Dead Past (37 page)
Authors: Beverly Connor
She looked at her watch. Shortly, the night lighting would come on. Andie was probably already gone. She waved at the guard at the information desk and went to her office.
Korey really did a good job,
she thought as she moved open the door to the safe. After that, everything went black.
she thought as she moved open the door to the safe. After that, everything went black.
Chapter 46
“Dr. Fallon! Are you all right?”
Who is that talking?
Diane was confused and had a pounding headache—and she was on the floor. But someone was helping her to a chair. She sat down and put her head in her hands for a moment, then looked up.
Diane was confused and had a pounding headache—and she was on the floor. But someone was helping her to a chair. She sat down and put her head in her hands for a moment, then looked up.
Clarice, one of the night cleaning crew, her long hair in a high ponytail, wearing jeans and a museum sweatshirt, was standing over her with a look of fear on her face.
“You need to go to the emergency room, Dr. Fallon. Your head’s bleeding.”
“Bleeding?” Diane touched the back of her head. It was wet.
What is going on?
What is going on?
“Diane?”
The new voice sounded like David.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I just found her on the floor like this,” said Clarice.
“I need to take you to the hospital,” said David.
What I need,
thought Diane,
is to just sit right here until I feel better.
thought Diane,
is to just sit right here until I feel better.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“No, you’re not,” said David. “I’ll go get the car. Clarice will walk you to the door.”
“What happened?” asked Diane.
“It looks like someone attacked you,” said Clarice. “Here in your office.”
“Don’t clean her office,” said David as he hurried out the door.
Clarice helped Diane toward her door. They were met by a security guard who took Diane’s arm and assisted her the rest of the way.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Fallon. Chanell is going to rip us a new one,” he said. “She’s on her way down here to try and find out how this could have happened—twice. I’m really sorry. We didn’t see anyone.”
“What?” said Diane.
“I was saying that I don’t know how this could have happened,” he repeated.
“Check to see what classes are meeting tonight. Someone could have come and gone with a group that is meeting here,” said Diane.
David appeared and escorted her to his car and helped her in.
“You can take me home,” said Diane.
“No. We are going to the hospital,” he said as he buckled himself in. “What was the last thing you remember?”
Diane thought a moment. Her head seemed to be clearing some. “I saw Korey. He gave me the forgery.”
“You’ve lost me already,” said David. “What forgery?”
“The code. Didn’t I tell you about the code?”
“The one in the doll?” asked David.
“Yes. I asked Korey to duplicate it for me, make it look just like the original, but scramble the letters so they don’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t make sense now. None of this does. When did we make this giant left turn? You said this was about the Cipriano case and lost treasure.”
“David, you know, I don’t feel like explaining it all now. How about in the morning? I’ll get everyone up to speed. Before I forget, I stashed Juliet Price and her grandmother, Ruby Torkel, in a hotel. Museum Security is in an adjoining room, though I’m kind of losing faith in my security of late.”
He drove to the same hospital that stitched up Jin when he was hit on the head. They took Diane immediately and examined her. The doctor looked at her pupils, tested her reflexes, and tended to her head wound, giving her five stitches.
She had the same doctor that Jin had. To Diane he didn’t look old enough to be a doctor. He had one of those baby faces that would probably carry him well into his sixties still looking like a kid.
“Is there an epidemic?” he said when he finished stitching her up.
“Possibly,” she said.
“How do you feel? Headache?”
“Yes, I definitely have a headache.”
“How about dizziness? Weakness in your arms or legs?”
“No,” she answered.
“Have you vomited?”
“No.”
“Do you have any memory loss?” he asked.
“I don’t remember what happened.”
“What’s the last thing you do remember?”
Since David had asked that same question, she had had time to think. “I talked to an employee, went to my office. . . . That’s the last thing I remember.”
“Do you know how long you were unconscious?”
“No. The night lighting in the museum was already on. It comes on at nine thirty. But I don’t know how long it had been on. Actually, I have no idea how long I was out.”
“Have you noticed any irritability?” he asked.
“I’m really pissed at whoever did this.”
He smiled. “I’m going to order a CT scan. Do you know if you’re allergic to contrast dyes?”
“I’m not,” said Diane.
“I’m going to keep you overnight, just to watch you. I think you’re fine, but we need to be sure.”
“You didn’t keep Jin overnight,” she said.
“I suspect you were out longer. I’m just being cautious. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Just as long as you don’t say it’s because I’m older,” said Diane.
After the CT scan, Diane was taken to a semiprivate room. No one was in the other bed. She was glad of that. The last thing she wanted right now was a room-mate. David came in to see her.
“I’m fine,” said Diane, as he walked in the door.
“I talked to the doctor,” said David. “He said if everything looks good tonight you’ll be going home in the morning. Do you want me to call Frank?”
“I will. If you call him, he’ll worry. How was the Impala crime scene?”
“I didn’t find much. It was rocky and there weren’t any tracks. The car is pretty much a burned mess. I had it hauled to our impound, anyway. Maybe something escaped the flames. Who do you think attacked you?” said David.
Diane gave him a blank stare for a moment. “Damn. Hand me my jacket.”
He got her jacket from the tiny closet on her side of the room and handed it to her. She searched the pockets.
“It’s gone,” she said. “Did you find a glassine envelope in my office with a fragment of paper in it?”
“I haven’t been to your office. Was it valuable? Was that what Korey gave you?”
“Yes,” she answered. “It was Korey’s forgery. No, it wasn’t valuable.”
“Can he make you another one?” asked David.
“Why?” said Diane.
“To replace the one stolen, I don’t know. What was it for, anyway?” he asked.
“It was bait. I wanted whoever stole the doll to get it—just not in this way. They worked faster than I had planned.”
“What did you have planned?” said David.
“It wasn’t completely worked out yet. I was maybe going to plant a story in the paper about the doll and finding the code. I was trying to think of a way to contact them so they would know I had the message from the doll. I thought they would contact me—I really hadn’t thought it out completely.”
“I guess they did contact you,” he said.
Diane felt her head. “They did indeed.”
Diane awoke early and felt much better than she had the evening before, except that the whole back side of her scalp was painfully tender. The nurse came in and checked her temperature and blood pressure.
“Can I go home now?” she asked.
“The doctor didn’t leave instructions for you to be dismissed. He’ll be making his rounds soon,” she said.
The nurse left and a woman with a breakfast tray came in. Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice, and cereal.
Big breakfast,
she thought. As the breakfast lady left, a policeman came in. He was one of the young policemen she had seen guarding the morgue tent. He had a pen and pad in his hand and a cigarette stuck behind his ear.
Big breakfast,
she thought. As the breakfast lady left, a policeman came in. He was one of the young policemen she had seen guarding the morgue tent. He had a pen and pad in his hand and a cigarette stuck behind his ear.
“Hi, Dr. Fallon,” he said, grinning.
Diane wondered if she looked that funny sitting in a hospital bed wearing the terrible hospital gown.
“It’s good to see you again,” he said. “Though, not like this. I need to get a statement.”
He pulled up a chair and as he sat down, Diane sneaked a peak at the cigarette behind his ear.
“You really shouldn’t smoke,” she said, taking a bite of bacon. “It’s bad for you.”
Chapter 47
“I know smoking is bad, ma’am,” he said. “I quit for a long time, but with all this explosion tragedy, I started up again.”
“Do you know that none of the three medical examiners, Webber, Pilgrim, or Rankin, smoke?” said Diane. “You know why?”
He shook his head.
“Because they’ve all seen firsthand what smokers’ lungs look like,” said Diane.
“Well, I’ll probably quit again. Right now I need to take a statement,” he said.
Diane gave him a brief version of what happened to her, not going into treasure hunts, dolls, secret codes, or historic hurricanes. She’d tell Garnett, but she didn’t really want to go into the whole thing right now—especially while her mind was focused on something else.
“Did he take anything?” asked the policeman.
“I haven’t been back to my office to check my safe. I’ll notify the police if anything’s missing. Why do you carry your cigarette behind your ear?” she said, trying to bring the conversation back to the Doral held in place between his ear and his brain. He looked under twenty-six. So much for David’s statistics.
“Cause it’ll get crushed in my pocket, ma’am. I’ve been trying not to start back, so I bum cigarettes instead of buying them. That way, I have only one at a time.” He took the cigarette between his fingers and looked at it. “Actually, I prefer a Marlboro, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Who did you bum that from?” asked Diane.
“Archie Donahue,” he said.
So, perhaps David’s statistics were right after all.
“Well, I wish you luck in your efforts to stop smoking,” she said.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
He folded his pad of paper and put it in his pocket with his pen. He stuck his cigarette back behind his ear and left.
Diane finished her breakfast, pondering what she’d learned. Which was what? Archie smoked Dorals? Not much. Hardly anything. There were probably others in the department who smoked them. Certainly not an indictment. She closed her eyes to think.
What did the person who attacked Jin hit him with—butt of his gun, nightstick, rock? I should have stayed up on the ridge to look for blunt instruments. Instead, I left the policemen there to look while I took Jin to the doctor. Ample chance to move the weapon to a new location. Damn. But if the weapon was something he carries, he may have only wiped the blood off. We could still find blood and bits of Jin’s flesh. But everybody knows about blood nowadays, especially policemen. He’d have cleaned it with kerosene or bleach. We might at least be able to detect that. And that would still leave us nowhere.
“I need to get out of here,” she said out loud.
“Not until the doctor says you can go.”
She opened her eyes and looked at Frank. She had forgotten to call him.
Damn.
He pulled up a chair and sat down.
Damn.
He pulled up a chair and sat down.
“Why aren’t you at work?” she said.
“I had business in Rosewood today. It doesn’t happen often that there’s a Rosewood connection with a case I’m working on, but when it does happen, I take advantage of it. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I meant to, but I got conked on the head and forgot—really,” she said.
“David told me what happened this morning when I called the crime lab,” he said. “I’ll take you home. When are you being released?”
“As soon as I see the doctor,” said Diane.
Just as she said it, the doctor entered her room.
“Your CT scan was fine. You can go home. Get plenty of rest and sleep. We’ll give you a list of symptoms to watch for. If any of them occurs, call or come back here immediately.”
“Thanks. I’m ready to get out of here,” said Diane.
He smiled, handed her a prescription for pain pills, and went off to see other patients.
Diane got dressed and was still waiting thirty minutes later for someone to come and get her, tell her she could go, or . . . something.
“Be patient,” said Frank.
“I really don’t like hospitals,” said Diane. “And I don’t like waiting. I think I’ll start charging for my waiting time. Maybe it’ll get my bill down to some reasonable amount.”
“Isn’t irritability one of the signs you’re supposed to watch out for?” said Frank.
She was about to retort when the nurse came with the paperwork and a wheelchair. Diane signed the paperwork.
“I don’t need the wheelchair,” she said.
“Everyone leaves in a wheelchair. It’s hospital policy,” said the nurse.
“It’s not mine,” said Diane and walked out ahead of Frank and the nurse.
Frank caught up with her. “Diane, don’t you think you’d better slow down? What’s up with you?”
“I just want out of here. Do you know how much time I’ve spent in the hospital—either visiting people I care about or being a patient myself?”
“Yes, but something besides your concussion has you irritated,” he said.
“Right now, one of the suspects I have in mind for the killings of McNair and Stanton is someone I like. And I absolutely hate that. My gut reaction is to just let him go, and I don’t like that feeling, either. I’m at odds with myself and it’s damned uncomfortable. Plus, it pisses me off when a fish steals my bait.”
After Diane had insisted on being taken to the museum instead of home, Frank insisted on an explanation of what happened to her. She fumbled through an account of her intention to use the code to catch the doll thief—and probably Joana Cipriano’s murderer.
“Tell me again, how was this plan supposed to work?” asked Frank as he drove toward the museum.
“I told you, I hadn’t thought it out enough to implement it. He struck too soon,” she said.
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