The Night Killer Part 6

Frank leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. He took a breath, sighing. "Well, that changes things," he said.

However much Frank was a stickler for procedure, he was loyal to her, to family. One of the things she loved him for. He might disagree with her, argue with her, but she could always count on him to be on her side, to have her back.

"Gee, boss," said Jin, "you don't think that hillbilly sheriff will target you as a suspect?" Jin's dark eyes showed his alarm. He sat there in his jeans and glittering double-helix T-s.h.i.+rt with an unaccustomed look of worry on his normally happy face.

"I don't know. I do know I'm going to have a hard time with Sheriff Conrad, no matter what evidence I've collected. That's unavoidable. I discovered the bodies. That is going to be on his mind, right up there with the mysterious stranger. I have to tell you, I don't trust his judgment, and I need all the information on the case I can get," said Diane.

Diane rose from the chair with more weariness than she had realized she had. "Thanks for coming, guys. I'm really sorry to have dragged you out, and I'm sorry to have worried you. I'd like to go home now and go to bed-and hopefully not dream."

"You want me to process the SUV?" asked David.

"Yes." Diane put her hands to her face and dropped them. "d.a.m.n, I almost forgot. . . . My brain is only half working. I also collected a sample of the tree that fell across my hood, and some concrete from inside it where the tree was repaired at some time in the past." She turned to Jin. "I'd like you to look for residue that would indicate that a body decomposed inside the hollow tree. I think that's where the skeleton may have come from. Deputy Conrad said he couldn't do anything without a body, so I need to find him a body."

"I'll do it, boss," said Jin.

Diane collected her clothes and soggy shoes from the bathroom and started to leave, but David held out his hand.

"I'll need to process your clothes," he said.

Izzy, Jin, and Hector looked at David, surprised, as if, in just the s.p.a.ce of a few moments, he had formed a mistrust, a suspicion of Diane. They turned and looked at her, questions evident in their eyes.

"Good idea," she said, handing the clothing to David, who retrieved an evidence bag to contain the items.

"If the sheriff tries to accuse you, we'll be able to counter with an official examination report clearing your clothes of any trace evidence," said David. "I'll get a detective from the department to witness the process. Hanks has asked several times if he could come watch us work."

Good, paranoid David, thought Diane. She didn't know what she would do without him.

"What if there was blood on the underside of the poncho?" said Hector. "She will have blood on her clothes."

"Then we'll match the pattern," said David. "We'll prove it was transfer."

Diane slept late. When she awoke she found a note on her pillow from Frank saying he was sorry but he had to go in to work. Also, that he had mixed her another protein drink before he left and put it in the refrigerator. And he had arranged for the museum staff to bring her vehicle and park it in the driveway. She smiled and put the note down on the dresser. Frank thinks of everything Frank thinks of everything , she thought. She had completely forgotten that her red Explorer was at the museum. , she thought. She had completely forgotten that her red Explorer was at the museum.

Diane took a long shower, dressed, and downed the drink that Frank had mixed. He had blended in fresh strawberries. Yes, Frank thinks of everything. Yes, Frank thinks of everything.

Before she left for work, she called Laura Hillard, one of her oldest friends. They had known each other since kindergarten. Diane was originally from Rosewood. At twelve, her family moved to Tennessee. When Diane accepted the job as director of the museum, after a career as a forensic anthropologist and human rights investigator, the move to Rosewood was a return to her roots, and to old friends.

Diane asked Laura if she could come have a late lunch at the museum. Laura was a member of the museum board and she was also a psychiatrist, and it was in that capacity that Diane wanted to consult with her.

Andie Layne, Diane's a.s.sistant, was behind her desk when Diane walked in. Diane hadn't been gone from the museum even an entire workday, yet it felt like she had been gone a week. She wanted to tell Andie that she was glad to see her again after all this time. Instead, she smiled and said, "I like your new style. Very sophisticated."

Andie had her tight red curls in an up style with a generous amount of cascading curls around her face. She wore a tailored, black-trimmed red suit, an unusual choice for her. She usually wore a more offbeat style of clothing.

Andie stood up and turned around, giving Diane a three-sixty view of the cinch-waist jacket and straight skirt.

"I like it too. I thought I'd add 'sophisticated' to my fas.h.i.+on repertoire. Keep people off guard a little." She grinned. "Frank called me and said you'd be in late. He didn't say why."

She stood looking at Diane expectantly. Diane could see she was curious. Frank didn't usually make calls for her. Diane hated to put a damper on her mood.

"I had some problems coming back from Rendell County," she said.

h.e.l.l, she might as well tell her. Andie would find out eventually, and Diane would feel bad about keeping her in the dark. Andie was her gatekeeper, and Diane had discovered a long time ago it was a good idea to keep gatekeepers informed. She gave Andie a very brief description of what happened. Even in brevity, it was shocking. Andie stood, wide-eyed, and slowly sat down.

"Oh, oh. That's . . . that's just awful. Those poor people. Are you all right? A skeleton on your car?" Andie seemed not to know quite what to comment on first.

"I'm fine. I'll be working on the museum side today. Laura's coming for a late lunch. Please send her in when she gets here," said Diane.

"Sure. Can I get you anything?"

"Just hold all calls that aren't urgent," she said.

Diane would have just put her a.s.sistant director, Kendel, in charge for a couple of days while she dealt with the fallout of the previous day. But Kendel was in Africa with Mike, the geology curator, acquiring fossils. They weren't due back for several days. Diane was even shorthanded in the crime lab. Neva, a several-generations Georgia girl, and one of Diane's criminalists, told Diane she had never been out of the country. So she'd given Neva time off to go with Mike, who was Neva's boyfriend. Diane hoped they were all having a good time.

Diane's office suite was connected to Andie's office. She went through the adjoining door and sat down at her desk. After attending to a few letters, she ordered lunch from the museum restaurant and asked that it be sent to her office. Turkey sandwiches and fruit salads arrived at the same time as Laura.

Laura wore a pale blue pantsuit that looked good on her slim frame. Her blond hair was in its usual smooth French twist. Diane always admired Laura's grace. Diane had a hard time with grace.

"You look great," said Diane.

"Thanks. I appreciate lunch. This is nice." They sat down at the large table and ate, talking only small talk. When they finished, Diane got up and set the dishes on the counter next to the sink.

"So," said Laura, going to the couch, sitting down, and folding her arms. "What is it you want to talk about?"

Diane sighed and sat down in the chair she was in earlier that morning. "First, I need to tell you about my experience last evening," she said.

Diane related the story in much the same way she had to her crime lab crew and to Frank-complete and detailed. Normally, Laura listened with an interested but unemotional expression on her face. But this was not a story that lent itself to nonexpression. Laura looked much like the others had-jaw dropping, eyes wide.

"Diane, for heaven's sake, are you all right?" she said, when Diane's lengthy narrative was over.

"I asked you here to discuss just that." Diane took a deep breath. "Laura, I was terrified to the point of nausea the whole time."

Laura frowned. "Diane, only you would find that abnormal. If it were me the guy had grabbed, I'd be in his bas.e.m.e.nt chained to the wall, or whatever he had planned. Or if I managed to get away and make it to the woods, I'd be lost in some thicket, whimpering like a child. And if I'd managed to make it out of the woods and through some miracle located the Barres' house and found them with their throats slashed, you would have found me on the floor in a fetal position babbling nonsense, and I'd be committed to an inst.i.tution for the next year. You don't have a problem."

"Seriously, Laura. I've been in bad situations many times. I've never before experienced that level of fright. I was almost immobilized at times."

"But you got away. Even gave the son of a b.i.t.c.h a black eye. You got through the woods. You made a friend along the way. And you kept your presence of mind at the Barres'. I reiterate: You don't have a problem." She held up a hand when Diane started to speak again. "But if you want my opinion, I'll tell you what I think."

"Please."

"I think you are happy," she said.

"What?" Diane expected more.

"After Ariel was killed, your psyche felt that nothing worse could happen, and it responded with this fearlessness that you've possessed. But now, with this job you've become comfortable in, your friends, Frank, Star, you have become happy, and it scares you. Now you have something to lose again. You responded by being afraid. It's normal. And in addition, you think you don't deserve to be happy, because of what happened in South America."

"I don't deserve to be happy? That's a little Psych 101, isn't it?"

"It's called 101 because it's basic. That's what you are feeling," said Laura.

"Okay, say I buy that. What can I do about it? I don't want to ever feel afraid like that again," said Diane.

Laura took a deep breath, changed her position on the couch, and looked back at Diane. "First, you can acknowledge that just because you lost Ariel, it in no way implies that you will lose what you have now."

"Is there a 'second'? I need something more concrete. I can't acknowledge feelings that I didn't know I have," said Diane.

"You can find out who the skeleton belongs to and who killed the Barres. Slaying dragons is always a good way to get your mojo back," said Laura.

Diane thought for a moment. "Okay, that's more practical."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Diane, you are really the limit sometimes."

Laura was about to say more when Andie knocked on the door and slipped in.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Fallon, but there's this man in my office who insists on speaking with you. He said his name is Sheriff Leland Conrad."

Chapter 13

"Talk about slaying dragons," said Diane.

Laura rose. "I'll go out your rear door and leave you to it," she said. As she glided out the door she said, "Have fun. Off with his head."

"I'll see him in my office," Diane told Andie, straightening her clothes and running her fingers through her hair.

"I need to go to archives," said Andie, "but I'll stay if you want."

Diane smiled at her. "I'll be fine."

"He's not going to arrest you or anything, is he?" asked Andie. "I mean, you just found the bodies."

"It will be all right," insisted Diane. "Go to your meeting. This is the meeting with the collection managers, right?"

Andie nodded. Diane had been giving Andie more responsibilities because she had asked for them. Andie was in charge of a webcam project they were starting up for the schools, and she also met with the collection managers. She had been doing quite well and Diane was proud of her.

Diane walked into her office with Andie, closing the door to her meeting room behind her. She sat down behind her desk before she asked Andie to bring Sheriff Conrad in.

Andie opened the door and introduced Diane's guest, Sheriff Leland Conrad. Diane had heard about Sheriff Conrad, but had never met him. His son looked nothing like him. The sheriff had a large, square, stern face with permanent frown lines on either side of his small mouth. He had smooth skin pulled tight, almond eyes, and high, rounded cheekbones. He had a small nose and deep nasal folds. His thick brown hair was reminiscent of the fifties hairstyles in men. He wore his brown sheriff's uniform, which looked like it had been starched. Leland Conrad was a tall, barrel-chested man who looked as if he liked to scare people into a confession. Diane found his whole demeanor to be off-putting, but it may have been simply that she didn't like the things she had heard about him. He didn't look like a happy man; nor did he look like he thought he ought to be happy.

"Afternoon, Miss Fallon. I usually ask people I interview to come to my office. Most people find that intimidating, but I reckoned that you wouldn't, being in the business yourself, so to speak."

Diane raised her eyebrows. So, he was interviewing a suspect. Best not to show any fear Best not to show any fear, she thought.

"No, I wouldn't," she said. "I used to work in human rights investigations in South America. You'd be hard-pressed to be more intimidating than some of the people I had to deal with down there." Although Slick gave it a good go Although Slick gave it a good go, she thought. And you're not doing too bad a job, just walking in here. And you're not doing too bad a job, just walking in here.

"That so? Interesting."

"Please sit down, Sheriff," she said.

He'd wandered over to the photograph of her dangling at the end of a rope, rappelling into a cave.

"I like to get a look at where a person works. Tells me a thing or two about what makes them tick. What's this photograph?"

"It's of me. I'm rappelling into a cave that has a vertical entrance," she said.

"Entering a cave. That right? Looks dangerous," he said.

"Not if you know what you're doing. It's really very relaxing. Strenuous, but relaxing."

"That what you do to relax?"

It was more of a comment than a question. Diane was used to people thinking that caving was anything but relaxing.

"Yes," she said.

"Interesting," he said. "Don't look too relaxing to me."

Diane wondered what a.s.sessments he had made of her so far. He moved to the other side of the office and looked at her Escher prints: a castle with an endless ascending and descending staircase, an impossible self-filling waterfall, and a tessellation of angels and devils. It was the angels and devils he stared at.

"You religious?" he said.

"Depends on what you mean by it," she said.

"Simple question."

"I believe in G.o.d," she said. "I sometimes go to church. When I do, I go to the Presbyterian or First Baptist, because I know and like the people who go there. I consider religion personal and private."

"Humm . . ." was all he said.

Diane saw that he was trying to get to know her, trying to place her in perspective in his own worldview. Religion was important to him.

"What does this mean?" he said, pointing to the angels and devils drawn in such a pattern that there were no overlaps of the individual angels and devils; nor were there any voids between them.

"I suppose it means something different to whoever looks at it. For me, it's like the work I do in forensics. It could be seen as the endless struggle between good and evil. It's also an interesting interlocking pattern."

"It's either an angel or a demon. I like it."

The way he said it left Diane with the impression that he was surprised that he could like a piece of art. It didn't surprise her, however. He probably believed deep in his soul that there was a clear delineation between good and evil, and no overlapping or voids in between.