‘‘I thought we got some real flipped through the
clear images,’’ said Jonas, turning from the mummy. ‘‘Notice that the brain is removed. That places him in the late Middle Kingdom or after.’’ He explained to Lynn how meth ods of embalming changed over time. ‘‘See this inci sion here?’’ He pointed to a cut in the mummy’s abdomen on the left side. ‘‘It was here up through the eighteenth dynasty. After that, the incision point was from the hip to the pubic region.’’
‘‘We went into the incision and had a look around,’’ said Korey, pulling out a photo from the rest and showing Diane. ‘‘As you can see, we didn’t see much. I couldn’t find a way in and I didn’t want to do any damage. But this looks like one of the kidneys.’’
‘‘Didn’t they remove the organs?’’ asked Lynn.
‘‘Yes,’’ said Korey, ‘‘except the kidneys. I’m not sure why.’’
‘‘One of the interesting things,’’ said Jonas, ‘‘is the position of the hands.’’
‘‘Position of the hands?’’ repeated Lynn. She placed one of hers on Jonas’ arm and gave him her full attention.
Diane could see that he was falling under her spell just as the sheriff and Garnett had—though she had to admit, she thought the bloom was off the rose with Garnett.
‘‘From his bones, it appears he may have been a scribe or some worker who had to sit for hours hunched over his work. However, his hands are in the royal position.’’ Jonas crossed his hands over his chest. ‘‘Rather than by his side, or crossed in a lower position.’’
‘‘Royal position. Why, I’m glad to know that, Jonas. I’m going to put that in my will. When I die and they put me in the casket, it’s going to be in the royal position.’’ She crossed her hands over her chest. ‘‘I know a lot of people who won’t be sur prised by that.’’
Diane had to force herself to attend to Korey, Jonas and Lynn’s conversation. She watched them, feeling guilty—they were so excited, and all she could think of was Kacie Beck. She should have asked Kacie about the ring. She should have probed deeper about Chris Edwards and why he was murdered. Kacie had known something, and Diane had just dropped her off at her apartment. What was she missing?
‘‘Diane.’’ Jonas’ voice penetrated her thoughts. ‘‘What do you think?’’
Diane hesitated a second, recalling the conversation that had managed to filter through her own thoughts. ‘‘I don’t . . .’’ She saw Kendel coming through the doorway. ‘‘Here she is. We don’t have to guess—let’s ask her if she was able to acquire the artifacts.’’
Kendel waved to them as she walked down the hallway. Her hair was twisted up in a clip. She wore white capri pants, a sleeveless turquoise shirt and tan leather wedge slides on her feet. Kendel had the ability to look dressed up in the most casual of clothes.
‘‘You’re back,’’ said Jonas. ‘‘That was quick. How did it go?’’ He had the beginnings of a frown, as if a quick return might have meant failure.
‘‘I got back an hour ago.’’ Kendel grinned. ‘‘We are now the owner of a collection of twelfth-dynasty amu lets that is most likely from our mummy’s wrappings.’’
‘‘You did it. Good for you, girl,’’ said Jonas. His face broke into a broad smile.
‘‘Well done,’’ said Diane. ‘‘How much did it cost us?’’
‘‘I came in way under budget. People still want im mortality. The collection will be called the Robert Lyon Rider Collection.’’ She made a frame in the air with her hands. ‘‘We’ll have a wonderful gold plaque labeling the room and the collection.’’
‘‘Good job. You said they are twelfth dynasty? The amulets support that date for our mummy, then?’’ said Diane.
‘‘Yes. I was very happy when I saw them. There’s a couple of lovely scarabs, a beautiful collection of carved fish, several figurines. I’m still establishing a paper trail to our mummy, but it’s looking good. The Riders had wills describing the artifacts and even a letter that described the unwrapping party, with’’—Kendel paused dramatically before she spoke again—‘‘a mention of our Victorian pickle jar.’’
Jonas rubbed his hands together. ‘‘That’s just great. More than I expected.’’
‘‘Well done, Kendel,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Very well done.’’
‘‘I was thinking on the way back that we should concentrate just on the twelfth dynasty in the exhibit—something like Everyday Life in TwelfthDynasty Egypt.’’
‘‘Good idea,’’ said Diane. ‘‘That tight focus is a good way to make the most of the handful of items we have. I’d like to see a time line that shows what was going on in other parts of the world during that same period. Set up a meeting with the exhibit plan ners and we’ll start on it. It would be good if we can make the opening dovetail with a fund-raiser.’’
‘‘Do you want me to put feelers out for other acqui sitions?’’ asked Kendel.
‘‘Let me look at the budget. It might be better to use the resources to do a fine exhibit with what we have. We can always branch out later.’’
Diane introduced Kendel to Lynn, who stood be tween Jonas and Korey, observing Diane’s assistant director.
‘‘Good to meet you. Love your shoes,’’ said Lynn. ‘‘Gucci?’’
‘‘Michael Kors,’’ said Kendel, holding out her hand to Lynn.
A technician came out to the corridor. ‘‘We’re ready for our patient.’’
He took the gurney into the imaging room and di rected them into the viewing room where several staff from the hospital had assembled to watch. The mummy was a celebrity. Someone had even called the newspaper. A reporter, a young woman who looked like she might still be a journalism student and an equally young photographer hurried through the door just behind Diane and her staff.
‘‘Thanks for asking me,’’ said Lynn. ‘‘This is a nice thing to come back to after burying Raymond.’’
‘‘I’m happy to have you look at the scan and offer any ideas on what you see.’’
The viewing room was actually too small for the crowd gathered there. It was already getting hot, but no one but Diane seemed to notice. When they were all settled, Jonas repeated the story of the mummy to the reporter and the crowd of technicians, nurses and doctors. Diane imagined that he must have been a great lecturer. He took all the bits and pieces of infor mation they had discovered so far and wove a fascinat ing story. As he spoke, Diane watched the technicians lift the mummy from the gurney onto the CT platform. The photographer snapped pictures as the mummy started his journey into the circle.
‘‘Chevron one encoded,’’ said the technician at the viewing screen. A few of the onlookers laughed, some rolled their eyes, most looked puzzled.
‘‘You’re a Stargate fan,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Ya, sure, ya betcha,’’ he quoted from the TV series.
‘‘Me too,’’ said Diane.
The mummy moved back and forth through the CT ring, and images of the skull cavity began appearing on the monitor.
‘‘Look at that.’’
‘‘Amazing.’’
‘‘That had to hurt.’’
Everyone commented at once when the upper jaw and its abscesses were revealed.
‘‘You’re right,’’ said Lynn. ‘‘That must have been what killed him.’’
‘‘Why didn’t they just pull the teeth?’’ asked one of the doctors.
‘‘I don’t know,’’ answered Jonas. ‘‘They had den tistry methods, but they rarely did extractions.’’
A cell phone rang and three-quarters of those pres ent turned at once, searching for the offender.
‘‘You are supposed to turn those off in the hospi tal,’’ said a nurse. ‘‘They interfere with the equip ment.’’ She had zeroed in on the culprit, the journalist.
The young woman smiled and shrugged. ‘‘It won’t be but a minute.’’
‘‘Now!’’ said the nurse.
But the young woman wasn’t listening.
She had crumpled to her knees in tears.
Chapter 32
Diane was the first to her side. She put an arm around the sobbing girl and took the phone out of her hand. She read the text message before she turned off the power.
OH GOD, WHERE R U? KACIE MURDERED! AMY
‘‘I’ll take care of her,’’ said Diane, pulling the woman to her feet and helping her out the door. The photographer started to put down his camera and leave with her. Diane turned to him. ‘‘You stay and finish.’’
He stopped in his tracks. ‘‘Oh, okay, sure.’’ Diane took her to the nearest lounge and sat her down in a chair. She found a paper-cup dispenser and got her a drink of water.
‘‘What’s your name?’’ Diane asked, after the woman took a drink.
‘‘Madison. Madison Foster.’’
Madison had blond hair arranged back in a single braid. She pulled at her short khaki skirt as she talked. Her white tee-shirt had a drop of blood on it.
‘‘Your nose is bleeding.’’ Diane dug in her purse for a tissue. ‘‘Put your head back and pinch your nose.’’
‘‘I’ve always gotten nosebleeds. It happens when I cry.’’ She put the tissue to her nose and put her head back.
‘‘Do I need to get a nurse?’’
‘‘No. This happens a lot. It’ll go away soon.’’
Diane gave her several moments before she said anything. When the bleeding seemed to have stopped, she spoke to her in a low, calm voice.
‘‘Madison, are you a student?’’
‘‘Yes. A journalism student at Bartram.’’
‘‘You knew Kacie Beck?’’ asked Diane.
Madison looked at her for a long moment. ‘‘You read the message?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘Kacie was my best friend.’’ She took a deep breath and seemed to collect herself. ‘‘I need to call Amy. Maybe she’s playing some kind of trick. She has an odd sense of humor sometimes.’’
‘‘No, Madison, it’s not a trick.’’
Madison’s brow puckered into deep furrows as she looked at Diane. Wondering, no doubt, how Diane could possibly know.
‘‘I’m head of the crime lab for Rosewood.’’
‘‘Oh, I think I knew that.’’
‘‘My team is over at her apartment now.’’
‘‘Oh, God, it’s true.’’ She started sobbing again.
Diane handed her another tissue, went to the bath room and came back with wet paper towels. Madison wiped her face with the towels and took a deep breath.
‘‘I don’t believe this. Who would want to kill her? Right after her fiance´, Chris. And them arresting her. Oh, God. Why did this happen?’’
‘‘Madison. I would like to ask you some questions. It will help us find out who did this.’’
Madison nodded.
‘‘How well did you know Kacie?’’
‘‘We grew up together in Columbus, Georgia. We came to school here together.’’
‘‘Did you know Chris Edwards?’’
‘‘We met him up here.’’
‘‘Kacie had on a ring.’’
‘‘I saw it right after he gave it to her. She was really proud and couldn’t wait to show it to her family. They didn’t like Chris very much.’’
‘‘Why?’’
Madison shrugged. She dabbed her nose with a wet towel. ‘‘It’s not bleeding again, is it?’’
‘‘No.’’
‘‘Her father’s a doctor. They wanted her to marry a doctor. Her parents are real snobs. They’re nice, but snobs.’’
‘‘Do you know if it was a real diamond?’’
Madison looked at her wide-eyed. ‘‘Why wouldn’t it be?’’
‘‘Diamonds are expensive. Do you know how Chris was able to buy it?’’
‘‘I just assumed he put it on his card.’’
Madison wasn’t being much help. Diane thought perhaps she wasn’t asking the right questions. She should have just passed her along to Garnett, but she really didn’t think he would fare much better.
‘‘Did Chris have a second job?’’
‘‘Besides his forestry job? I don’t think so. He was working hard on his thesis and his job—and seeing Kacie. He didn’t have time for much else.’’
‘‘What did you think of Chris? Did you think he was good enough for Kacie?’’
‘‘Oh yeah. He was a great guy. Sweet. Good sense of humor. He wasn’t self-centered like most guys.’’
‘‘Do you know his friend, Steven Mayberry?’’
‘‘Steve. Yeah, sure. A little. We’ve gone out a cou ple of times.’’
‘‘What is he like?’’
‘‘Not like Chris. He talks about himself a lot. Has big plans for getting a job in his uncle’s paper com pany. He always talks like he has a lot of money, but I don’t think he does. At least he never spent any on me. We ate out mostly at fast food places.’’
‘‘Who are Chris and Kacie’s other friends?’’
Madison shrugged. ‘‘I don’t know, really. The guys in their department, I suppose.’’
‘‘Do you know if they had any friends who are missing?’’
‘‘Missing? What do you mean? Like Steven, you mean?’’
Diane had made smaller copies of Neva’s drawings to carry in her purse. She pulled them out and showed them to Madison.
‘‘Do you know any of these people?’’
Madison looked carefully at each one. ‘‘They don’t look familiar. Who are they?’’
‘‘Have you heard from Steven lately?’’
‘‘Not for about a week—since he’s been missing. What’s all this about?’’
She looked at Diane with large, liquid brown eyes— she wanted answers, Diane could see. She needed some meaning to all this. Diane needed meaning too.
‘‘When was the last time you spoke with Steven?’’
‘‘Spoke with him? Not for a long time. He left a message on my voice mail about a week ago. He wanted to go out, said something about having a ship come in. I have no idea what he meant. I didn’t call back. I really don’t like him very much.’’
Ship come in. That was the first sign that anything was going on. She was surprised at the sense of relief she felt. Finally, something.
‘‘Did Chris or Kacie mention anything about what he might have meant?’’
‘‘I didn’t tell them. It was just a voice message. It didn’t really mean anything.’’
‘‘Did you get a sense that Chris was about to come into some money?’’
‘‘Well, he got the ring—but then, I just thought he charged it.’’
‘‘He’d need one big credit limit.’’
‘‘When you’re a student, that’s pretty easy. They send you cards in the mail by the dozens with huge limits. My dad’s an accountant, and he’s lectured me from the time I was three about owing money, so I don’t use them big time, but some people do.’’
‘‘Did Chris seem especially happy about something?’’
Her face brightened. ‘‘Yes, now that you mention it. Kacie did mention that he’d been really happy lately— almost manic. She didn’t know why—she figured he’d gotten a really good job and was going to surprise her.’’
‘‘Did any of them seem to be frightened of anything?’’
‘‘No. Just after—you know—Chris died, Kacie was a basket case, as you can imagine. She had nightmares and was taking Valium.’’
‘‘Were her nightmares about anything specific?’’
Madison looked at Diane as if she were an idiot. ‘‘She found Chris.’’
‘‘I know, but I thought her dreams might have some clue that her subconscious was trying to bring to the surface.’’
‘‘She didn’t say. It was always about finding Chris like—like that.’’
‘‘Madison, if you remember anything, however
small, give me a call.’’ Diane fished a card out of her purse and wrote on it. ‘
‘I put my cell number on here, and the number of Chief Garnett. He’s the detective in charge. Call him or me if you remember anything or need to talk.’’
Madison took the card, turned it over and looked at the numbers. She nodded. ‘‘I will, I promise.’’
Her tears had dried and her nose had stopped bleeding, but Madison looked profoundly sad. Diane wanted to say something that would help, but she felt completely helpless in the face of grief. She should know a lot about grief, and she did, but she didn’t know how to make it go away.
‘‘Do you have someone to stay with?’’
‘‘I think I’ll go home—to Columbus. Jerry, the cameraman, will drive me. He’s been after me for a date. I guess I’ll see what kind of stuff he’s made of.’’
They were almost finished with the CT scan when she returned. The image on the monitor was of the abdominal cavity.
‘‘We’re thinking he had a tumor on his kidney,’’ said Lynn. She pointed to the screen. ‘‘You know, if we could just get a piece of that tissue.’’
‘‘I can try again with the endoscope, now that I know where to look,’’ said Korey.
‘‘We’ll have you a great three-D image of your guy,’’ said one of the doctors. ‘‘You going to do one of those facial reconstructions?’’
‘‘Yes,’’ said Diane. ‘‘It’ll be a lot of fun to know what the guy looked like.’’
‘‘Well, we are happy to be of help. Interesting case.’’
Before she left, Diane thanked the hospital person nel for their help. She thanked Lynn and asked her if she had time, if she’d like to write a report. Diane had a couple of motives. One, she genuinely wanted her expert input. She also wanted to pat down her ruffled feathers. As long as Lynn stayed at her job, Diane would have to work with her. If she could build up some good interactions, when the inevitable dis agreement came about time of death, or whatever else that ticked off Lynn, they’d at least have established a good rapport.
Diane went from the hospital to Kacie Beck’s apart ment. Garnett was there, along with David and Neva. The body had been removed. We probably passed somewhere along the way, she thought.
Kacie had a small one-bedroom apartment close to campus. Diane had seen it from the outside, but hadn’t gone inside. Perhaps she should have. Was someone waiting for Kacie in the dark? The thought sickened her.
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