Dead Secret (16 page)

Susan was as disturbed by Alan’s behavior as Diane. “Do you think he’s flipped out?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Just keep an eye on Mother and Dad.”

“That’ll be hard. Alan is in and out so much. Gerald thinks Alan would like for Mother and Dad to take both of us out of their will.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” The idea chilled Diane. She knew her parents had a lot of money. For someone like Alan, money was a tremendous temptation. “That’s scary, but they would never disinherit us—you, anyway,” said Diane.

“I don’t think he would actually do anything to them. Do you?” asked Susan. “Threaten them in some way?”

“Probably not. But I’m glad though that you and Gerald live next door,” she said.

“Me too.”

Susan dropped Diane off at the curb, and she rushed to the ticket counter with just enough time to get her ticket, pass through security and catch her flight.

Chapter 26

No matter what was awaiting her at the museum, Diane was relieved to be home. She had taken the airport limo service from the Atlanta airport to Rosewood and a taxi to her apartment, arriving there before ten A.M. When she walked in the door, she felt like kissing the floor. Instead, she took a quick shower, got dressed and called Kendel.

“I’m in Rosewood. David called me about the break-in. Is anything missing from the museum?”

“Good to have you back,” said Kendel. “No, the museum proper is just fine. I had security double-check everything here, and nothing seems to have been taken.”

“I’ll be in shortly and you can brief me on anything I need to know.”

Diane hung up, then called David and told him she was coming in. He told her that Chief Garnett and the head of security for the crime lab were coming over to meet with him.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

After David, she dialed Frank’s cell phone and was relieved when he answered immediately. She really wanted to hear his voice. “Hey, babe. You back?”

“Yes. And I’m so glad to be here.”

“How were things in Alabama?”

“Interesting.”

“That sounds like that Chinese curse—‘May you live in interesting times.’ ”

“It was something like that. Mother’s home and safe. You had a lot to do with her release, and I wanted to thank you. I’ll fill you in on the details later.”

“I didn’t do anything but look up a few things, but I’ll accept your gratitude,” he said. Diane smiled into the phone.

“Guess you heard about the break-in while I was gone. Looks like it’s going to be a busy day. Maybe we can get together for something restful.”

“I think I can come by tonight. Not doing anything urgent right now. How’s your arm?”

Diane flexed her arm. “It’s healing. Not quite as sore. You, Star and Neva get along?”

“We had a good time. Neva and Star played Monopoly and watched DVDs. Can you believe it? Mike’s leaving the hospital today, and Neva’s going to stay with him. There’s been no news on who trashed her place.”

When Diane hung up the phone she had the sudden feeling she was late for something. It had been just three days, but it felt as though she’d been gone a month, and there were going to be too many things for her to catch up on. She headed out the door. In the hallway she met Mrs. Odell. The woman must have video surveillance, thought Diane.

Veda Odell was a pencil-thin woman with a long, dour face. The color of her hair and eyes matched and were sort of a gray-brown, almost the color one got when mixing all the colors together. Her skin was milky white and paper thin, showing blue veins. The Odells were a retired couple who had a love of funerals and an allergy to cats.

“That boy David Goldstein came to see us. He said he works for you. He’s a nice boy. Very interested in our opinion of the Egan rites. Not many young people care about funerals these days.”

“No, I don’t imagine they do.”

“He asked us what we thought of the funeral.”

“I told him that you and your husband are experts,” said Diane.

Mrs. Odell had a smile as thin as her body, but satisfaction shined in her gray-brown eyes. “Marvin and I gave him quite an education, I can tell you. Told him what a proper funeral should be like. Showed him our collections. Not many people get to see them.”

Collections of what?
Diane wondered, but knew better than to ask. David ought to have an unusual report.

“Thank you for giving your expert opinion. It should be a great help in our investigation.”

Diane made her escape down the stairs and out to her car. As she drove to the museum, she couldn’t get the Odells out of her mind.
Collections of what?

The beautiful Gothic nineteenth-century three-story granite structure that was the RiverTrail Museum of Natural History came into view as she turned off the street onto its main drive. The sight made her smile every time she saw it. She hoped it was the same for everyone who visited it. The parking lot was full, including several tour buses—another sight she quite enjoyed.

Diane went to her museum office first to make a call she dreaded.

“Good to have you back, Dr. Fallon,” said Andie. “The place is exciting, as usual. David has Detective Garnett—I think that’s his name—at the crime lab.” Andie’s usual excited demeanor was ratcheted up a notch.

“Thank you, Andie. I’m going over there in a minute, but I need to make a call first. Do you have the file on the Moonhater witch bones?”

“Sure. I guess you hate telling the guy his bones were stolen.” Andie handed her the file.

“More than you know.”

Diane looked at her watch and figured out the time difference. He should be there and awake, she thought. She dialed John Rose’s museum number.

“Mr. Rose, this is Diane Fallon.”

“Dear Dr. Fallon. I’m so glad we have been able to connect. I’ve been out of town, and I understand that you have too.”

“Yes, I have. Mr. Rose, I am so sorry to have to tell you this, but someone broke in here and stole your bones the night before last. We are doing everything we can to recover them. I can’t tell you how sorry—”

“No, dear lady, it is you who are owed an apology. And I sincerely do apologize.”

Diane was taken aback.
Had he come to get them?
she wondered. No, of course not. He wouldn’t have broken in—and stolen other things too.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“The bones are safe. I wanted to tell you before they arrived that the bones I sent were those of a roe. I suspected something like this would happen. I heard Charlotte Hawkins was traveling to the United States, and I just knew she would try to steal my bones, or that Dean Denning would. He is the owner of Moonhater Cave.”

Diane was speechless. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry. “Well, Mr. Rose, I don’t quite know what to say.”

“I can well imagine. And I am very sorry to have played such a trick on you. I well intended to talk to you sooner, but I had to be out unexpectedly. I do want you to look at the genuine bones, please. Sir Gregory says you are the best. The real ones will be arriving at your door within the week by special courier.”

“All right. At least I now have some possible suspects. We had some other things taken as well.”

“Oh, dear. I’ve let you in for a spot of trouble indeed, haven’t I? Please forgive me.”

“That’s all right. I’m just glad they aren’t missing. I’ll let you know when your bones arrive.” Diane paused a moment. “Did I hear you say Sir Gregory?”

“Yes. He was knighted just last week.”

“He didn’t tell me, but he was never one to talk about his own achievements.” Nevertheless, Diane felt a little hurt that he didn’t share his news with her.

“That’s him. Very nice fellow. Wonderful family.”

Diane cradled the phone and sat a moment, shaking her head. At least she should be grateful that the witch bones had not been stolen. She pulled a card with Charlotte Hawkins’s local address on it out of her desk drawer and slipped it into her pocket.

“Andie, I’ll be in the crime lab. Call me if you need me.”

“Will do,” said Andie as Diane went out the door.

The crime lab was on the third floor of the west wing of the building. The room was a warren of glassed-in workspaces outfitted with all the modern forensic equipment for various kinds of microscopic analysis, gas chromatography, spectral analysis, electrostatic detection and computer analysis. The computers held national and international databases for fingerprint and DNA identification, as well as databases for fibers, shoe prints, bullet casings, tire treads, paint, hair, cigarette butts and several others that David had added. In addition, the computers had software that matched, categorized, imaged, mapped and correlated all manner of data. The lab also had bug-rearing chambers. The crime lab was a separate entity from the museum, though Diane often consulted with the museum when she needed an expert on such things as pollen analysis, soil analysis or animal identification.

David, Chief Garnett and Lane Emery, head of security for the crime lab, sat at the round metal table in a corner of the lab.

“I was beginning to wonder where you were,” said Garnett, looking at his watch. He slid his hand over his salt-and-pepper hair.

Diane ignored Garnett’s cross tone. She was rather cross herself. “Tell me what happened,” she asked Emery.

The head of crime lab security looked to Garnett as if for permission. Diane hadn’t hired him—the Rosewood police had—and he looked to Garnett as his boss. Diane didn’t like that, but so far it hadn’t been a battle she wanted to fight. She suspected that that would now change.

“Mr. Emery, tell me what happened,” Diane repeated in a firmer tone.

“Oh, sure. At three sixteen A.M., someone bypassed the security system and broke into the crime lab. They hit Lee Carey, the night receptionist, with a stun gun and chloroformed him. Did the same with one guard, Joe Rich, and stole two microscopes, along with a box of evidence—I’m not sure what was in it.” He looked at David.

“The box contained railroad spikes, the Moon Pie wrappers, the rope and the Mickey Mouse flashlight from the cave. Korey had the clothes, and Jin had the rest of Caver Doe’s stuff locked up in his station. All our other evidence was either in the vault or in the police evidence room downtown.”

“That’s a blessing,” said Diane. “Where were the security guards?”

“Brady was in the elevator-side lobby of the crime lab,” said Emery. “He never saw a thing.”

When the crime lab was put in the west wing on the third floor of the museum, Diane had had an outside elevator and reception room built so the lab could have a separate entrance. In the daytime there was always a guard and a receptionist. The night receptionist stayed in a small glass-walled office on the museum side of the crime lab. The separate entrance had one guard.

“So you think the thief came in through the museum side?”

“Definitely. Joe Rich and Lee Carey were the only people they attacked. Brady never heard or saw a thing.”

“What about the video cameras?” asked Diane.

Emery looked chagrined. “They managed to disable those too—the museum cameras and the crime lab surveillance. Whoever did it bypassed the security system control box in the basement and used a computer to decode the lock on the bone lab. Someone had to know what they were doing. It’s a state-of-the-art system. This has the markings of a professional job.” He said the last statement as if it were a defense—a reason why security was breached.

“Interesting,” said Diane. “I just got off the phone with the director of the museum in Britain who owns the bones that were stolen. He told me that he expected an attempt to be made to steal them. He gave me the name of the person he suspects, and as it turns out she visited the museum last week with a friend. She’s a middle-aged Druid.”

Emery looked startled, as if someone had just shocked
him
with a stun gun. “A what?” he said.

“A Druid. It’s a pagan religion, I think. She didn’t strike me as a professional burglar.” Diane had her forearms on the table. She clasped her fingers together and waited for a reaction.

Emery was an ex-marine. He was fit and sported a short haircut. Right now he stared at Diane, dumbfounded.

“Do you have a name for this woman?” asked Garnett.

“Charlotte Hawkins.” She looked at David. “I assume you processed the labs and the basement.”

David nodded.

“I have a sample of her DNA. I took it to verify that the witch bones were from her ancestor.” Diane turned to David. “Did you find anything we can use?” she asked.

“We found glove prints and some blue wool fibers in the basement. The inside of the keypad on your osteology lab door had powder residue used in medical gloves. We traced the brand of glove to a supplier in Atlanta. That’s about it. They didn’t leave a whole lot to work with, and so far, nothing that we can use for a DNA comparison.”

The osteology lab, Diane’s bone lab, was technically part of the museum, though it was located adjacent to the crime lab and used the crime lab’s security. She was thinking about changing that arrangement.

“Why didn’t the receptionist see them coming down the hallway and raise the alarm?” Diane asked. “There’s no way he could have missed someone breaking into the lab from the museum side.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Emery. He hesitated a moment. Emery still seemed rattled with all the talk of witches. Probably the idea that a middle-aged Druid got by his security system didn’t sit too well with him either. “But the guard said he was coming back from the bathroom and they jumped him from behind. He said he never knew what hit him. I’m thinking they hid in the museum until it closed. That’s how they got in. Easier than trying to get access to the lab from outside.”

“They jumped him.” She turned to David. “Did you . . .”

“We processed his clothes. No transfer,” he said, shaking his head.

“We are still looking at him,” said Garnett.

“I would expect so,” said Diane. “I’m suspicious when burglars get a lucky break, like him being in the bathroom.”

“Why was the Druid lady—Charlotte Hawkins—here in the museum, and why did your British guy expect the bones to be stolen?” asked Garnett.

“Two factions are laying claim to the set of bones that has been on display in his museum—a woman who says she is a descendant, and the owner of the cave where the bones were originally found. The cave owner is suing for custody of the bones. The woman has made threats. She came here with a Wiccan friend from the United States to ask me to turn the bones over to her. I talked her into giving me a swab so I could check her DNA against the bones to verify whether she truly is a descendant.”

Garnett shook his head as though trying to clear water out of an ear. “That’s strange. Did she want them badly enough to hire professionals?”

“I don’t know. Would professionals risk breaking into a crime lab?” asked Diane.

“I’ve known people who’ll go anywhere for enough money,” said Emery.

“Do you know where this Charlotte Hawkins is staying?” asked Garnett.