lab. He gathered up the bones that were ready to sample and took them back to his glassed-in lab to process.
Diane opened several boxes of bones that were collected in adjacent grid units and laid them out on the table to see if she could make any matches. Most were skull fragments, probably belonging to the bodies that had already been processed by the MEs. She moved her sandbox to the table and began piecing bones together, wondering if any of the bones she touched belonged to Izzy Wallace’s son.
By the end of the day, she had parts of three skulls glued together and had matched several long bones that articulated together. In two of the partial skulls she had enough of the maxilla to compare with dental x-rays. She boxed them up and took them down one floor and over to the east wing to use the x-ray machine in the conservation lab. The x-rays didn’t take long.
Back in her lab she compared the film she took with the dental x-rays of possible victims. The first one she looked at was Daniel Wallace. It was a match. She felt heartsick. Even though she was fairly sure, based on the broken wrist bones, that Daniel Wallace was among the victims, she realized she had been holding a glimmer of hope that he had just run off and didn’t tell his parents. It’s a horrible thing when the best hope for your child is that he ran away. Diane wrote her reports and faxed them to the police unit in charge of coordinating the identifications.
Diane went into her office and sat down behind her desk. On it lay the report Neva had made after processing her car. She picked it up and started to thumb through it, then set it back down. She was tired of forensics for the day. She turned out the light and went home.
She sat in her car and looked at the front of her apartment building for several minutes. She scanned the street for cars she didn’t recognize. None. She walked down the sidewalk and up the steps. They were clean of snow and ice, but all the ground around was covered in about a foot of the white stuff. It was still sparkling white and pretty. She was almost to the door when someone stepped out and put a hand on her arm. She jumped back, ready to fight.
“Dr. Fallon, I’m sorry.”
It was Shawn Keith, her neighbor in the basement apartment. He was wrapped up in a brown sweater and muffler and was shivering.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I saw you drive up and I was waiting for you to come in. I wanted to apologize. I . . . you see . . . I had my mother with me.”
Diane stared at him a moment. What is he tal
king about? Then she realized—the carjacking, Blake Stanton.
“You mean that kid trying to take your car?”
He nodded. “I saw him walking to your car when I took off.”
“It’s all right, Professor Keith. You did the right thing. You called the police. They came and everything was fine.”
“I’ve been worried about it ever since it happened. I should have . . .”
“Done just what you did,” said Diane. “Really, you did the right thing.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” he said.
“It’s true. It looks like you need to get inside. You’re turning blue.”
“It is freezing out here. Thanks, Dr. Fallon.” He nodded his head up and down. “Thanks.”
Diane climbed the stairs to her apartment and unlocked the door, glad to be home. Just as she walked in, her telephone rang.
“Don’t let it be a murder,” she said to herself as she grabbed the phone and dropped to the couch.
“Diane, it’s Frank.”
Diane grinned to herself. She’d take Frank over a murder any day.
“Hello, Frank. It’s good to hear your voice. How are you?”
“I’m OK. I heard about Izzy Wallace’s son. I know Daniel. Is it true?”
“Yes. I’m afraid it is. I matched his dental records this evening. That, with the x-ray of his wrist, cinches it. But the family hasn’t been officially notified.”
Frank was silent a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve been so grateful for finding Star. . . .”
“I know. I’ve had those same emotions. How is Star? How did her test go?”
“She said she thought she did well. She thinks she’s going to make above a three-point this semester.”
“Wow, good for her. When can I see you?” Diane hadn’t meant to say that. She was just feeling very lonely.
“How about tomorrow night?”
“I’d like that.”
“You sound beat.”
“It’s just all the bodies from the explosion and everything that goes along with it. I’m having problems at the museum. Someone is stealing some of our rare items.”
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